Dei fiori non si capisce mai che cosa resta quando li hai raccolti
Dei fiori non si capisce mai che cosa resta quando li hai raccolti is a visual and written diary that begins with the places of my childhood, particularly the family home in Altipiani di Arcinazzo, a silent witness to the succession of three generations, each leaving their own marks in different ways.
The house thus becomes a testament to the individuals who have inhabited and lived within those spaces and to the events of which it has been the stage.
In the diary, as in the house, different temporal dimensions coexist and layer, narrated by multiple voices that have employed various languages and mediums of memory.
Archival photos and old Super 8 films juxtaposed with more recent photographs come back to life and acquire new meanings, just as my own shots, through this coexistence, acquire a past becoming substantially enriched.
The work also includes texts and small streams of consciousness written by my brother and me: our recollections are often influenced, determined, or simply accompanied by the remembering/narrating of someone else who has experienced the same events.
Therefore, different perspectives coexist in the diary, as if it were a grand tale composed of many small stories.
All these custodians of time - places, people, objects, photographs, writings, etc. - do not hand down a unique and solid memory, but rather memories that change like light, which, when it falls on things in different ways, determines their ever new appearance.
*The project's title is a quote from the lyrics of Veronica,n.2 by Baustelle.
*The project was created while attending the IED Photography course.