A photographic investigator always seeks inner guidance, especially when they are experiencing dissatisfaction from an imposed situation (or what seems to be an outwardly imposed situation -which it never is…). Hexagram 55 came up: Feng=Abundance. “Feng is the zenith of abundance, where something is so full that it overflows. In the image of your overflowing inner reserves, you are not made empty even while you give; this is the way of a kingdom of abundance. The master said: “When the sun stands at midday, it begins to set: be not sad. The fullness and emptiness of life wax and wane in the course of time.”“That which attains the place in which it belongs is sure to become great. Therefore follows the idea of abundance.”
"You saw me crying in the chapel, the tears I shed were tears of joy..." sung Elvis and one could easily cry of joy in the Vatican Chapels because they were so beautiful. Of course my subject weren't the chapels themselves but the one who found refuge in them. I had a photographic investigation to do but I also had a soft spot for beautiful people blending with beautiful architecture. My subject was pursued not by me, but from a group of mysterious, very handsome men with impeccable white shirts who invaded one day the vaporetto to San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice. There was something mesmerising in their elegance and style but also something vaguely dark. All I had to do to find my subject was to follow them and I knew right there and then that this would be yet another one of my investigations that it's course had already changed in my mind...
I was hired to photographically investigate another strange Venice creature, another dangerous subject. Her name was Medusa, she also belonged to the infamous secret circle of Il Mister (although not so secret anymore after my numerous investigations and revelations) and, what a surprise, I wasn't told (again) why she was dangerous or why she went by that name. Well, Medusa had the ability to turn men into stone with her gaze -if that as the clue that i was supposed to figure out- but I wasn't a man. And even if I were, well, it would be an interesting turn of events, to end up as a stone statue in one of the most beautiful courts of Venice. She looked at me. I don't think I turned into stone. But then again...
There is only one garden in San Giorgio Maggiore, in Venice. And there is no secret under the sun... But that day the sun was shining too brightly and the garden was hidden to those who cannot stand the bright light. So, in a way, it became secret...
Firefly was an amazing sci fi western series that had a short life. That, along with the fact that it was just brilliant made it a cult and a must see for every serious sci fi lover. If Firefly hadn't been untimely cancelled (after only one season), I am sure that Serenity (this is how the ship was called) would have -somehow- visited a planet called Venice. She was called "La Serenissima" after all and a photographic investigator knows only too well that there are not coincidences...
It was a bad 1984 french film with Valérie Kaprisky. But then, everything that reminds us of our youth is seen through a "summer of innocence" filter, as I call it, that feels like the seventies summer films yellow hue looks like... The past is reinvented every time we recall it, and this was one of these times. It was summer in Venice and I was investigating this delicate and sweet young artist, an ethereal presence that decided to take off her shoes and move playfully... And then I saw them. The medusas. It was the first time they were seen in Venice and everyone thought it was a good omen. The incident had a french Riviera feel to it, just like this old movie. I thought it was a good omen as well.
One of the most essential reasons mystery people -the people I investigate- prefer Venice for their activity is that Venetians never use gondolas. They are reserved for the dreadful tourists. So the people in question use them widely. Who wants to look at a tourist in Venice? Hiding in plain site has always been their game.
It was a beautiful, cold morning in Venice, full of promise. Another thing that stuck to mind was an overpriced coffee in Rialto, but sometimes, crisp, promising mornings in Venice make you want to use the bathroom desperately...
This was his code name and I was supposed to photographically investigate him while passing by the infamous Bridge of Sighs in Venice. Ironically, the real Casanova had actually crossed that bridge. But then, Casanova was one of the very few that had managed to escape from the prisons of Venice... That should have made me a bit more careful and alert, but it didn't. So I ended up mesmerised by what was supposed to be the last sight the future prisoners had of the sky and the outside world -and what a world that was!- and my inner ear fell wide open to their sighs and their thoughts. "Ponte dei Sospiri" was the name given to it by Lord Byron, who, like me, was using Venice to escape from uncomfortable realities... There are no coincidences, I knew that, that's why, deep inside, I knew that my Casanova -like the real one- had already escaped, not because he fantasised or dreamed about it, but because it was the only thing to to.
Mirrors are not always welcome but they are always there, in front of us. Photographically investigating what mirrors can do... Is it the same thing as meditating on the human experience?
The good thing about the states of mind (there are many bad ones as well, but I am not focusing on them) is that you can be in them whenever you want -which in the venetian state of mind case is constantly. A photographic investigator also knows that being constantly in a state of mind transports you physically to the place that this state of mind is connected with. Travel or relocation is a lot easier and faster this way.
In between photographic investigations, random shots of Venice. Sunday mornings I always visualise of moving there... And I always wanted to make a post with the word "untitled" in the title!
A photographic investigation in a parallel italian island-universe where every day is laundry day... everywhere. I was there to investigate laundries, obviously. Many of them go undetected by the untrained tourist eye... but they are lurking in the most unusual places as well as in the most obvious. An interesting quiz would be: "Try NOT to find the laundry".
It was the day when 6 of my most mysterious and dangerous subjects, Il Mister, The Fox, The Muse, El Guapo, Eleonora Krane and Jackie'O Can had a secret meeting in Venice. A new, seventh member would be introduced to their circle. All I had to investigate was when and where the meeting would take place. My intuition didn't fail me… As I was walking around, I found myself looking at a house. A gondolier's mother obviously had just finished her laundry, I thought, because 7 gondolier's shirts were hanging by the rope… I knew I was in the right place the right time.
Sometimes a Photographic Investigator finds herself in between assignments and they wander around observing. Everything is really amazing when you are silently observing it. Unfortunately, old habits die hard, so I ended up investigating two people… Luckily, it happened in Burano, so I did it in colour. So, one thing was out of the ordinary.
Her job was to inspire strong and photographically very dangerous men. She was the Muse. In many ways, investigating only her would be like investigating at least five of my most challenging cases. I did it for myself. Sometimes a photographic investigator must go one step beyond to make her life easier. So I befriended her and did my usual thing… She was very cool and relaxed and although everything was going well, there was something alarming in her behaviour. She was too friendly. She was talking constantly on the phone saying the word "Ammmooore" and pronouncing it in this particular way. I thought she was inspiring someone. One of my subjects. But still, I could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. I went to my hotel room and called one of my collections to check it out. I found out that Amore was a code name for a major investigative operation with the objective to locate all the wandering photographic investigators -like me- and put a constant watch over them. The headquarters were in Monaco. And it seemed that the Muse was the Boss. I found this information very intriguing. We were getting along very well. Perhaps I could offer her my services. But I had the feeling that the Muse was herself one step beyond me. Well… All I knew was that "Ammmmoore" sounded very cool.
Photographically investigating fellow investigators is not easy. But it's something every photographic investigator must do, sooner or later… I have discovered, after many trials and fails, that the method that works best for me is to make them think they are investigating… me. And in the meantime, it's a great opportunity to investigate a more about myself. A little more self investigation can never come too late and can never be too much.
Last impressions from the Venice Biennale now that it's over… Surprisingly, the people are still the predominant feature. They are art. And there comes the question: doe's art exist without people? A long debate… I just took some shots.
