See also: Ivo Saglietti: his “nomadic view” at the Turin exhibition
It was your first trip to Italy in 1972 that motivated you
I first came to Italy in 1971 without a camera. Growing up, I always dreamed of going there, but my parents never took me there. Once I finally graduated, I left and came to Italy. I was amazed by what I saw. While the beauty of art and architecture, the people, and the beauty of the land itself. Something went off in my head, some visual explosion, a flash of light. This experience made me think about life differently and I decided to get a camera and start taking pictures. Then in 1972, I returned to Italy, this time with a camera.
What does photographic language represent for you?
I tell stories and use the language of photography to do so. The photo is an incredible universal language. It transcends all boundaries because it is not based on spoken or written language.
You grew up listening to your grandparents telling you about their life in Italy and their journey to America. Now she’s the one telling stories through pictures. What did you imbibe from your grandparents in the art of storytelling?
As one of five siblings in a very proud Italian-American family, I grew up hearing stories told by and about first-generation immigrants. I loved hearing stories about Italy and what life was like for my grandparents and their generation when they came to America. The stories were very visual, personal, loving, touching, and very perceptive. I try to incorporate all of this into my narrative.
The exhibition tells about his four trips to Italy. Especially since the trip in 1977, his photography has also become a spokesperson for Italian political reality. How has your narrative evolved over the years, both aesthetically and compositionally, and in terms of chosen themes?
A Journey Back:
During the six months I was in Italy in 1972, I began working in earnest as a documentary photographer. My idea was to see if I had the skills to make a living as a professional photographer. When I returned to the United States in early 1973, I began taking photography classes and expanded my work to photojournalism. I began photographing news events for newspapers and magazines in San Francisco and California. In this way, my photography became more involved in political and social events in California and the United States. So when I returned to Italy in 1977, I covered a wider range of topics than on my first trip.
I started photographing subjects like workers and unions, demonstrations, and social and everyday life in Italian. Italy in 1977, very hot socially and politically, reminded me of the United States of the 1960s when I was a young man in college: opposition to the Vietnam War, the birth of the counterculture, assassinations of leaders, and political and social. Aesthetically and compositionally, not many changes have occurred since 1972. I was a lot influenced by the great French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson: I always try to capture the defining moment in each situation, the second or less that captures the most dramatic moment in each situation.
The photographs from his travels in Italy have the value of emotional documents as a whole. The exhibition is based on pictures of Montezemolo in Piedmont, where his family home is, like a big family album…
I think it has that aspect because in Italy I tried to find my personal and family roots. I started by photographing my Italian relatives and wanted to more fully and comprehensively capture Italy and its people as my extended family. We could go a step further by saying that my documentation was an extension of the exhibition and the book Family of Man edited by Edward Steichen in 1955.
As I said before, what happened in Italy in the 1970s reminded me a lot of what happened and what I experienced in the United States in the 1960s. During the 1960s, Americans suffered the assassinations of John Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy, and Malcolm X, as well as the killing of four students at Kent State.
In Italy, however, there were murders of Giorgiana Masi AND Aldo Moro, which reminded me of a death I experienced ten years earlier. But my position in Italy was not participatory, I had no sense of belonging, and my view was simply that of an observer. However, given my Italian-American upbringing and my experiences in 1960s America, my observations and documentation of Italy in the 1970s came from a unique and very personal perspective that connected very deeply with the perspective of many Italians who saw the photographs.
The paintings on display alternate with numerous panels featuring poems by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Why? What does your photo have in common with the American poet of Italian descent?
I grew up hearing about Italy, but I never went there as a child, I only came after I grew up. That’s why I called my exhibition Way Back. As a child, I only experienced Italy in my mind. Lawrence Ferlinghetti had the same experience as me: his father was Italian, but he never knew him because he died when Lawrence was one year old. Like me, he was in touch with his Italian roots, but never came to Italy until he was an adult. He wrote many poems and prose about your country, its culture, politics, and people. We have both taken similar journeys and also similar experiences to realize the idea of undertaking this journey. I think that’s why my photo and his words match so well.
