I don’t know about other people’s cameras. Mine is a thing I had cobbled up, it holds together with tape and is always losing parts. All I need to set is the distance and that other thing – what do you call that other thing? I’m not a fan of mechanics. I have had this camera, still the same one, since I started taking photos. It has lived with me, shared many moments of my existence, both good and bad. If I ever lost it… well, the very idea of having to live without it pulls at my heart. […]
(What kind of painting did you do?) I started with earth, which I mixed with other materials, such as leaves, I’m not even sure I should call it painting. After that I tried canvas and real colours. Then I destroyed everything. Later on I wrote poetry, which I also destroyed. Finally I discovered photography and realized that it allowed me to produce something more powerful. Of course it cannot create, nor express all we want to express. But it can be a witness of our passage on earth, like a notebook. […]
To be sure the landscape can’t run away, and yet I always fear that it may…I must set up my tripod, so I worry that the landscape may disappear the next second and I don’t stop keeping an eye on it while I get prepared. Then, when pressing the shutter, I hold my breath. These moments are the greatest joys in my life, as if I were undressing the most beautiful woman in the world – that is, if she will allow herself be undressed. If the photo is a success, it means that she was willing. If not, it has been a lovely dream. […]
A photo isn’t only what you see, but also what your imagination adds to it. My own imagination may add something else, a third person’s something else again. But does it matter? What matters is the contact between us, the fact that we talk about trees losing their leaves, about objects we crush underfoot without realizing it, about that house dying gently, abandoned by its owner, even though it’s the house where he was born, where he learnt to cry and to laugh.
– Mario Giacomelli, (1925-2000)
Don’t miss the entire fascinating interview by Frank Horvat @ Horvatland.com
Photo: Mario Giacomelli, maestro crudo (via lacarosella). Quotes: Thank you Beth @ Alive on All Channels
A photographer with a poet’s way with words. I would have liked to see experience his poetry as well as his photography.
So agree Russ.
“A lovely dream…” The success at creating something that makes us talk…that is what matters. For those creatives, for us…yes, the contact, the talking.
You, Raye, have a special way with words. Full stop.
“Mine is a thing I had cobbled up”….language is such a lovely thing..along with his story…
Yes, he has a beautiful way with words…
Fascinated me. How he expresses his photography… there is a great soul all behind these things… Thank you dear David, it was my first reading piece for this morning. How nice to start with this to my day. Love, nia
Agree Nia. This interview and his work, how words and art—- amazing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26g0IcyKxjY
Thank you again, I also shared your post on my page too today, dear David. I hope you don’t mind. Love, nia
Of course not Nia. Enjoy!
yes, it’s all seen through you own personal lens of experience –
Yes…
Photography…it’s never been about the technology.
And certainly not for him…
Just printed the whole interview to read on the way to work. Last night I read the first paragraph about his Mother, and couldn’t go further.
I can see that. I understand.
This guy gets it. The tools that become dance partners, the rifling through all manner of media until the Beloved is found, the success and the lovely dream being equally of value. Thanks for this.
“What matters is the contact between us, the fact that we talk about trees losing their leaves, about objects we crush underfoot without realizing it, about that house dying gently, abandoned by its owner, even though it’s the house where he was born, where he learnt to cry and to laugh.”
Wow. Gifted.
Wow is right!