I have a great appreaciation of the work of Paolo Ventura. Precisely for this reason I find myself in trouble when I try to describe his artistic work. I prefer, therefore, to introduce it with a piece of Italo Calvino from “Invisible Cities”. The words of Italo Calvino well introduce us to his utopian vision of reality. Dreams make fun of us, of our beliefs. Yet at the same time, I find the work of Paolo Ventura quite reassuring. Being Italian, and knowing that fog and that long winter skillfully reconstructed by Ventura, makes everything looks more familiar. The Venetian scenes that we find in the series “The Automation” are in this sense terrific. I think the magic of Ventura is right in his remarkable ability to recreate the emotions in which the viewer is left abandoned. Almost as if he could touch the hot spots, Paolo Ventura manages the difficult task of puncturing our memory, to shake a childish imaginary now buried.
«The Great Khan’s atlas contains also the maps of the promised lands visited in thought but not yet discovered or founded: New Atlantis, Utopia, the City of the Sun, Oceana, Tamoé, New Harmony, New Lanark, Icaria. Kublai asked Marco: “You, who go about exploring and who see signs, can tell me toward which of these futures the favoring winds are driving us.”
“For these ports I could not draw a route on the map or set a date for the landing. At times all I need is a brief glimpse, an opening in the midst of an incongruous landscape, a glint of light in the fog, the dialogue of two passersby meeting in the crowd, and I think that, setting out from there, I will put together, piece by piece, the perfect city, made of fragments mixed with the rest, of instants separated by intervals, of signals one sends out, not knowing who receives them. If I tell you that the city toward which my journey tends is discontinuous in space and time, now scattered, now more condensed, you must not believe the search for it can stop. Perhaps while we speak, it is rising, scattered, within the confines of your empire; you can hunt for it, but only in the way I have said.”
Already the Great Khan was leafing through his atlas, over the maps of the cities that menace in nightmares and maledictions: Enoch, Babylong, Yahooland, Butua, Brave New World.
He said: “It is all useless, if the last landing place can only be the infernal city, and it is there that, in ever-narrowing circles, the current is drawing us.”
And Polo said: “The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”»
Italo Calvino Invisible Cities, 1972
© All copyright remains with photographer Paolo Ventura