un, due, tre.... (red light, green light)

UN, DUE, TRE…(red light, green light) is a project that "re-views" images, producing new ones by altering those that already fill the world—a reflection on what happens to our memory when it is entrusted to photographs.

UN, DUE, TRE… (Red Light, Green Light)

This project is a three-part reflection on memories, their preservation, and the latent possibilities hidden within photographs. Photographic images can both capture reality as it is and leave it free to expose itself for what it wishes or could be. We produce endless images without realizing how much they can atrophy the imagination, and without considering how every viewer charges these visuals with meaning—transforming what they see into alternative versions of the original subjects.

The three acts—GIOCO INFINITO (infinite game), UNA FOTO PUÒ BASTARE (one photo is enough), and ANGELO—are the three stages of a single cohesive project.

Here, "play" is a universal escape, a language understood by all. It serves as the catalyst for a discourse on the photographic medium: the act of capturing, preserving, finding, and modifying. The photographic image freezes reality and, precisely because it has been transformed into an image, allows it to manifest hypothetical alternative scenarios through interventions, manipulations, and playful supports.

The work relies almost exclusively on an analog approach. The search for images is a treasure hunt where events unfold inexplicably; photos appear and reveal what I never chose to look at or immortalize. The manipulation of images (hand-coloring, darkroom re-printing, etc.) is the action that makes visible what remains hidden: the eye of the beholder. The result is both an exposure of possibilities and a new, previously non-existent image.

UN, DUE, TRE… is a project that "re-views" images, producing new ones by altering those that already fill the world—a reflection on what happens to our memory when it is entrusted to photographs.

GIOCO INFINITO (infinite game)

In memory, things can overlap; shapes can blend. A "Toys Center Christmas 2025" catalog found by chance—a chaotic and fantastic bestiary of childhood memories, complete with prices and descriptions. But the sight of those colorful toys makes the imagination restless. Can I still play with them all, without buying them? I wanted their silhouettes to merge; I wanted desirable hybrids, a collection of semi-indecipherable, monstrous prodigies for children: a scientific plate that a contemporary Ulisse Aldrovandi would want in his living room. A colorful product of the imagination that acts as both a blurred memory and an infinite game, as well as an X-ray scan of old memories and new ones in the making. One plays with what one has. Here, it is done with images of toys you will never buy. The sequence of small icons deforms, hides, and amalgamates, overlapping words until they become almost illegible ornaments. Perhaps this is exactly how memories would appear if they had the chance?

91.5x48 cm | 6 contact prints on RC (resin-coated) photographic paper from 20 pages of a "Toys Center Christmas 2025" catalog, dip-dyed in an aniline and water solution.

UNA FOTO PUÒ BASTARE (one photo is enough)

The image, depicting two girls in costume in the 1960s, is part of a photo album found in a trash can in Milan. The scan of the original shot was printed six times on uncoated paper and colored with oil pastels before being re-digitized. The cars, buildings, skin, and clothes mutate—a formal work that alters and transforms memory. Nothing is false in the reality these re-printed and re-colored photos show. The reality captured by the lens degrades into potential hidden alternative worlds. What if all that is possible were already present in every single shot? Images are saturated with the imagination of those who take and manipulate them.

130x195 cm | Oil pastel on uncoated paper, 6 blueback paper prints of the scans.

ANGELO

In a flea market, I found five class photos: an arrow or a circle indicates the same boy in each of them. From the back of the photos, I discovered his name was Angelo. Someone wanted to highlight his face; that memory has been forgotten, and no trace remains of the person who was looking for him. The photos are no longer in my possession; they were stolen along with my backpack. 3 group photographs and 3 enlargements of Angelo's face: did the person who pointed him out also want to look at him up close?

The images are short-lived apparitions. These are unfixed silver gelatin prints. Only the marks (already present on the photos at the time of purchase) that circle and indicate the boy’s face have been treated with chemical fixer. This is the only part that will remain clearly visible; everything else is subject to oxidation, destined to fade and spoil. Fixer residues will create yellow-brown stains, and the human figures will become volumes devoid of recognizable features. Photographs cannot be trusted: if you forget them, they end up in a second-hand shop, then in my hands, or in those of a backpack thief. Those circles and arrows that do not disappear become artificial shapes that can indicate anything one wishes to place inside them. Angelo is no longer anyone: only the marks of his forgotten memory remain.

Photos: 24x30.5 cm | 6 partially fixed silver gelatin contact prints (6 images are uploaded, but the complete work consists of 10). The images will darken until they become almost entirely black within approximately 4 months (except for the fixed parts). See file: angelo_07.

Self-produced light-tight case-frames: Wood, aniline, metal, plastic, fabric, paper. These prevent the prints from coming into contact with light until their first exhibition.