I question the very nature of photography and of the image in general. All these leftovers, which are also photographs, also unique objects, are the ultimate witnesses to a creative process — mine — that places experimentation, trial, and error at its core, forming the basis of what I call Intuitive Printing, two words that shouldn’t belong together because photography, the technical art par excellence, is hardly intuitive.

And yet all these remnants, archaeological traces of the process and of the time spent over each print, speak. They have a role to play within the organic whole of the work. As if every fragment whispered a word or letter, and together with the other letters-fragments, assembled into a sentence written in visual language. As if, once cut, assembled, sometimes mixed, these fragments acquire new meanings, layering upon one another to form a lexicon.

Like a seamstress, I cut identical squares, formal and rigid, as in an alphabet rhythm matters, and I let my mind wander. My hands assemble the pieces, and at first, nothing makes sense — but gradually sentences emerge. The starry sky on the night my daughter was born converses with a letter I wrote to my late father, waves from a century-old sea speak with dried leaves I’ve kept for years, all evoking the natural cycles of life and death.

Then come the cropped edges of prints, abstract brushstrokes of photosensitive emulsion, and the countless attempts at tricolor cyanotype prints, a complex and intangible technique that introduces time — the material time of the print — as a recurring theme in my work.

It is by giving value to the moments of my research — both those that produced tangible, measurable results, framed in galleries or collectors’ salons, and those left in drawers — by giving them visual, semantic, and material dignity, that I attempt to give form and substance to the invisible, to time, to words thrown to the waves, to the layers that accumulate beneath the surface, creating the complexity of life.

Cyan #1 (2025). Cianotipie virate su carta, collage su carta Fabriano Rosaspina 220g. 65x100cm. Tiratura unica 1/1. Collezione privata (Torino).

Cyan #4 (2025). Cianotipie virate su carta, collage su carta Fabriano Rosaspina 220g. 50x70cm. Tiratura unica 1/1.