In limine (At the door, in latin) is the title of a poem by Eugenio Montale, which reads as follows:
|Godi se il vento ch’entra nel pomario
vi rimena l’ondata della vita:
qui dove affonda un morto
viluppo di memorie,
orto non era, ma reliquario.
Il frullo che tu senti non è un volo,
ma il commuoversi dell’eterno grembo;
vedi che si trasforma questo lembo
di terra solitario in un crogiuolo.
|Un rovello è di qua dall’erto muro.
Se procedi t’imbatti tu forse
nel fantasma che ti salva:
si compongono qui le storie, gli atti
scancellati pel giuoco del futuro.
Cerca una maglia rotta nella rete
che ci stringe, tu balza fuori, fuggi!
Va, per te l’ho pregato, – ora la sete
mi sarà lieve, meno acre la ruggine…
The project explores in 40 shots, mostly taken in urban areas, the concept of “threshold“, “entrance“, “passage”, “openness” and does it in a no quiet way for the viewer. Behind the passage, over the barrier that separates two or more spaces, in fact there is never a quiet place, free from danger, but the unknown, the possible threat. Dark and unhealthy environments, dark doors and windows: they are tightly closed to hide what is behind you.
The threshold itself becomes a metaphor of urban existence: the city is depicted as the seat of all insecurity and fear. Despite this, the photographer’s eye can not (as Montale says in his poem) avoid the pursuit of a“ghost that saves you” or of a “hole in the wall” allowing an elsewhere of peace and calm.
The result is a document about loneliness that every modern man experiences in urban settings, where only concrete appears everywhere -not men. As written by Michel Houellebecq: “The cement denotes the violence with which it was mixed in the wall. Cement screams. Grass is grieving under animal teeth. And man, what about the man?”
Cameras used were both analogue and digital. Shots taken all around in Italy.
Status: closed (but doors are one of my favourite themes, anyway).
This project was featured on Scopio Magazine.