It seems that we’ve completely left the asphalt jungle, the exasperated production machine and the apathy of Milan behind us. Instead, we’re just a few steps away from the North-West suburbs of the city, outside the Parco di Trenno. The usual conformation of a city vacillates: suddenly, we can look at the mountains and walk across corn fields. And only a few kilometres South, in the Parco delle Cave, it’s possible to sit on the edge of a lake and enjoy the sunset.
Paradoxically the eye of the photographer doesn’t limit itself to simply documenting the landscape. Without ever leaving the city borders, it explores the fundamental point of view of those living in Milan who have got used to excluding nature from their visual field. You often get a feeling of being a prisoner of the city. What’s the origin of this? Does it depend on one’s behavioural patterns or mental habits? Or is it Milan’s social and architectural reality that imposes an eye-enslaving monotony?
One thing is for sure: Milan often appears to those who live in it as an invisible city. That’s why the photographer’s task is that of finding out what lies beneath the surface of things, looking beyond the foggy banks enveloping not only lesser-known truths, but also people’s glances.
