(July 8, 2018, 2018 / Digital Art: Jorge Ibanez)
I developed the digital design series Postcards from the Darklands in 2016 for a poem book of the same title by Gainesville poet Jimmy Fishshawk. It consisted of ten digitally altered versions of photos I took in my travels through France and Italy. We aimed to reference (not reproduce or imitate) vintage postcards from back when friends sent short notices to loved ones trying to invite them into their experience by pulling them for a moment inside a glimpse of their surroundings. We printed the series in a 30” X 20” format to hang at the book presentation at the Gainesville Civic Media Center.
Of the series and book title, Fishhawk wrote:
“The Darklands are the spectre-haunted capitals of Old Europe as viewed through reverse images, photo negatives lost down sewer grates by spooked tourists, shadows inverted behind the eyelids of the people who still abide down cobblestone streets their ancestors’ feet wore smooth. The Darklands may be caught in infrared glimpses framed by ancient shade trees. They glimmer just below the surface of sunset rivers older than time. The Darklands divulge purged and buried narratives from behind the shrapnel-flecked façade of Official History and Big Men’s Wars.”
Alley Nights in Radicondoli
Alley Night is based on a photo of the alley behind Radicondoli’s pizza joint, La Pergola, way up on the Mountains of Tuscany. Every evening after having explored farms and towns perched like walled crowns at the top of so many hills and mountains, we would drive a couple of curves up the road from our bread and breakfast location by the side of the road to Radicondoli for a down-to-earth pizza and some cheap wine (even the cheap wine was amazing!) and comment our day’s exploration. After a while the wine would do its job, time to walk back down the darkened ally framed with roses in bloom to our car and the drive a couple of curves down the road to the Il Bal Canto to rest and be ready for another breakfast on the terrace and head back out to another beautiful little town.
Croque Madame Sandwich
We arrived in Paris early one morning in late September. The couple with whom we were planning to explore the city had arrived the day before and received us in the front courtyard of the apartment building we had rented on the left bank, close to the Seine near the Ile de la Cité and the beautiful Notre Dame cathedral. We did not wait to unpack to head out for our first French breakfast.
My traveling friend, having been to Paris before, recommended the Croque Madame . Looking at the menu I discovered there was also a Croque Monsieur. I asked the waiter what was the difference. He responded with feigned impatience and a sly smile “Ma, monsieur, le Croque Madame has ze egg on top!”
Notre Dame
From the apartment we rented in the Left Bank, you only have to walk a short, narrow perpendicular street, turn right, up a short stair and you find yourself at the Quai de Montebello, the book vendors by the Seine and, across the waters, the majestic cathedral Notre Dame de Paris. Several times we crossed over just to wander around the iconic architecture to marvel at the details and agree the grand dame’s behind is as beautiful as its famous face.
Notre Dame is based on one of my photos of Notre Dame’s gargoyles.
Ponte Vechio
The first time I heard of Florence’s Ponte Vechio, many years before actually coming face to face with it, the whole notion reminded me of Gibson’s Virtual Light: humanity finding its way, not only living now but actually doing commerce on a working bridge. Later I found out that, ironically, Gibson’s view of a dystopian future was once common.
The Florentine’s are rightfully proud of their Ponte Vechio and have in the past rebuilt it bringing it back to life after World War II and after the 1966 Florence flood. At the moment it is a beautiful thing to see from outside painted in lively colors. Once you enter, you practically lose sense that you are in the bridge at all, surrounded by beautiful store fronts along a wide pedestrian street.
Ponte Vechio is based on one of my photos taken from the north bank of the Arno, looking west.
Tuscany Farm by the RR tracks
Riding the train from Rome up to Turin, you cross Tuscany’s flat farm-lands. From your train window you can periodically see Tuscany’s traditional stone walled and clay tiles roofed farm houses, sometimes in the distance, sometimes actually pretty close to the train tracks. Many look like working farms in good working conditions, but some have obviously been abandoned, with caved in roofs and/or crumbling walls. As I saw those sliding in the distance, they made me think ‘what about the families that used to breathe there, what about the kids that grew there, are they still in this world (how long has that farm been abandoned?), do they still fondly recall when they meet for the holidays in Milan or Rome their games in the fields or their adolescent ennui in their second floor bedrooms?’
Tuscany Farm is based on photos I took from the train coming back from Rome to Turin.
Shack by the Road, Tuscany
Tuscany Shack is product of a happy accident. When we headed out from Florence to our bed and breakfast up in the mountains near Radicondoli, Il Bel Canto, our Italian guide at the wheel confessed to us that she had not driven a standard transmission car for some time and much less on steep inclined tight curves like the ones we dove in with gusto. That and her copilot’s malfunctioning GPS, which had to be held up in a specific position or the power cord would lose contact and start re-booting from scratch, made for a hilarious ride with them engaging in shouting matches where the copilot tried in her own way to calm down the driver and the driver cursing in Italian something that had to do with ‘puta’ and ‘merda’ that I was not able to make out but she kept repeating like a mantra. But those two words I knew what they meant.
I was riding in the back seat with my camera on my lap and, in a tight curve where our heroic driver had to reduce speed more than usual, out of boredom I just pointed the camera out the window and shot. I was surprised when I saw what I had captured.
House Barges on the Seine
One of Paris’ most curious sights for the tourist has to be the iconic luxury Péniches tied off two deep along different segments of the Seine. These pleasure boats follow the basic requirements of the barges that were redesigned to fit the standardized canals and Seine river canalization after 1880. They were called Péniches. But the ones tied to the banks of the Seine have only the basic shape in common with the utilitarian cargo barges and you can see from above from a bridge how they vary from nice beautiful living spaces to outright luxury. Many even have gardens
And did you know you can actually rent some of them short term for a romantic visit to Paris
If I remember correctly, I shot House Barges from the De Gaulle bridge, but don’t quote me on that
Boats Pond, Monet Garden, Giverny
Many, many years ago I met a gorgeously beautiful girl in school. Both of us adoring admirers of the Impressionists, we discovered we were both avowed Francophiles and she shared with me that she planned to go to France, something I could not do at the time. I convinced her somehow that if she postponed her trip to France and instead we hitched our futures together, one day we would go to France together and tell each other silly things by the banks of the Siene.
Well, it took 40 years before we were able to keep our mutual promise and, still Impressionists proselytists, we simply could not visit France without paying a visit to the temple of the greatest of them all, Monet’s gardens in Giverny, a small quaint village in the region of Normandy in northern France. Our Mecca.
There we found this beautiful pond, with two beached row boats and light filtering through the tree canopy in a myriad of hues. An epiphany.
