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date » 04-12-2025 08:42

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tags » night rain, rain, shoot atmosphere, mood rain, urban mood, olympus C 5050, autumn, falls,






RAIN
I'm interested in details during the rain,
the drops that remain hanging on the ends of pine needles,
not as on glass surfaces, that retain the drops

Erri De Luca

date » 28-11-2025 11:21

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tags » southern italy, market shop, river, message on bottle, tempus fugit,


© archive manunzio


A message in bottle, again

At that time, the valley meandered like the course of the river, and the only living creatures were the farmers who tended the vines, the vegetable gardens, and the fruit trees. The silence was one with the rays of the sun, the heat of the season, the chirping of cicadas and singing crickets. Today the valley, with the river harnessed by reinforced concrete embankments, is lined with supermarkets. And silence reigns supreme like a shroud of Death.




LIke a continuously black & white film: from photographs after put in side leather album, at bride's white dress and counterpart groom's black, to all around, simple dresses belonging to little girls.



U ritrattor' è arrivat'...
A wedding day of farmers, yes, but wealthy ones, on the outskirts of the capital city a town in southern Italy at the end of the 1960s. The sky is in a good mood with its warm rays and an atmosphere of euphoria and apprehension spreads at the same time, while around the bride's house, the center of the day, people come and go. And the “capera” (hairdresser, hair stylist ante litteram) is late in arriving, but here she is, breathless, entering the bride's house. The women, above all, breathe a sigh of relief, also at the sight of the person who will take care of the entire wedding lunch (the chef, or a man of many talents): yes, there are no reception halls yet, and everything is done within the family, in the farmhouse, under white tents where a few more chairs and tables can be set up, en plein air.
And we, city dwellers (a sort of never-ending antagonism between urbs and pagus) in suits and ties, are welcomed with the festive cry “E' arrivato u ritrattor' ” (the portraitist has arrived), the guttural dialect for the so-called ceremonial portraitist, photographer in the broad sense. There are three of us: the boss of the photo lab, whom the bride and groom had approached a few days earlier, ‘directed’ by the matchmaker friend, obviously, of the aforementioned boss, who in due course will receive his ‘share’ as thanks for bringing another customer to ‘fleece’.
ContinueThe boss, with his ample waistline and Clark Gable-style moustache, slick and sly, now chats with one and then another of the bystanders, the bride's parents, to whom he solemnly (!) presents the bridal bouquet specially made by the florist that morning, whose shop is right next to the photo studio. It is a custom of our studio.
The camera bag belonging to the boss, who will be responsible for taking the most important shots, contains the legendary Rollei f 2.8, accompanied by two other f.3.5 versions, which serve as backups. There are also two flashes with round reflectors, made by Braun in black with white buttons on the battery (carried on the shoulder) for switching on, mains recharging, and halving the light output. All this is filled with 120 Agfapan 100 film rolls in their elegant semi-gloss silver box. These rolls of film will then be developed by yours truly with great responsibility and finally passed on to the Durst 659, the turret enlarger for 135 Leica format lenses and 80 mm for the Rollei format seipersei: we are not yet talking about the Hasselblad format, which is the preserve of certain studios in Milan.
Everything goes smoothly and predictably as I hand the Rolleis to the boss, already reloaded with the standard twelve shots. Leaving the parish church, the tension for us ceremonialists dissipates as a volley of confetti rains down like a shower of good wishes on the bride and groom, who shield themselves with their hands from the arrival of the auspicious rice but above all from the mixed confetti, veritable stray bullets...
It is time for the toast under the white marquee erected on shiny poles, there in the well-kept corner of the farm; tables of unique whiteness with tablecloths, plates, and glasses. And wine to make Bacchus jealous. Hours pass amid applause, good wishes to the newlyweds, and meat to devour. Finally, the newlyweds go around a basket and throw confetti wrapped in scalloped handkerchiefs as good luck charms for the guests. And to quiet the many children in short pants, the two newlyweds throw confetti into the air, which falls to the ground and is eagerly gathered up by little hands


Ps. The album usually featured cm 18 x 24 black and white photos, with smaller copies given as gifts to those attending the event. It was only later, in the early 1970s, that the first 13 x 18 color images opened the album: the exchange of rings and the exit from the church.




To be honest that man (a shoot from book) soaking with fins and goggles is an other irony made Rodney. Now on the left, at the edge of the frame, a ‘house’ surrounded by trees. That's all? No, in fact, to compare it with the original painting so-called Isle of the Dead by swiss painter Arnold Böcklin: finesse d'esprit by Rodney Wasp ideology?



Side Two
I already wrote how everything, absolutely everything, say the Wasp people, must be reductio ad unum (reduced to one): one hamburger, one language (in this case, the Babel known as English) or the American (k as in killer) way of life, the equivalent of Extra moenia/ecclesia nulla salus: what a surprise. Babylon Uber Alles. Let's stop here.
Let's go back to Rodney Smith's “accommodating” book. It has already been noted that the “seal” ( Beast of Revelation 666) is placed on a page by the Chair-man, the man in the chair or Power, the Boss of San Paolo (which is also my bank, as I am an account holder and therefore I can say and write all the bad things I want about the idolatry of money; yes, the dung of the Devil as the Fathers of the Catholic Church claimed). In short, once again, this litany about the photographer Smith who is, they write and say, or rather claim manu militari, that his vision is, yes, this and that, but still the vision of a friend of friends, among mafiosi, of course.Yet this is not the case if you look at Smith's images. Except for perhaps a few shots in the open air, the sun is almost never present in his frames. On the contrary, a veil of uniform gray like a Shroud covers the skies, veiled and square, pun intended or not. No, the square is anything but dynamic, again, deadly the same wherever you look at it. Hasselblad's camera (used of Rodney) squared, which is not mentioned in the book: would have opened up the view at so-called curators & vistors. Beasts, donkeys dressed very nice of upper-class. And you need to have a strong cultural and technological background to fully appreciate Rodney's melancholic images, a man torn between New York Wasp besenisse and theology studies: irreconcilable, hence his polite cry of pain in soft light for those who understand the language and history and characters of photography. The rest is male and especially female onanism, traces of which litter the pages of the book.

Finaly a question: is Rodney's black and white images complacent as chuba chups of children? No. But more shot are too painful to look at, hurting the heart, for those who have one, once the seat of the soul according to ancient Greek philosophers. The rest is pure masturbation by laudatores, female critic.

NB. There are many images (eerie) missing on book that you will only seeing surfing on the Web


(Copy and past)
https://www.google.com/search?tbnid=Fo5BazkW3S6y3M&tbnh=0&tbnw=0&sca_esv=ea4088b713ffc869&cs=0&udm=2&tbs=rimg:CRaOQWs5Ft0uYYwrGTME1aZA4AIA&q=rodney+smith&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi3v4qA4oyRAxVadUEAHev4HvkQuIIBegQIVBAA&biw=1920&bih=968&dpr=1

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/GxrRXeKakKY



Two eras compared: on the left, the legendary Contax RTS, here SLR version rather than rangefinder, or the alter ego of the Leica, the rangefinder of photographic history; on the right, Panasonic's Lumix (part of the consortium with Leica & Sigma, or the famous, or infamous, depending on your point of view, L-Mount attachment) therefore essentially Leica (many Panasonic lenses, no less than Zeiss for Sony, for example, bear the Germanic name Elmarit, etc., and when absent rest assured that it is still the “same” optical recipe by Solms-Germany) the "rivalry" no longer so. In fact, with the advent of mirrorless cameras (once called Evil-Devil, not by chance), it is possible to "mix" things up with mechanical adapters, sometimes even optical ones, so that the two analog-digital systems communicate well with each other. In fact, on the left, cover, with its fiery red T, the Zeiss Macro 60 f.2.8, a marvel, thanks to a simple tube (in the case L-Mount) allows mounting on the Panasonic-Leica for exquisitely sharp frames, even though the optical formula was created for the analog Contax Rts, and in digital: chapeau. On the far right, ‘small’ only in appearance, another legendary analog lens, the Macro 55 mm f. 2.8, but from Yashica, which in the early 1970s Brand had a joint venture with Contax/Zeiss, as times of a well-orchestrated oil crisis, like the current standoff between Russia and the West, forced German manufacturers to land in Japan; even Leica signed a deal with the famous Minolta, which was later absorbed by Sony. Gears, in other words, all mechanical and manual wonders, not only to reproduce the legendary Kodachrome slides from the Manunzio archive, along with tons of 120 format slides, but also every still life, perhaps in combination with Helicon focus, no less powerful than aforementioned, which allows, among other things, a pan-focus (everything in focus) of the objects on the set or tresette, a fine game.



Vintage or not vintage this is question...
Integrations or syncretism? There was a time when, perhaps somewhat Manichean, categories tout court did not dialogue with each other, quite unlike the current scene where, on the contrary, they do.Technology as a domain (let's not forget) rather than “liberation” in the broad sense. The subject is difficult and lends itself to a thousand conjunctures, if not enormous contradictions. However, if we look at it critically, there are situations that make us exclaim: oh, the invention of hot water, as if the liquid had always been made possible. Yet we need the liquid, then wood and fire, a boiler to contain it, a tub to bathe in, but also suitable public baths for ‘washing’. And even Therme and their Calidarium... as we can see, it's much complex than just saying ‘hot water’. And so we come to the point. Lenses, crucibles, glass melting and... Zeiss on one side and Leica on the other, above all, incompatible. Optical marvels and excellence, no doubt. Then someone (clever minds?) ‘stirs up’ the fan bases, the worst thing for those who have nothing else to do but idolize, regardless, the mere ‘mechanics & optics’ lines per millimeter, abreactions...Modern times, which is not the Charlotte/Chaplin film, but perhaps a little infamous, as we are currently experiencing. Is this the brief return of the reviled analog vs. digital? Not quite. Syncretism is the magic word that allows the industry to continue to survive while waiting for the final collapse as iPhone Android in the broader sense...let's be clear, but let's stop here.




A local market stall where you can findany useful things for everyday needs and even a camera, yes exactly, like a meteorite falling from outer space. The cost, but was prohibitive at the time, however by to a crowdfunding ante litteram among relatives, I managed to get it and, who would have imagined, it gave my a new and different way of “photographing” the around horizon (urban life and much more). In the beginning, I took the square 6x6 film, Diana camera, to one of the many photo shops long the Main street my Town, which after a few days would return in 10x15 prints, which I didn't like much, as they were far removed from what I saw during the click. And so, with the help of an uncle who was a photographer, I tried to carry out the entire process from shooting to final photographic tiny cardboard : but how to do it? I read it long ago of those American comic strips about certain "detective" who took photographs, and in a darkroom, illuminated by the glow of red lamp so carry out an investigations. And so after buying the chemicals from the photographic store long the Main Street, taking advantage of the fact that there was not a soul at home, I unrolled the film, removing it from the typical 120 format paper support, and placed the first chemical bath in the soup tureen that was on the table but which, for the occasion, I used as a basin, as recommended by my photographer uncle, under light red lamp. Bad e wrong idea (!) in fact : before I even had time to immerse the film in the soup tureen-basin, the blackness turned the film as black as midnight. I was upset about it, blaming the fact that, at that moment, my mother had arrived and in the other room turned on the evening light. And from that initial disaster, slowly, after more than fifty years, again, I remember the disappointment of that moment.


A portico of a public washouse in an where Italian city, like a mass of women, old, young, and newlyweds, took turns washing clothes, those few and simple garments worn daily, dresses, and even newborn swaddling clothes. A ritual from another Era, decidedly "unmodern," far from the Amerika (k as killer) way of life. From Zenza Bronica SQ-A (camera 120 format) with Zenzanon 40 mm lens, translate in digital via Olympus E-1 (not Micro) Four-Thirds and 35 mm Zuiko Macro. © Copyright archive manunzio


Public washouse...
A hand gesture — at least for now, but thanks domotica will also free us from the burden of using our hands— and there you have it, the water flowing, as much as you want, at least in the West. And under excuse of climate change, there are (?!) already those who intend to speculate on it and impose a new tax in additionother: brilliant idea. And if hot water comes out the tap, the game is done. Hovewer if water is canned in a steel tub, where it is expertly mixed detergent and comes into contact with the clothes, voilà the game repeats itself in the form of washing machine: true, the Nordic peoples (the women) paires at first washing machine with a second one whose purpose to spin, expel the water, from the fabrics to be finally dried, or better yet, ironed. The many coin-operated laundromats are outside this context: named civilization. I think.The hands of "civilized" women, then, don't go numb under jets of running water...and yet there was a time, we are eyewitnesses, when simply clothes got wet a river, and when the weather wasn't ideal (it never except for the paid pens of all poets and mercenary scribes) a portico that opened to the surrounding elements (!) which offered women a modicum of shelter while their hands reddened from the icy water, the fatigue, and the anger of having been born unlike their upper-class peers, who didn't even know to washing; in fact so many washerwomen (i remebr a tiny woman) with blood-red hands were there to paied on purpose.


© Copyright archive manunzio


'nderr' 'nderr' bankanderr'
Less is more, no? I don't no...Image orchestration in Pshop: frame. Inside the windows (specular) the couds seems a little lightning.
Below windows a tiny advise: Proprietà Privata Divieto. Private Property not consentite (any thigs).
Like an espresso the image, a street photo shoot rear any Bank of any Bankister, symbolize the life from Babylon-Babel Tower (bedlam, chaos, confusion) a this day, financialization also a "breath of fresh air". Chapeau.

Ps. Images from Olympus Wz 5060 a simply Point&Shoot, but a great eye of photographer that make it




Side One

Smith like Rossi as a common patronymic. Well. Now, surfing on Internet, I come across a book dedicated to him: photographer-philosopher-theologian of studies. Rodney born in New York which the "summa" of his being and photography. Mainly in black and white, but at least two (valuable and iconic color) in the book published by a certain Silvana-Editoriale never heard at moment, which deserves for (us) non-anglophiles also italian translation. The images of book are transposed from an exhibition in Rovigo (North Italy). Vice versa, a bad as plague review (a man or woman don't make difference for idiocy) in incipit before us showing the photos: please no, thank. Like the Chairman (Bankister?) even of ‘my’ San Paolo Bank. Of course, San Paolo of Tarsus Biblical figure, has a bank...And the Mayor's (in this case a woman) writing , i.e. a very pragmatic text, sure, but about “economic repercussions” etc. etc. etc. pure idiocy. And then the priestesses guardians of Rodney Smith's thought: my God. It is no coincidence that there is no discreet excursus on the author's Hasselblad (him gear) least as I seen (reflex) him in shop window while busy photographing his wife and the travelers along a road in Northern Italy. In short, if another Great photographer (Ernst Haas) has etched in stone...
"There is a literary world of thinking and seeing; for centuries, the literary has prevailed over the visual. And today, our eyes are forced to see in literal terms. I hope for the images that, as far as possible, can do so with their own language" ...

...there must be a good reason to say that the language of the Curia, as we call the writing since the Roman Empire, and the visual language, in case but not only of Rodney Smith is other thigs. Other Word for illiteracy people (again man and woman not difference). In fact wrote Walter Benjamin
"‘It is not those who ignore the alphabet, but those who ignore photography will be the illiterates of the future". Illiterate, not the present days, no, but in future... the grammar-syntax-process etc etc etc. Illiterate Uber Alles!
In the end, a valuable book, beautifully printed in two tones, which is a rare feast for the eyes, and not spared us the nonsense (useful paid idiots or writers laudators?) better left unsaid and, as Virgil/Dante poet says, “don't worry about them, just look and move on”... That's all folks. Unfortunately.


Ps. Please note I bought my copy in bookstore and is not a "gift" of editor




Antonio...type
Anthontypes* that i write and pronuce “Anton” as Antonio remember me the Past when experimented other alternative photographic process, like put in side the chasis 4 x 5 (Linhof Kardan a view camera "beastial") a piece of paper silver halide, not a film! Ilford exactly, and after developed it in dark-room voilà as a “negative” (!). Then dryed it and printed to contact other ad same measure: resulted a positive! Like procedure make any photographer on the road, old photographer not street idiot current hypster, with view camera make like me in the Past. At the current time, example, with the fleurs or vegetable essence, steeping in alchoon or other liquid and filtered, voilà the pretty “emulsion” ready for exposition via film to conatact (a good idea make a negative, acetae sheet, printed with ink jet) thespread outon artistic papers.Alternative process? No thanks alternative e slow think of regard araound us: the life isn't a cash and carry!



*The anthotype process, it is possible to print photographs using nothing but juice extracted from the petals of flowers, the peel from fruits and pigments from plants.

(Copy and Past to learn)
https://www.alternativephotography.com/anthotypes-anthotype-process/
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