manunzio.it logo


Cosmic Vaultings — Archaeology of the Invisible


Four oxidized sheet-metal panels are articulated by a rigid seam and slashed by a clean diagonal beam of light. The oxidation is not decay here, but a register of time where corrosion reveals an underlying map of faces. It all depends on how and where the eye—rather than merely resting—scans the surface like a sonar. High on the left, a face stands vertically in the rust, while right below it another face appears with its hair, eye, and strong nose carved into the dark iron. Moving to the right side, there is a whole crowding of female faces—some subtle, others luciferian and infernal. If you scan the upper third, two women's faces emerge together, followed by a third one higher up, and as you scan down into the lower third of the same panel, yet another female face takes shape. As Saint-Exupéry wrote, "On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur; l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." Vision is an act of extraction: where the crowd sees only rust and degraded iron, the attentive eye reveals presence.

NB. If click on image you will be able to see original







date » 09-10-2026 09:14

permalink » url

tags » autumn, fall, landscape photography, daylight in autumn,


© archive manunzio


We are, as in autumn upon the trees... the leaves.
(Giuseppe Ungaretti)




First and foremost, here and now—of a pretty decent September, just a few degrees cooler, which is better.
Ok the image in cover side, yeah, exactly: imagining the scene as a film frame rather than a still photo. Let me explain. Photography does indeed involve thinking before you click, barring lucky breaks, of course. But here it’s different.
Yeah, if I go back, well, nobody films and then writes the scene—in fact, it’s the exact opposite if, I repeat, we’re in a movie with film or “minchiapixel” (a Sicilian slang term for “dick" & " pixels” . A neologism by Manunzio, off-base and even off-key: you can tell!). Oh, citizens out there: wake up! You always have to spell everything out for grown-ups—ugh, just like in *The Little Prince*. Eh. Here, it’s the AI that had fun creating an image based on my own “input” input, just to see what kind of effect it would have, à la Jannacci (italian singer and much other) of yesteryear. And the result, to be honest, isn’t bad at all if I post it here. Black-and-white text (my input) and a black-and-white image (from AI): nothing more, nothing less—I’ll keep it to myself… well, on the Diary…

P.S. Just as the text has no space-time coordinates—which, according to Einstein Teory, is the same thing or two for the price of one (as the supermarket says)—the image, too, is a “transfiguration” of a non-place to proceed, which is what’s needed outside of “cause and effect.”
First of all, an image still possible here and now of a pretty decent September, just a few degrees cooler, which is better.




The Fortunella


It is the remake of Paul Strand’s Blind (this is a part of book that writing my book and the text left image...here’s why I recount she that cavernous, toothless Pugliese mouth, the personage—a dark abyss of a face—is the very frame of raw, unvarnished survival, mirroring Strand's portrait without a shred of Christian mercy).

Limping up and down the stone pavement of the Main Street all day long, by evening hoisting her carcass up the steep stone stairs of Locanda, clinging to the iron handrail,wheezing all the way back to the "hotel" Regina d'Italia boarding house she eathing. Bundled up, legs swollen tight into coffee-and-milk stockings, sitting watchful at a chocolate-coloured table she eating. She parries the snickers of the locals while plunging her fork into her solitary meal of the day: stewed potatoes. Cold ones, most likely.

Hunched over she own bosom, she count the day’s pennies for a night’s (as Cahrlot in movie The Monel) sleep on an impossible mattress of corn husks of "hotel" Regina d'Italia


Franco Fontana, photographer. He’s dead.


And ninety-two years is a damn good run—a worldly one, for sure. Way back when, Fontana even drifted into these Land (Lucania South Italy) circles; as I recall, hordes of trigger-happy hacks (infuriated pixel-addicts trapped in their own onanistic loop) rushed to bow before the "colorist" Fontana. A man who left his mark across the World and many Galery, as pages of that d'antan monograph published by the then Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri: I Grandi Fotografi" inside it many images of Lucania. As "All Colors of Benetton" or American way of life we could and should remember it. So a disempowered reality, an hyper-colorist image born of fantasies or mink coats—go figure. A fellow Romagnolo, Fontana finds himself his countryman Luigi Ghirri, who has also been underground for quite some time......continue
“The connection and parallel paths during the 1970s of these two Emilians (Ghirri from Scandiano/Reggio Emilia, Fontana from Modena) radically changed the way the Italian landscape and reality were narrated. Franco Fontana established an international reputation thanks to a bold, saturated use of color, reducing the landscape to abstract geometries, flat color blocks, and stark chromatic contrasts. Luigi Ghirri founded a new concept of the Italian landscape based on a conceptual, ironic, and melancholic exploration of everyday life, the provinces, and the signs of representation (maps, postcards, cinema). Despite their stylistic differences—Fontana’s geometric and chromatic abstraction versus Ghirri’s open, conceptual inquiry—their paths frequently crossed. Notable, for instance, was their shared bond with the Emilian cultural scene and even the early support given to Fontana’s work by publishing houses tied to Ghirri. Both remain fundamental points of reference for understanding the evolution of contemporary photography. A reflection on Franco Fontana’s artistic journey and his relationship with Italian landscape photography”—thus rambles the internet, that Great Box. Again Fontana wrote: "My research operation consists of isolating, in space and time, what is normally lost and blended within the infinity of details... the subjects I photograph are merely the pretext... the fascination of the image lies in the violence that created it, a violence necessary to shake off the habits that blind our gaze. We are the carriers and witnesses of the only possible meaning... objectivity is always destined to slip away from us..." — Page 7 of the referenced Fabbri monograph. Ipse dixit, and poorly so, it goes without saying. First off, with this Renaissance-derived egotism—man as the measure of All Things—sure, but with reservations aplenty. And that pleonastic "we" is even worse: pro domo sua rhetoric, straight out of Roman arrogance, Marchese del Grillo style: "...we are us, and you lot aren't shit..." Look at the ravages of Photography for those who chase after the marvels of pixels and increasingly "penetrating" sensors—one has to ask: what kind of backside do you have if the tool is about to pop right out of your mouth? Quarrymen, men who followed boss-men or got two for the price of one... let us speak no more of them and move on to what truly matters to us. So goes the so-called World: you pay the toll like Faust to Mephistopheles. De gustibus.





© archive manunzio


...FR...FFF..FR...FRR...



Advertising MOTOR - società di capitale umano, featuring that anthropomorphic "M" that turns the human being into a graphic gear, a balance-sheet commodity—"capital," indeed.
The almost surgical synchronicity: The real figure walking underneath seems literally to "emerge" from the logo, condemned to walk in the same direction, with a measured stride, inside the perimeter traced by the engineers of communication and productivity.
The visual rendering of human (woman) figure, dark and sharp, becomes the living silhouette of corporate/technological solitude, pressed against a neutral wall beneath a massive sign that defines her before she can even define herself....continue...
Prefabricated blocks. For decades, they old us the myth of the frontier and the city on a hill (america way of life, sure), only to leave us with endless expanses of drywall boxes, highway interchanges, and asphalt sprawls that they have the nerve to call a "town" or a "city." An urban design built not for people to live in, but to keep cars moving and billboard ads in place.
Calling a cluster of four warehouses and a strip of drive-thru lanes a "city" is the absolute triumph of form over substance—where boundless ambition meets the desolation. And when the rhetoric of efficiency and "human capital" tries to dress itself up as global civilization, a single glance from the street is all it takes to lay bare its fragile comedy.


© archive manunzio


Una pera o la pera? This is question...

Ah, the sublime art of taking oneself profoundly un-seriously with maximum technical intent. Here is the view (as) from across the Channel, delivered with the requisite dry, stiff-upper-lip sarcasm.
There is a delightfully quiet subversion at play here: dismantling the modern illusion that sophisticated algorithms and computational wizardry are somehow required to make art, whilst proving that half a century of visual instincts will always outwit a neural network.
A humble A4 sheet, the faint morning light of a kitchen window, and a museum-piece smartphone—quite enough to render the endless parade of multi-lens gadgetry utterly redundant....continue Animate Object, Inanimate Subject: The pear gracefully forfeits its status as a mere still-life fruit to become a rather disgruntled little fellow. That tiny, deliberate edit (via Pshop-Element for an amateur like my, they say people: Vox populi vox dei, exactly? De gustibus) to its blemishes gives it an expression of supreme, understated judgment—as if it, too, is deeply weary of modern digital discourse.
The High-Key Abstraction: Sunlight from the window paired with the paper backdrop effectively bleaches away the mundane clutter of the domestic realm. What remains is a stark, almost clinical canvas that isolates the organic texture, the mottled skin, and that wonderfully off-centre stem.
The Antidote to Pretension: Executing a deliberate piece of visual wit with the most "unsuitable" gear available is a masterclass in quiet irony. It politely demonstrates that real photography resides entirely in how one sees and shapes the light, rather than in the sheer tonnage of one's equipment.
A splendidly sardonic exercise...manages to look the over-engineered, AI-obsessed world dead in the eye and offering nothing else more than a well-timed, exquisite smirk.










Amerika (k as killer) way...


Every now and then, you have to bring yourself down to the level of ordinary madness of normal people who normally... And recommend, nonetheless, a typical Yankee whose approach is worth a video-listen, if you please—since there are insights that are anything but second-hand for those who, naturally, still practice photography with science, yes, but also with heart... and above all, guts.

Dissecting a Photo: 1964 Sears Department Store
(Copy & Paste)
https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/_q9i_HEOkxo


Ps. I wrote him...very time I watch her videos, I can’t help but smile. I smile at that classic American madness :) of living in absolute Nothingness and thinking it can be exported as a universal standard. Infamous characters, to put it mildly. Everything modern photography claims to be seems traceable to that "Amerika "with a k of killer)" way of life. Absolute madness. Yet, despite all that, the book she cites is intriguing—though buying it on Amazon costs a fortune, around 150 Euros, which is way too much.
Be that as it may, I appreciate her madness when she turns all those "talks" toward Canon printers. Beautiful machines. I print as an "artist" on the Pro 200 simply for the brilliance of its dye inks. That's all folks.
Manunzio, fotografo dal 1969.







Anno Domini 1839


August 1839 in Paris, the umbilicus mundi. Napoleon and his Grandeur—the underlying substrate of transalpine cousins descending from Caesar’s Gauls, though their tribal formats trace back to the dark forests of Germanic cavemen—have long been buried with a dose of poison. The air is electric in the not-yet Ville Lumière. A static buzz of whispers passes mouth to mouth among the common folk. Meanwhile, the powdered wigs—laden with lice, because washing is deemed a sign of popular decay, far removed from the public latrines, free fountains, and Roman thermae of every social stratum—see Deputies, "scientists" of every mandatory capitalized Order, and a horde of court hangers-on paid off by the "daubers" gather. Those Messieurs of the Academy of Fine Arts, no less....continue...

In a teeming Paris, the invention of Monsieur Jacques Mandé Daguerre is handed to the world Urbi et Orbi. His mentor is François Arago (accent on the final o), the Grand Master of the Grand Orient of France and a "radical" Deputy. A staged performance to give you chills, thrown together haphazardly. True, the political machinery began rolling in Parliament back in January of that same year, but the heavy marketing deployment hits around mid-August, right when the Masonic Sun sits at its true or false zenith.

Hugs, kisses, pats on the back, and Arago is completely unstoppable. A picturesque scene, precisely how the sacred texts of the "magnificent and progressive destinies" of Capital swallowed it whole.

Across the white cliffs of Dover (England) stands a pompous, short-tempered landowner, immortalized by history as a filthy lord barely holding back his rage: Lord Fox Talbot. A clever fox, yet he has every right to be furious: by Jove, these French people are inspicable! I am the pure truth, I am the inventor of Photography! Negative to positive, the famous window fixed on wax-treated paper, placed in contact with another, et voilà. "Stop the game," says Talbot.

Yet there is a third party, far away between the Pampas and the Amazon: another Frenchman forgotten by mainstream history and Masonic lodges alike.

The accepted story no longer holds up, which is why the trumpets are sounding—not yet of the Apocalypse, but perhaps pointing to the real inventor.

The image (tiny image) where Niépce and Daguerre formalize their business partnership, a square and compass sit right on the edge. Intelligenti pauca.of the "generous" Daguerre and his partnership with Nicéphore Niépce—whom hagiography credits with recording the rooflines of Le Gras after an eight-hour exposure—presents a specific narrative. Yet earlier still life shots of plaster casts suggest a history shaped by well-fed, directed historians. The birth of photography has many fathers not fully brought to light, while Freemasonry has pulled strings since Babel, institutionalized in London 1717 at the Goose Tree Tavern.

The Forgotten Pioneer of São Carlos to Brazil

While Paris celebrated and Talbot protested to the Royal Society, Hercules Florence—a Frenchman living in Vila de São Carlos (now Campinas, Brazil)—was working in total isolation as early as 1832–1833.

The Terminology: Florence used the word Photographie in his manuscript diaries in 1833, six years before John Herschel and Daguerre popularized the term in Europe.

The Method: Lacking European materials, Florence developed a contact printing process using silver nitrate-sensitized paper, fixed first with urine (for ammonia) and later ammonium hydroxide. He used a negative/positive system to reproduce pharmaceutical labels, diplomas, and his Zoophonie illustrations documenting animal calls.

The Rediscovery: His work remained buried in his notebooks until Brazilian photographer and historian Boris Kossoy uncovered and authenticated his precedence and scientific autonomy through laboratory analysis in the 1970s.

The Map of Fathers and Shadows


Official history imposed a narrative of simultaneous discovery between France and England. Looking past 19th-century institutional marketing reveals a broader set of key figures:

Nicéphore Niépce (left, sitdow in drawn image with Daguerre, up): Produced the 1826/27 heliograph on pewter coated with Bitumen of Judea, establishing the technical foundation Daguerre later commercialized.

Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre (left image cover) was the inventor of daguerrotype more different to Photography

Hercule Florence (center image cover) Independently produced stable photographic images on paper years before the Paris announcement.

William Henry Fox Talbot (right image cover) Invented the negative/positive paper process that formed the methodological foundation for analog photography.

Hippolyte Bayard: Developed a direct positive paper process prior to August 1839. Persuaded by Arago to delay his announcement to clear the way for the Daguerreotype, Bayard staged his Self-Portrait as a Drowned Man in protest—one of the earliest conceptual photographic works.

The end of Tragedy named Photography (at this days noticied as Fotto-grafia, or exactly Fuck-graphy" right up the ass, through the Kapital's marketing propaganda)? I don't no. And Hippolyte Bayard..?

Ps. On table (image) below hand of Daguerre a "square & compass" like sign of Freemassonery

(Copy & Paste)
https://boriskossoy.com.br/textos-selecionados/
https://boriskossoy.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/hercule_florence_image.pdf













(Copy & Past)
https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/wapY5CFsKUA



Ps. For people not speaks italian see an choise menu for other language



search
pages
i ⛶
ITA - Informativa sui cookies • Questo sito internet utilizza la tecnologia dei cookies. Cliccando su 'Personalizza/Customize' accedi alla personalizzazione e alla informativa completa sul nostro utilizzo dei cookies. Cliccando su 'Rifiuta/Reject' acconsenti al solo utilizzo dei cookies tecnici. Cliccando su 'Accetta/Accept' acconsenti all'utilizzo dei cookies sia tecnici che di profilazione (se presenti).

ENG - Cookies policy • This website uses cookies technology. By clicking on 'Personalizza/Customize' you access the personalization and complete information on our use of cookies. By clicking on 'Rifiuta/Reject' you only consent to the use of technical cookies. By clicking on 'Accetta/Accept' you consent to the use of both technical cookies and profiling (if any).

Accetta
Accept
Rifiuta
Reject
Personalizza
Customize
Link
https://www.manunzio.it/diary-d
copy copied!

Share
/ / email


Counter
595.332

Terms
cookie, privacy and copyright

Powered
myphotoportal.com

Chiudi
Close
loading