It’s Hard to Kill
My parents have only a few photos of themselves from before the Islamic Revolution in Iran. My obsession with these photos, and with the photos we do not have, led to this project: It’s Hard to Kill.
My parents have only a few photos of themselves from before the Islamic Revolution in Iran. My obsession with these photos, and with the photos we do not have, led to this project: It’s Hard to Kill.
The exhibition "Running to the Edge" combines the five projects of artist and include photography, collages, installations and photobooks
I am interested in exploring the effects of cultural and political conditioning and processes that affects the creation of memory.
It scares me how memories have been whitening from myself. I can't even make the comparisons anymore nor I don’t want to, it is contradictory.
In 1944 at Monte Sole, on the Bologna’s Appennino mountains, Casetta and Podella were 2 farms producing cereals, fruits and grapes, surrounded by a huge area of wood and chestnut trees.
Last year, I tried to use the most direct approach to take the photos along the southeastern coastal line. What I saw was completely different from that in my childhood as the result of the construction projects.
The memory in the Freudian conception is made up of active reminiscences who remember about him requiring a psychic work of transformation, manipulation and updating.
If one day you ask me to name just one thing, something that I could look at all the time or that I need most of all where I would like to be right now, I would call the sea.
I am interested in visual perception so my work often deals with time and displacement within intimate spaces.
A fairy tale is a narration based on childhood memories which takes place in a little village in the countryside.
Childhood incarnates the absolute and unalterable values of time and the passing of generations.
The road. Winter. Lack. Lack of everything that’s important. I try to think of the "road." I can’t. I’m utterly exhausted. I’m only really going because of the weather. The prospect of wind, snow, and my flashes on the beach kept me awake.
