Christian Bobin

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Giacomelli, deeply enamored with painting and poetry, imbued his photographic work with this passion. A mere glance at his photographs reveals that he did not merely capture images, but rather, he sang and orchestrated them like a composer, creating a visual symphony that resonates with the viewer. His love and attachment to his city and homeland was so profound that he never ventured far from its borders, choosing to remain close to his roots. It was not long after he began his photographic journey that he joined the artists' association of his city, forging close bonds with fellow creatives. It was in these circles that he first met Walter Bastari, and their shared vision and artistic sensibilities inspired one of his most captivating collections. The intimacy and realism captured in the photographs of the artist reveal the striking similarities between the two. Bastari's paintings are a testament to this, portraying people with intricate folds and creases, exuding an eerie yet vibrant color palette that defies the expectations of a painter living in the aftermath of two world wars. In his photograph, Giacomelli masterfully captures the essence of his painter friend: a man who hides behind his canvas, creating illusions with his art. The serious expression, closed lips, and carefully placed glasses on his nose convey the weight of his experiences, despite his relatively young age. The faded cloth shirt he wears only adds to the sense that he has lived a lifetime. Holding tightly to the frame of his canvas, the painter's fingers reveal his strong attachment to his work, as if it were the only thing he has left in the world. In this photograph, Giacomelli not only captures Bastari but also displays his unwavering belief in his friend's artistic talent by placing his reflection in the background. The resulting image creates a captivating interplay between the painter and his shadow, one that holds the viewer's gaze in a mesmerizing loop. The shadow, in turn, sheds light on other aspects of the painter's life, as it appears to depict a thin man carrying a weighty burden on his shoulder, with his hand propping it up. The box that replaces the man's head is disproportionately large, as if it contains all of his dreams, desires, and beliefs, which he channels into his imaginary paintings. This chest must be held tight to prevent time from eroding it or the earth from swallowing it whole.

Meanwhile, the lower left corner of the image reveals the final destiny of the game for us. The shadow of an object resembling a fishing pole seems to capture the painter and his wish-box in its grasp, as if they are being hunted down. The curve on the wall that resembles a fishing line serves as a final reminder of the painter's destiny, which is inextricably linked to the fate of his canvas: Being hunted.

Life for a painter is a canvas, for a photographer is a camera, and for a worker, is a job. These may seem like simple desires upon which one's entire life is based, but time's unrelenting grip shows no mercy towards even the smallest things. It seizes them and drags them into its dark abyss, ensuring that happiness cannot be found on earth. It mocks those who are born believing in the myth of happiness and blindly search for it.