Pellestrina
Pellestrina is a narrow island in the Venetian Lagoon, a slender strip of land suspended between the lagoon and the Adriatic Sea. Its geography is already that of a threshold: water on either side, a place defined as much by separation as by connection.
These photographs attend to this condition of in-betweenness, to surfaces, traces, intervals and moments of quiet disclosure. Rather than describing the island, they approach it as a place continually taking form, where land, water and human presence meet without ever becoming entirely fixed.
between two waters
a little land
still there
“The only true passage occurs in the middle.”
— Michel Serres, The Troubadour of Knowledge
“There is no world, there are only islands.”
— Jacques Derrida, The Beast and the Sovereign, Volume II
EDITIONS
The photographs are artist-made prints on aluminium, in formats ranging from 30 × 40 in to 150 × 120 cm.
The making of the series is attentive to light, texture, and gesture: each shot arises from moments when surfaces subtly shift, when the eye might glance away but lingers.
The editions are limited, signed, and presented with a sense of intimacy and pause, rather than spectacle.
Size: 30 × 40 in to 150 × 120 cm
Material: High-quality aluminum
Finish: Gloss with natural sheen
Edition: Open
Publication: Book 176pp
DESCRIPTION
These photographs and and texts do not offer an argument. They offers an encounter. The images explore wood, fallen trunks, exposed rings, fractured grain, not as subjects to be documented, nor as symbols to be decoded, but as sites in which something comes into presence. They do not illustrate Heidegger’s thought, nor does philosophy serve as their explanation. Rather, both image and reflection move along bordering paths, sometimes converging, sometimes diverging, always remaining incomplete.
For Heidegger, truth is not correctness but aletheia - unconcealment. A clearing in which something appears. Such clearing is never total. What is disclosed always retains a dimension of retraction. The fragments gathered here dwell within that tension. Wood, once vertical and alive, now cut and horizontal, bears the passing of time within its rings and fractures. Yet what it reveals is not simply history or material fact. It reveals the strangeness of presence itself: how something stands before us, shaped by growth and intervention, by earth and hand, by concealment and exposure.
These photographs do not seek to master their subject. They remain close to surfaces, textures, and shadows. In doing so, they attempt a gesture of Gelassenheit, a letting-be. The thinking that accompanies them does not resolve what appears; it lingers with it.
If there is a thesis, it is only this: that also in what seems most ordinary, cut wood resting on the forest floor, being may quietly disclose itself. This book is a site. The disclosure, if it occurs, takes place between the work and the one who dwells with it.