There was a mysterious gardener in Villa Herriot, in Venice. He appears in the mornings and talks to the few visitors of this magnificent place, but none of the residents is aware of his existence. He never appears in a company of more than 2 people and he always talks about the marvels of the garden and about other, mystical, hidden garden treasures in Venice. I saw him and I talked to him while passing through, but sadly, I didn't photograph him. When I talked to people of him, everyone looked at me like I was crazy... "Gardener? What gardener?", they said. I scheduled a photographic investigation in the Villa hoping to capture a shot of him. Of course he did not appear. My subject was beautiful and full of grace though... Her name was Ramona, and she had also seen the gardener. Maybe some gardeners can't be seen by everyone, I thought. Especially in Venice...
Very often in Venice, spies like to disguise as fashion models. And it's a good disguise because it allows them not to avoid photographers while hiding. One of the paradoxes of the ingenious venetian spy web that I have come to know so well in the last years. The only clue that I had about the place of this photographic investigation was a word: Arcana. At first I though that it had to do with tarot cards (and started cursing because I had forgotten my tarot deck in Athens), but then I remembered Corto Maltese's "Corte Sconta called Arcana" in his adventure "Fable of Venice". Of course I was one of the 5 people who had the key to this secret place. There are no coincidences in the photographic investigation business. He was there, waiting. I did my job, as I always do.
What can really be the end of a photographic investigator is not travelling in space, but travelling in time. And I've done that a lot... For some unexplained and probably mystical (or totally meaningless) reason, every time I had to travel in time I was going back to Venice. So, my energy resources were every time smaller, although my ticket was getting cheaper and cheaper. It felt like a countdown. "Al fin, que para morir nacimos" as they say in Mexico... "In the end, we are born to die". Who knows? Maybe the end of my photographic investigations would come in the middle, inside the time vortex, outside of time. I wonder if all my work would disappear with me too. It should, I think.
I am not always hired to photographically investigate mysterious personalities. Sometimes my assignments have to do with some secret technological invention or material, informations hidden in peoples clothes or accessories and so on... This time I found myself again in Venice, investigating... a dress. It was made by a revolutionary material, called "Incognito" that didn't need washing or ironing and could stay fresh for a maximum of 10 days, making it the ideal item for medium time getaways or business travel (even vacation). It was conceived to accommodate the ideal of "no luggage traveling", an ideal that I am proud to say that I am a great advocate of, since I love travelling to exotic places only with the clothes I am wearing, my photography kit and my book. I had figured that everything else I could need (mostly pareos, hats, sunscreen and swimming suits) I would be able to buy there. The dress in question was ideal for spring and summer travel and the traveler should be able to carry all that she would need in the large bag that came with it as an indispensable accessory, mostly because women feel secure by caring a bag -being a huge bag carrier myself, this is a mystery I haven't solved yet.
One of the most essential reasons mystery people -the people I investigate- prefer Venice for their activity is that Venetians never use gondolas. They are reserved for the dreadful tourists. So the people in question use them widely. Who wants to look at a tourist in Venice? Hiding in plain site has always been their game.
It was a beautiful, cold morning in Venice, full of promise. Another thing that stuck to mind was an overpriced coffee in Rialto, but sometimes, crisp, promising mornings in Venice make you want to use the bathroom desperately...
This was his code name and I was supposed to photographically investigate him while passing by the infamous Bridge of Sighs in Venice. Ironically, the real Casanova had actually crossed that bridge. But then, Casanova was one of the very few that had managed to escape from the prisons of Venice... That should have made me a bit more careful and alert, but it didn't. So I ended up mesmerised by what was supposed to be the last sight the future prisoners had of the sky and the outside world -and what a world that was!- and my inner ear fell wide open to their sighs and their thoughts. "Ponte dei Sospiri" was the name given to it by Lord Byron, who, like me, was using Venice to escape from uncomfortable realities... There are no coincidences, I knew that, that's why, deep inside, I knew that my Casanova -like the real one- had already escaped, not because he fantasised or dreamed about it, but because it was the only thing to to.
Mirrors are not always welcome but they are always there, in front of us. Photographically investigating what mirrors can do... Is it the same thing as meditating on the human experience?
The good thing about the states of mind (there are many bad ones as well, but I am not focusing on them) is that you can be in them whenever you want -which in the venetian state of mind case is constantly. A photographic investigator also knows that being constantly in a state of mind transports you physically to the place that this state of mind is connected with. Travel or relocation is a lot easier and faster this way.
The life of a photographic investigator can be "found" in or "described" by Electric Light Orchestra's songs. It's magic. So, today, I guess it's "Heaven only knows" from the album "Balance of Power": Now the sun will shine And I'm gonna work it out this time And before the light All I gotta take is one more night Heaven only knows, I'm really on the level Heaven only knows, I'm trying to find a way Heaven only knows, I'm walking down a straight and lonely road today
Whenever you hang your clothes to dry in Venice, I'll be there to photographically investigate them, rest assured! A photographic investigator only has so many assignments...
She was a fellow photographic investigator. It was obvious from the way she was trying to avoid my lens. Of course this is impossible. But she didn't know... I met her in the airport, as I was waiting my delayed Honolulu flight. Alohe oe, the beautiful song that the hawaiian queen Lili'uokalani had composed a long time ago, was in my ears and in my heart. Another unplanned photographic investigation... Until we meet again...
That morning I woke up in Venice and, the thought that I had received bad news the night before, didn't appear in my mind immediately. Those precious 10 seconds of freedom from the past gave me a kind of optimism... Maybe tomorrow they would be 15 or 20... My first impression was a song from my youth - from those years that for some reason always bring a feeling of carelessness and happiness, although you know that they weren't that careless nor that happy... But it was a good start. Another day in paradise was about to begin... All I had to do was to photographically investigate a beautiful young pianist who belonged to the mysterious Il Mister circle. And mysterious and reserved she was... I had to take extra precautions as I was warned about her extraordinary ability to manipulate everything and everyone while she was playing Chopin. I cannot reveal these precautions. They obviously worked though, because all that she played was Chopin...
She was being watched and she knew it... Ennio Morricone's mesmerising theme from an old french movie with Alain Delon, Jean Gabin and Lino Ventura was haunting the almost deserted pavilions of the Biennale of Venice. Something was wrong and each time footsteps approached she felt the danger. But not fear. Of course I was there not only to investigate her but also to protect her from her pursuers. It was her shoes that they wanted. In the heel of the left one there was a hidden secret. Pressure would destroy it, so the only way to ensure her safety was to make her run... And I did.
Another obscure Venice personality, connected to the Mister circle of spies and other mysterious people... Her code name was "Mis Legs" not only for the obvious reasons but because this was the last thing her enemies saw after they were defeated... I investigated her through many angles and the fact that you are seeing the fruits of my photographic investigation proves that I wasn't her enemy. To be continued...
In between photographic investigations, random shots of Venice. Sunday mornings I always visualise of moving there... And I always wanted to make a post with the word "untitled" in the title!
Photographically investigating people who aren't real -but they think they are- is a challenge... Who knows... maybe I am being investigated myself right now. How do I know for sure that I am real? When the question really arises, answering it becomes a true challenge... You should try it yourself!
My intention was to fool my employers that this investigation had taken place at night somewhere in Giudecca, in Venice... My subject, a woman of mystery, didn't give me any trouble, it was almost as if we had planned a photo shooting... Truffaut's film gave me the idea for the deception but I couldn't go through with it... Underexposing an underexposed situation seemed to me ironic and pointless... It wouldn't be the first time that an investigation would take a different twist... I decided to follow that one to see where it goes...
Mister Minimal had a whole chapter for himself in my photographic investigations' book... Elusive, mysterious, a published photographer, very rich and very loved, he was called by many "The King of Venice". He was also one of my favourite subjects and a very lucky man. Let's face it: being investigates 3-4 times a year by a photographic investigator as myself is a rare thing! Mister Minimal always knows when he is being investigated but never shows it. That's one of the things that make him a great subject. As well as the fact that he likes to walk ahead of everybody, preferably in empty narrow streets, so his minimalism is easy to capture. Mister Minimal's photographic style is a projection of his true self. Beautiful minimal black and white empty spaces that suggest a welcoming heart, an unprejudiced mind and an openness of spirit. And although my sources tell me that from time to time he is letting the troubles of his earthly existence carry him in the crowded frames of worry and fear, I can always see him walking the sunlit path of great, pure, yet elusive, minimalism...
