It was a photographic accident. In the sense that the concept wasn't visualised by the infamous Mister and I didn't steal it -from a different angle though- as I usually did. I never liked concepts, but I wasn't opposed in other people having one -or more. In this case the model took the initiative to fall and in that moment, the venetian monastery where the "accident" took place seemed like paradise.
Read MoreOne of those typical photographic investigations in Venice, where you intend to investigate one thing and you end up investigating another, a most unexpected one I might add...
Read More"You saw me crying in the chapel, the tears I shed were tears of joy..." sung Elvis and one could easily cry of joy in the Vatican Chapels because they were so beautiful. Of course my subject weren't the chapels themselves but the one who found refuge in them. I had a photographic investigation to do but I also had a soft spot for beautiful people blending with beautiful architecture. My subject was pursued not by me, but from a group of mysterious, very handsome men with impeccable white shirts who invaded one day the vaporetto to San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice. There was something mesmerising in their elegance and style but also something vaguely dark. All I had to do to find my subject was to follow them and I knew right there and then that this would be yet another one of my investigations that it's course had already changed in my mind...
Read MoreI was hired to photographically investigate another strange Venice creature, another dangerous subject. Her name was Medusa, she also belonged to the infamous secret circle of Il Mister (although not so secret anymore after my numerous investigations and revelations) and, what a surprise, I wasn't told (again) why she was dangerous or why she went by that name. Well, Medusa had the ability to turn men into stone with her gaze -if that as the clue that i was supposed to figure out- but I wasn't a man. And even if I were, well, it would be an interesting turn of events, to end up as a stone statue in one of the most beautiful courts of Venice. She looked at me. I don't think I turned into stone. But then again...
Read MoreThere is only one garden in San Giorgio Maggiore, in Venice. And there is no secret under the sun... But that day the sun was shining too brightly and the garden was hidden to those who cannot stand the bright light. So, in a way, it became secret...
Read MoreShe wanted to play Anne Bancroft's role in Jacques Tourneur's film noir, "Nightfall". She knew she could pull it off and so did her producer husband. I had investigated her many times in the past, but this time the investigation had taken an almost metaphysical "colour". "Things that really happen are difficult to explain" her character says at one point in the film and this is how it works. Of course, what is real and what is not, is another investigation altogether...
Read MoreIt was a bad 1984 french film with Valérie Kaprisky. But then, everything that reminds us of our youth is seen through a "summer of innocence" filter, as I call it, that feels like the seventies summer films yellow hue looks like... The past is reinvented every time we recall it, and this was one of these times. It was summer in Venice and I was investigating this delicate and sweet young artist, an ethereal presence that decided to take off her shoes and move playfully... And then I saw them. The medusas. It was the first time they were seen in Venice and everyone thought it was a good omen. The incident had a french Riviera feel to it, just like this old movie. I thought it was a good omen as well.
Read MoreIt was a school for little photographic investigators and the main lesson was geography. The reason is that photographic investigators travel very often in space and time and given that the manipulation of time has very often unpredictable results, the knowledge and control of space -in the geographic sense of it- becomes of high importance.
Read MoreIt was the day of the summer solstice and it was obvious that she was hiding. But not from me. My assignment was to investigate this beautiful woman who denied her divine nature for an obscure reason. She thought she was just a beautiful model but the way the garden embraced and protected her was more than eloquent to the contrary. it wasn't my job to reveal secret stories and I didn't try to.
Read MoreWhen a magical woman mysteriously changes outfits, there must be a hat somewhere, I though. And there it was. Changing things in unpredicted ways... Thank God that my job was only to photographically investigate...
Read MoreThere are many magical women in Venice and they excel in magic potions or spells that could make you instantly rich or famous or internationally admired. And although many people believe in them and visit them every year to renew the effectiveness of the magic they bought, I systematically avoid them because there is nothing about them to be photographically investigated. But there was one venetian witch that had captured my interest -and that of my employers, obviously- because she made magic dresses and corsets that could bind or liberate, depending on the wishes of the client. And she was beautiful. Of course I was the witness of pure magic in her presence, as I saw her magically changing outfits while being investigated. This was the first one...
Read More"Juno, the latin version of the greek goddess Hera, rules the month of June, and being the goddess of domesticity, makes June the most auspicious month for weddings". I read that in an old datebook that was sitting on my desk. I like browsing in old datebooks (both for inspiration and perspective) and that's what I was doing. It was a Llewellyn's Witches' Datebook of 2010. I always resented writing a journal, all my thoughts and feelings seemed always funny and ridiculous when I read them later on. So, no. What I liked to do was noting "headlines" about the day (some days, anyway). Like, "Today extraterrestrial weather, dust from the desert makes Athens look like Mars" or "I love him" or "Announcement: I am the new editor in chief"... Things like that. I "accidentally" opened it in a July page and since there was no headline in that page and it was the middle of June, I went back a little and saw the Juno entry. A very dear friend and beloved model of mine got married a few days ago and I knew she was protected and blessed. I love June. It's the month you can have a glimpse of the goddess Juno strolling around in a garden, or sitting on a bench, relaxing. Earthy and divine, at the same time. No doubt about it: "I love June" - this could be a new headline, by the way.
Read MoreIt was one day before the opening of the Venice Biennale. Only journalists were allowed, so I used one of my fake identities. Not so fake really, since a photographic investigator's job is not so different from that of a journalist's. Anyway, she also pretended to be one. You come to know those things after 2-3 decades of pretending. But she made my work very easy and I was thankful to her not only for this, but for her beautiful smile as well. She knew she was being investigated, but she allowed it. I made a mental note to look her up. A very interesting partnership could be in the horizon.
Read MoreThey were coming from another dimension. It's not only I who crosses the curtain in between worlds, it's them to. A photographic investigator can cross the curtain so many times, my energy, as I have mentioned before, was diminishing. For this reason, sometimes it's better to wait for them to come to me. First I saw only one -and then the rest of them followed. It was very much like The "Close Encounters" scene, in the end on the movie. This was not a movie though. And I would not recommend it...
Read MoreThere 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...
Read MoreVery 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.
Read MoreI don't know if it was an entrance or an exit. Maybe neither. There was light, so inevitably there were shadows. I remembered an arabic song called "Fly shadow, fly". Could I be investigating -without knowing it- the ability of a shadow to fly? Well, if it could, it should do it followed by this melody.
Read MoreShe always had it in her purse. The dark mirror. A little mirror that would remain dark unless her partner and soul mate was around. This mirror had been dark for a long time since this man was missing -somewhere in Sierra Nevada. It was too dangerous to try to contact him, so she was letting her instinct lead her to nearby destinations in the high mountains of California. She was hiding in the shadows and secretly picking at the little mirror. My assignment was to steal it from her, but I let her suffer by it's darkness a little more. Maybe like this she wouldn't miss it so much afterwards.
Read MoreWhat 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.
Read MoreI once bought a perfume in India, called "Night in Vrindavan". It was very exotic and "indian" -only those who have been to and loved India know what I mean- and it's name stayed with me for more than 25 years... I thought it had to do with some romantic notion, but I found out, by chance, that it had to do with the local belief that every night, in the Nidhivan forest, Lord Krishna appears, performing the divine dance with his consort, Radha. A really mystical, divine act that can't be witnessed by ordinary people, as it can drive them mad. Vrindavan is the childhood place of Lord Krishna, a holy place for the hindus. My subject was making open plans for a trip around the world and had just purchased some new clothes. Written in the label of the most beautiful blouse was the word "Vrindavan"... She told me that her first stop would be India. This subject had to be further studied, I thought to my self. To be continued...
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