The window onto my silence has opened with a perfume of light…
One evening, at La Scala, the seasons entered my soul. I listened with eyes closed and, in the darkness, the music awakened colors and forms that I had believed dulled in my life. I cherished them, caressed them, then pinched them lightly awake. Fostered by my breath, the newborn images arose; like weightless photographs they took on a light, varied form, and then, visible even to my memory, they slipped away.
Our life is a long sequence of images.We do not know where the great archive of lights and shadows that lives within us lies, but music helps us open unsuspected channels of discovery. It opens doors and passages, creating a current of fresh air in which everything starts running again, like a film when its frames encounter the light of a projector. What are the images of my seasons? They are visions never stilled, fixed, or too precise. Music awakens images vanished from my memories, from time and the path of life.To reproduce this flow of emotions,my photography evolves, changes, adapts, and learns finally to follow the outlines of a mind in motion. If first my objective as a photographer was to grasp and freeze the unmoving instant, now it becomes to stop movement.The movement of my memory, of the wind in the soul, of the seasons that alternate and are renewed in me with unchanged wonder. My spring is born in water. It is water that restores life and color to the land.The flowery fields are the natural succession and expression of a rebirth believed possible and impending. I visualized the summer in part with pages of “flourishing fields under the sea.”The sea also follows the rhythm of the seasons and its currents, depending on variations in the strength and warmth of the sun, which brings different nutrients and lights. The absence of sound under the waves miraculously leaves more space for colors and the forms of marine nature. The absence of sound facilitates the birth of delicate inner notes. A discreet and silent melody that, coming from the depths, brings to the surface a subtle strength, ancient yet vital like breathing. Down there a dialog is born that it is barely a whisper, between our past, our present, and what we believe is our soul. The summer on earth takes on the colors of tropical orchids. No other flower represents so well the desire of nature to sing the joy of the sun. Can you catch the scent? A warm perfume of vanilla and cacao fading in the air? The mountain represents my autumn, the season of the last fire and of separation.Thoughts and images pursue each other and, in hurtling down, free to fall, never ask where the wind or chance will take them. Then everything becomes slower and the bright larches seem to look at the sky one last time before abandoning themselves to the white shroud. And the snow arrives accompanied only by a few notes of eternal, light rustlings of sleep. But it is a cold that does not frighten, because it brings the message of a certain awakening. “…This is winter, but such that brings joy,” wrote Vivaldi in the sonnet introducing winter. Because the frost preserves the seed of rebirth. Nothing is lost in the cycle of life, which is renewed with tenacity and gratitude
This new project of Luca Artioli is inspired by the Four Seasons of Vivaldi in collaboration with the prestigious Theater La Scala of Milan. The images and the words of this book seem to touch the time that fly away and the current of emotions spreading in the hours of our life. Music is sound that once arose, vibrates towards the sky overpassing and beating any borders. Artioli unique tecnique capturing a world in constant motion, is a perfect vehicle to show the deep poetic correlation of music and that of the nature surrounding us. Just like Vivaldi’s Four Season this book will be music for the heart.