Alberto Albertini 16/05/2022

estrarre, aspirare, succhiare dall’immagine tutto il colore finché non rimanga che l’essenza, il significato, la materia, il ricordo…

la fotografia B&W.

To extract, inhale, suck from the image all the color until the only thing that remains is the essence, along with meaning, matter, memory…

B&W photography.

Alberto Albertini, Snow in Lombardia

Early years, not easy for anybody. Alberto documented my moods.
Nothing is real in this landscape, but this was my world.

Rosanna Albertini  16/05/2022

Colors, sounds, sentiments, are different for each person. They are the body and soul of the arts. That’s why ideas, maybe, are the most conventional and convenient food of our lives, from mouth to mouth, resting on pages, never definitive. They only sound like the daughters of certainty.

I do know from the creeping sense of belonging inside my body these images are the grainy texture of my own life, as real as I can be. 

My grandfather’s paintings in B&W photos — I was painted in some of them— are the most unreal. But, an imaginary world which was mine as a child is completely there. Family instead is the true mystery, a gallery of portraits of unknown persons, some voices in my memory, who are they? Yet, they are my family. Alberto is one of the few I know a little more, late in our lives we became friends. This blog, a binding space. 

La nonnina, little grandmother was her name. I don't remember her at all, she was grandfather's Oreste mother, gave birth to numerous children, I met seven of them.
From aunt Lina's stories:  father was a blacksmith who wanted his four daughters to be strong. He used to give them a very thin dust of iron he had prepared, to be swallowed in a wafer. All the girls had colitis but survived for a long time.
Not much food in the house. Lina only had an apple for lunch when she went to school. She agonized smelling the salami sandwich the teacher was eating, and smiled of satisfaction as the teacher, after lunch, had the hiccups.
Father (great-grandfather Luca) was also an inventor. His machine to separate the grains of rice from husk worked well. No financial advantage ever touched the family.

Alberto and Enrica, a couple from the 40s to these days  
Grandfather Oreste was an itinerant painter. The Dolomites his favorite landscape. This photo of him holding the painting on his shoulder, was taken the first day of World War II, in September 1939. Family often followed him. Grandmother Rosa Maserati never stopped being well dressed, even up in the mountains. I'm very much like her. 
Alberto and his mother Rosa
Odd photo of three noses. It's also a portrait of the 30s' life style. Grandmother Rosa, first on the left, with friends. The tall man was one of grandfather's best friends, psychiatrist Enrico Morselli. I met him and didn't like him. I was in my twenties, discovering a new life in the university years, often tortured by headaches and stressed by an enormous amount of work in order to survive: since I was eighteen no one supported my life or my studies. Morselli used to say women should not work nor study... Or was I not compatible with his family? Grandparents brought me with them for dinner at his house when I was three years old. I disappeared under a table. Not even an appealing glass of dessert with a cherry on top -I can still see it- convinced me to reappear. The first unshakable NO of my life. Mister psychiatrist and his sisters didn't avoid framing me: "the girl has character" they said. What did it mean? I certainly did not know. 
Below a painting by Oreste Albertini that I never saw except in this B&W photo. An imaginary landscape. Maybe hardships of war and after war life took the shape of mountains.   
Alberto with his beloved dog, I don't know if Petunia or Baldo.