Special mention at Open Synap(see), 2013
1st prize Trentino Immagini 2013, Baselga di Piné
This is a very personal story that tells about my feelings during a very hard period of my life, going through my difficulties in having a child, my husband's disease and finally my child's birth.
These photographs are my footprints and my crumbs on the path. And then, all of a sudden these tracks become my memories. I just take pictures at what I like, tell about y worls, my emotions, the little horrors of everyday life and I turn what I see in what I feel.
Daniela Bazzani’s pictures impress for the simplicity of their language and the remarkable narrative and style choices. Her images are sincere and straightforward. They cannot leave you unresponsive; on the contrary, they touch the beholder with their immediacy.
The great topoi of literature and art, such as maternity and sickness, are very difficult to deal with as an artist. In her “Personal” research, though, Daniela Bazzani faces and manages them with remarkable sensitivity and skill. Her natural inclination for reportage, which has always been clear in her work, and her experience as mother and woman, were of great help. As a person she experienced great joy and sometimes, great suffering, as it always happens in life as we grow.
In conceptual photography, though, autobiography is residual as compared to the vision of reality as an inner process, which is marked by the traces left by experience in a story reminiscent of Virginia Wolf and James Joyce’s stream of consciousness.
As in the literary masterpieces of the great modernists, as well as in the photographic work of many contemporary photographers, traditional grammar rules are abolished, punctuation disappears and images fade into a dreamlike language to portray the inner self.
Feminine sensitivity seems to favour this inner projection translating, as in the case of Daniela Bazzani, into a complex cerebral vision, where daily actions and images take up a new meaning as they connect with the deepest topics of existence.
Water, as a primordial element, accompanies the narration in an amniotic immersion leading to the origin of life. Life is made of births: one’s own, symbolised by the old cradle in the attic and, most importantly, the new birth, warmly portrayed with a sun-drenched bulging belly; but life is also suffering and physical decay: a hospital bed, a wound, a scar; finally, our deepest fears are consumed in half light: a rabid dog clenching its teeth and a Christmas tree suffocating in nylon.
All these elements appear and disappear in a silent stream of consciousness, where form and content overlap, fading out the edges and giving colours pastel shades, losing balance with oblique lines and taking up dim lights. This is the other view, the one from within.