Welcome Guests is a series that I made between 2012 and 2013, which were the years that I lived in America for the first and the second time.
It’s a collection of pictures I took around the United States: documents and letters that I found and things that were given to me and I always had while I was traveling, such as a picture of Death Valley in California and a note that reminded me that I was really far away from home — or its concept.
It was mostly a way for me to play with photography, while I was working on my series Something is Missing, using an iPhone, 35mm cameras and a digital one. I was trying to work on feelings and emotions related to the instability of the act of always moving and the chaos of unsettled situations.
The experience you are suppose to have with these series is a sense of confusion and dislocation, through a representation of mundane and banal actions and experiences: there is a picture of a man cutting the grass, people who walks their dogs, a picture of a cup of coffee, one of a diner, a scanning of a picture of a typical American family house.
— Eleonora Agostini, Venice, Italy
Lacuna/ae is a project of the Venice Lagoon, a changeable place by its nature. The word “laguna” comes from the Latin term “lacuna,” which means a hole, empty space, pond, pool, absence, loss or lack. The images I chose remind us of the idea of wrecks and trails in continuous evolution, never definitive. Lacuna/ae is also an investigation into the photographic medium itself: everything seems to be and not to be, turns out and hides…. nothing is definitive or stable.
— Eleonora Milner, Venice, Italy
Like most children of my generation, I was an avid reader with a very active imagination. I created stories full of intrepid characters and riveting adventures like those in Alice in Wonderland and Gulliver’s Travels. Amusement Parks inspired me to bring that world of fantasy to life. I could hear the whoosh of the wind, the screeching of the metal, and the kids screaming. Beyond all this, I discovered hidden voices, ones that spoke from inside plastic creatures, from giants who were asleep, and toys in a world of Lilliputians. It was also my father and grandfather’s favorite place, where we shared laughs and fears, the sound of the carrousel, my favorite cotton candy and enjoyed the last very second of those memorable afternoons. They both passed away when I was very young, so these adventures still resonate in my mind as a wonderful and vivid experience.
As an adult, I began to revisit some of these memories and parks, just after sundown, when tired families were heading home. The twilight brings an ominous feel to the parks and the absence of people opens a space for me to create my own stories. There is also a stillness that allows me to bring back my memories, and I feel the echoes of my childhood and my family, who are no longer physically here, but their presence is still palpable.
These photographs represent my past and present. Not only do they remind me of fun and fantasy, but also of fear and uncertainty. The empty spaces remind me of what I have lost, but they also invite me for one last ride, one last adventure… before the lights go out.
— Eleonora Ronconi, Santa Clara, California, USA