No words, just a found image.
Red Car, Alley, Trastevere, Rome
Category Archives: Street
Old Cars, Trastevere
I love old cars. When I was in high school, I drove a 1962 Nash Metropolitan aka a bathtub on wheels, aka the car that floats (but it doesn’t- it’s not an Amphicar, which did float and drive in water- the Met just looks buoyant). I loved that car despite all its flaws and shortcomings. So I get a visceral reaction when I run across antique cars. These two were outside a restaurant in my neighborhood (which I did not have a chance to try).
Both were being used to advertise the restaurant. I don’t think the truck got driven around much if at all, what with the barrels in the bed with the restaurant name branded into them, and the pumpkins and gourds on top. The FIAT wagon, though, certainly looked like it could be used. I passed them on two different days and on both days neither vehicle appeared to have moved any.
The FIAT wagon looks like the kind of car I’d enjoy having, though – folding canvas top, cute 1950s design, compact enough to be useable in the city, but enough space to haul stuff around. And it would definitely make all the right noises and have that old car smell. You know, a touch of motor oil and unburnt gasoline, combined with the funk of aging upholstery. Terrible cologne idea, but inside an old car? Magic.
Mailbox, Trastevere, Rome
Rome is a city known for many things – fine food, ancient architecture, more churches than you can shake a stick at, and among other things, graffiti. This poor mailbox has been heartily defaced – scribbled on, stickered, and overall abused. Yet it still soldiers on in its duty, collecting the mail. Here is my portrait of the mailbox to elevate it into the pantheon of my Ordinary Objects series:
Something I found fascinating was the degree to which English has penetrated into Italian life. In the big cities, almost everyone speaks it to some degree or other. Signage in museums is in Italian and English – no French, no German, no Spanish, no anything else. Just English and Italian. Even the graffiti is often in English, like the little mushroom to the right of the mailbox here, and some obscenities on a wall outside the Garbatella Metro station (forthcoming in a future post). I don’t know what quite to make of it – while it makes life easier for me as a visitor who is not proficient in Italian (I can fake it ’til I make it based on my fluency in Spanish), I do worry about global homogenization.
Payphone, Florence
Another in my Portraits of Ordinary Objects series.
I’ve been working on this series for a while now, photographing common things we see every day and take for granted. I keep on doing this around the world, photographing pay phones, mail boxes, trash cans, fire hydrants, all the little things that populate the overlooked corners of our daily lives. The interesting thing about them is that despite cultural differences (mailboxes in France are yellow, in the US they’re red and blue) they’re pretty much instantly recognizable across all cultures. You don’t have to be a Spaniard to recognize a Spanish mail box, pay phone, or trash receptacle.
Vintage Bus Shelter, Rome
This is where I went to catch a bus to go to the Vatican Museum on my first day in Rome. It’s a vintage bus shelter, hard to date, but I’d guess post-war, maybe as late as 1950s. What you can’t see in the picture is that in the middle of the structure is a news-stand. Today it’s not so bad, but I wouldn’t want to have had to work there even as recently as the 1980s when diesel exhaust was much heavier than it is now.
That’s actually a sense-memory I kind of miss – you knew you were in Europe when you smelled the diesel exhaust everywhere. That and certain kinds of tobacco. It’s still a noxious odor, but the emotional context of it is so positive. I suppose geologists feel that way when they smell sulphur or biologists with methane.
Juggler, Piazza Navona
This is something I’m working on doing more of- photographing people in the wild, so to speak. I do well in the studio, where people are expecting you to take their picture, and for that matter have given you some measure of control over the experience. But “street” photography, photographing people out and about doing things where they’re not expecting to be photographed, well, that’s an entirely different animal. I find it easier to photograph people who are performing or in some other way putting themselves out there to be observed. If nothing else it’s good practice for more elusive subjects.
This young man was out on the Piazza Navona, juggling this glass sphere. He had a sign up with his busking bowl that described it as a particular kind of juggling – I forget the term, but he would roll the glass sphere up and down his arms, across his neck behind and over his head. Here he has the sphere on his elbow, then at the end of his fingers.
Youth, Palazzo Medici-Riccardi, Florence
I saw this young man sitting on the bench around the Palazzo Medici-Riccardi. I don’t know what he was waiting for – might have been a bus, or a group of students visiting the Palazzo. Regardless, his pose cried out to make his portrait.
Souvenir Kodak Film, Florence
This little souvenir shop is in an alleyway just off the Piazza del Duomo in Florence. The shop is sill in business, but I caught it early in the morning before they opened. I felt it was a good metaphor for Kodak- the name is still recognizable and marketable, but it’s rather sleepy, dusty, and to many folks it’s perceived as already shuttered.
Of course, I took this with the latest generation of Kodak color film – Ektar 100 – which is perhaps the finest grained, most color-accurate film ever made.
Yellow Wall, Garbatella
As I was coming down the stairs from the pedestrian overpass connecting the Garbatella Metro station with the other side of the railroad tracks, I saw this scene. This is actually about repetition, in a way: a repetition of one.
There’s one lamppost, one van, one A/C unit, and one yellow wall. A series of solitudes.
Leaf, Cobblestones, Centrale Montemartini
Just a one-off today – a single leaf that had turned brown and fallen on the black cobblestones outside the Centrale Montemartini museum.
In travel, you make plans, and if you’re smart, you have either backup plans or you’re open to serendipity. I do a bit of both.
I had wanted to go see the Museo Centrale Montemartini, which is a collection of overflow ancient sculptures from the collections of the Capitoline Museums in downtown Rome, housed in a former power generation plant along the Tiber river. I had figured I’d go there on Monday, since most museums are closed on Monday, but the Capitoline Museums are open on Mondays. Well… long story short, Centrale Montemartini may be part of the Capitoline Museum group, but since it’s three subway stops out of downtown, it’s not like the ones on the hill overlooking the Forum, and it DOES close on Mondays. So I found myself in semi-suburban Rome looking at a closed museum, camera in hand. What’s a girl to do when faced with a loaded camera and a closed museum? Photograph the first fallen leaf of fall on some artfully laid cobblestone blocks in the museum driveway (and get honked at by a scooter driver for blocking the two and a half lane wide driveway). It also gave me time to shoot the bridge you saw in a previous post.
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