Although we perceive them as distant, the events of the 1900s continue to intrigue us, as they are the means through which we rediscover ourselves: they catch our attention because they are still living on in our culture.
Mario de Biasi was one of the fathers of Italian photojournalism, among the most renowned in the world. He has never been seen as in the current exhibition – in all his entirety and facts – at the Casa dei Tre Oci, open until January 9, 2022.
The rooms and their colours, lively red, blue and yellow, will guide you through De Biasis’s trips in a route, made up of 7 sections, where each picture he took is a piece of history and intimate interpretation of the culture he crosses paths with.
He travelled lengths and took millions of Italians to the discovery of worldwide events along with him. Those were the postwar days: Italy was a country to be rebuilt, where trips were rare, news and pictures did not travel along the lines of digital circuits, but rather came through newspapers and magazines, in good time.
From big cities overseas to Italian peripheries, the Hungarian revolution, the Apollo 11 mission, even Siberia, below zero, where he almost lost an ear. And again earthquakes, volcanoes and celebrities of Venetian Cinema.
One of the few photojournalists to be employed full-time by a newspaper – Epoca – for which he sent stacks of film rolls from distant countries, without even looking at the results before their publication, as he was already on the road, from Africa to Japan. Brave and fearless enough to gain the title of “crazy Italian”, given to him by an Ungarian newspaper.
The exhibition was realised with the support of Silvia de Biasi, the keeper of her father’s immense archive, which renders us spectators of pictures that made his career and markes his personal projects. He brought them back home in between his long work trips, which he sometimes prolonged at his own expense.
“Mario de Biasi. Fotografie 1947-2003” demonstrates the extraordinary ability of a photographer that always had one eye on the passing scenes and the other on spacing around him, inquiring and curious, as the curator Enrica Viganò recalls, observing the world “without prejudice, and never looking the other way.”