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PORTFOLIO

30.01.2015

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After living abroad for a number of years, photographer Giulio Rimondi returned to Italy. But what does his homeland look like nowadays? Rimondi sets out in search of his first love, discovering himself along the way.

You can see the first parts of his journey here: Part 1, Part 2

“As I’m leaving a trattoria on the main road, a car travelling at top speed clips me, but doesn’t stop. I shout and swear, my wrist is in bad shape. A young guy offers to take me to the emergency room in his van. His name is Santo and he’s going to Calabria to get married; he insists that I go to the wedding.

Africo – an exotic name. In actual fact, it’s a desolate town with a few streets and a square, which was constructed below the old town, abandoned in the 1950s. I have vague memories of the wedding: a non-stop round of toasts, karaoke and dancing that went on for hours. I decide to walk off my hangover.  I follow the dry river bed, then take a steep path right up to the top. I arrive at Roghudi, a ghost village in the heart of Aspromonte. In the wrecked interiors of the houses I find the carcasses of goats that wolves had devoured,  knowing they wouldn’t be disturbed. A plume of smoke rises from the hillside; but when I reach it I see no one at first, only a heap of stones that must once have been a house. I go in.
An old woman is shivering by a meagre fire. She doesn’t say a word, maybe she can’t even see me. She looks at the sky through a hole in the ceiling. I don't seem to exist for her, even when I speak; but when I move to leave, she amazes me by repeating my words, northern accent and all. Then, as I walk away, I hear her say, “Goodbye, all the best.”

In the evening, I return to Bova Marina and wind up in bed with a waitress who calls me by another man’s name while making love. When I leave, I notice that someone has put a dead duck outside the front door as a warning. I decide to get out of there pronto.

Naples, finally. Along the Castel Dell’Ovo promenade, cadets on leave from the Amerigo Vespucci flirt with girls in miniskirts. I feel lonely, but the city is so alive tonight that it cheers me up just to look at it.”

Giuilio Rimondi

Born in Italy in 1984, Rimondi studied literature and history of art. In his photo reportages he focusses primarily on social phenomenon and problems in the Mediterranean region. His photo journalist work has been published in the New York Times Lens, Le Monde, Repubblica and other European and Middle Eastern magazines.

www.giuliorimondi.com
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