Mario Vidor's "Neve sulla Marca" @ Galleria Browning, Asolo

Galleria Browning, Asolo
opening 19th December h 19
from 22st December 2012 to 13th January 2013 
sat-sun: 10-13, 15-18

Hereby few pics from the exhibition of photographer  Mario Vidor in Asolo, I curated in collaboration with Urbanautica's Steve Bisson and Andrea Filippin. The images are taken from the series Neve sulla Marca.

Then winter comes and the earth is silent.
Those green hills that during the hot summer were places for lovers and fitness fans are now sprinkled with white; suddenly a candid blanket covers the broad plains, the bare vines and the trees stripped of their warm leaves and rich fruits.

A light icy mist welcomes the morning’s first sunrays while the inhabitants are still snugly sleeping in their comfortable homes.

This land of wine, spring swallows, harvest festivals and luminous August nights turns silent, almost as if time stands still in a long icy moment.

Just a few loving couples stroll through the city galleries, wrapped in warm scarves that colour the grey winter days. Words produce clouds of white breath, each step leaves a footprint in the snow, and the sweet smell of hot chocolate floats among the bar tables set out with laughter and crumbs.

And while the earth stands still to follow the inescapable cycle of the seasons, people are suspended in expectation; in expectation of a ray of sunlight, a warm place on a freezing day, ice melting and making way for a new spring.

It is here that the photographer penetrates the quietness of a long winter, to capture Nature that although attractive is an enemy for humans. His approach is silent so that it does not disturb the peaceful harmony interrupted only by the rare chirping of a bird and the frantic flow of traffic in the distance.

And then, unexpectedly the snow begins to fall heavily in a cloudy turbine of crystals. Going through the deserted boroughs children’s faces can be seen at the windows as they contemplate the snow fairies. Like a village decorated for a feast, every stone, every roof, every road is festooned with fine icy lace; silence falls as it can only on snowy evenings. And while fires crackle in homes behind closed doors, night prepares to drop below zero and transform those soft flakes into beautiful multiform crystals.

When the sun returns once again to illuminate the cold hills and misty plains, the landscape that appears before the curious photographer looks as if it has been taken from a dust-covered book of fairy tales.

Every step is accompanied by that typically wintry crunching sound and remains impressed on the ground, leaving a solitary trail on an otherwise perfect scene. The cold pink of the first rays of morning sun filters through the icy leaves, creating a magic game of reflections almost unperceivable to the eye of bustling humans. And while coffee boils in the pot and the bars offer crisp warm brioche, the day slides slowly by, to the rhythm of women hurrying to the market and children’s cries as they scuffle with each other in the school playgrounds.

In the meantime the clock ticks on and the magic of winter soon disappears and will be forgotten. Drop by drop the enchantment of snow fairies will melt in a nagging tick tock from roof gutters; the hills will bloom again and people’s voices will echo through the fields and town squares.

And of those enchanted moments only a photo will remain.

Claudia Vidor