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Forcella is photobook by two photographers who have a history of working together on long-time projects and assignments: Valentina Piccinni and Jean-Marc Caimi. It was  first published in 2015 with Witty Kiwi as a 132-pages trade edition. The book takes us on a rough ride through the oldest neighbourhoods of Naples: Quartieri Spagnoli, Sanità, the city beaches of the Caracciolo broad walk and of course also Forcella,  an infamous quarter “stabbed in the deepest guts” of the city.




© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

In its introduction the authors write: “In Forcella time is suspended, frozen in a undefined era that holds the breath from postwar to the Eighties; modernity and globalisation didn’t make their way through the daily life of common people.”

The authors could not have given us a better lead to their work. Indeed, Jean-Marc’s and Valentina’s Naples is far away from bling-bling Italy as it is stage-managed by Silvio Berlusconi on his television channels.  We are far away from temptation island where the grass is green and the botoxed girls are pretty. We are are also far away from urban, progressive but alltogether petty bourgeois subcultures. Forcella is presented as a rather uncomfortable setting, frozen indeed in cold and hard contrast B&W’s. We see tough plants resistent to the leaden sun on the city, tough animals showing their teeth, and tough folks in the austere conditions of their bare appartments.




© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

The people of Forcella seem to be enjoying the nearness of the sea and the coolness of a shadow in town, but it is also clear that a walk and a talk is all they really have. Their skins may be elegantly tanned by the sun, our attention is only drawn to the moles of imperfection or to tattoos showing enigmatic messages. The looks in their eyes are not seducing the reader not even pleasing the photographers.



© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

In an interview Jean-Marc Caimi explained that the neighbourhoods they photographed harbour a unique way of living. “A pure, old fashioned humanity is reigning, instant friendship is offered, derived from a widespread and unconscious awareness of all being in the same boat.” It is suggested that the locals are living along ancient mediterranean rites and codes of friendship, politeness, honour and hospitality. They seem to be leading their lifes as it was taught by their mothers, fathers, grandparents, uncles and aunts. The loyalty to their traditions makes them resilient against economic and cultural transitions that are making the powerless even more vulnerable.



© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

But places like Forcella are also notorious enclaves in modern Italy; homes to the fiercest mafia groups of the continent. Their feuding is ruthless. The list of victims of extortions, crossfires or brutal targeted killings remains always open. When the state comes to find the perpetrators, codes of silence keep all mouths closed.


© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

Jean-Marc and Valentina write about the neighbourhoods of the camorristas and their victims that these are “places where poverty is the queen and camorra the king.” The book is following a trail through these quarters, from beach to square to church and back. The social reality over there is evoked by details. We often find cheap, kitschy objects that are most probably “Made in China”: The only products of globalized culture that wash ashore in such environments. On the same trail that we follow,  we discover also effigies of the Madonna or parafernalia of SSC Napoli, highly valued objects that can offer hope and redemption.




© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

Remarkably, the Neapolitans that we see, show themselves without any reservation. Sometimes they expose us their bodies, languorously. The looks at the camera and the bodies make me wonder who is leading the dance in Forcella. Is it “the queen” (poverty) or is it “the king” (traditional culture)?




© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

Maybe “the unique way of living” is only a weak bid against a society where wealth and power are concentrating in ever smaller circles. Mental or emotional attachments to the codes of the past are maybe the last  straw for people that – in our challenging times- have been deprived of a proper education system. Maybe the barbaric vendettas  are only weird relics of the past, cultural fossils. Maybe they are practised only for the sake of local culture, maybe they are harmless for those who live outside Naples.

Let’s read the baffling but beautiful quote by Pier Paolo Pasolini about the Neapolitans at the beginning of the book: “I have realised this: Neapolitans are today a big tribe who, instead of living in the desert or in the savannah, (…) live in the belly of a great port city. This tribe has decided (…) to die out, by rejecting the new power, that is, what we call history or modernity. (This rejection) give a profund (sic) melancholy, like all tragedies that take place slowly (…). Neapolitans have decided to die out, by remaining until the very end who they are, that is unreachable, irreducible, and incorruptible.”


© Valentina Piccinni & Jean-Marc Caimi

Pasolini is apocalyptical and hypnotising as ever. But we can also see the old, popular cultures of Naples as a fertile soil for a positive solution to the eternal conflict between the powerless and the system. Apparently, Naples has become “one of the most important examples of a European ‘rebel city’, in which municipal power is shared with social movements and civil society organisations to further the commons and innovate new forms of democratic participation“.

Anyway, Forcella’s trade edition is sold out now. Luckily,  the “binomial production team” self-published a “special dummy book edition” (30 copies) in June 2016. This second version is a 90-pages spiral bound notebook with a new selection of the images, xeroxed on French Lana Paper. It is presented as “the photographer’s cut“. And the photographer’s cut is even more uncompromomising than the trade edition. Against all the odds in Italy’s post-Berlusconi surreality, the authors clearly side with the rebels. Good stuff!

Thank you very much Mrs Piccinni and Mr. Caimi!








éléments d’une typologie de l’urbanisation contemporaine d’un village français de deux mille huit cent trente neuf habitants

For a change this post is not reporting on one single photobook but on a series of 10 booklets or so-called zines. The series is treating one single subject, that is the place where the photographer is living, his village.


© Christophe Le Toquin

The village is Noyers sur Cher, a commune in the heart of France and the photographer is Christophe Le Toquin, a.k.a. Christer Ek, the inspiring and always enthusiastic voice behind the photobook blog “Who needs another photo blog“.

It is said that zines are usually made with a very specific concept in mind. And that is definitely the case here. As we can learn from the title, the photographer is zooming on “elements of a typology of the contemporary urbanisation of a French village of two thousand eight hundred and thirty nine inhabitants“.  Changing the scales for each volume, he is patiently observing from each possible angle “the effects of modernity, its accomplishments and its failures, on a rural town”.


© Christophe Le Toquin

In a way, Christophe seems to have conceived the series as as work of microhistory of his village, in the tradition of the famous, quasi literary microhistories of other villages, like Montaillou (Le Roy Ladurie) or Montereale (Ginzburg). The difference being that he is not delving into the convictions, vagaries and misfortunes of the villagers (nobody from the 2.838 co-citizens is made visible). Instead, myriads of tangible traces are shown that the villagers are leaving behind while constantly building and re-building their habitat.

Let’s follow two (of the many) threads of such traces that are laid out throughout the series. First, there are those elements that have been disaffectated with the pace of time:  a rocking horse with broken legs, a worn out mattress, a car without headlights. We also see a factory, a signal-cabin and a filling-station all fallen into disuse. They are dismantled. All these elements may have been certainties in a local’s life. Now they lay forsaken in the eternal shadows. Only the photographer-microhistoriographer hasn’t discarded them from his work.


© Christophe Le Toquin

Another thread doesn’t cast any doubt about the speed at which progress is imposing itself onto the place:  thoroughfares, electricty and telephone cables, railways, road markings, parking facilities, power pylons, roundabouts. Yeah, these are the elements that are conducting the villagers fast and efficiently to their future!


© Christophe Le Toquin

Like a real historiographer, the photographer is never becoming sentimental, neither when he is focussing on the elements that are disaffected nor when he is focussing on the elements that are promissing progress. The series has nothing in common with Rimbaud‘s mindblowing farewell speech to his own French village Roche, where he was declaring his sympathy with all things disaffected, with “les arriérés de toutes sortes, mendiants, brigands, vagabonds, saltimbanques“, while at the same time crying “il faut être absolument moderne.”




© Christophe Le Toquin

But I find Christophe’s microhistory evenly poetic. The sober and neat black & white representations have the feeling of a futurist poem. Sometimes the elements that he shows us are formally becoming letters of a new alphabet, the only one that is able to describe what is going on in the name of progress. In this new alphabet, the ode to progress becomes at the same time its subtle critique! The speaker of this new language knows that the commuter’s functional roundabout is a nightmare for the Tour de France cyclist; that trees whose only function is the decoration of the straightened Routes Nationales are too dusty to grow, that the prefabricated constructions in the SME-zonings have blind walls because they refuse to tell how they are contributing to Noyer’s future. Fortunately, in the very last picture, a very tempting aspect of the future is acknowledged as well. A tomato plant is blooming and blooming and its fruits are nearly  ready to taste! Nothing is forgotten.


© Christophe Le Toquin

Zines, by their very nature, are also said to be able to target a specific audience with whom it is possible to develop a tight and close interaction. And also this is definitely the case here. The series (regularly self-published over the last few years) is actually on tour since the beginning of 2017 meeting with its audience. There have already  been shows in Val de Loire and in Paris (Librairie Volume).  Next stop is Brussels in the photobook-treasury Hors Format. And the show is from June 14th till August 26th.



Looking very much forward to it, Mr. Le Toquin!