Marco Fiora was only seven years old when he was forcibly led into a car in a Turin suburb one winter morning in 1987. From there he made his way to the rough and steep mountains of Aspromonte in Calabria. They had to endure 519 days of hell before the young man was released, but not before his parents, owners of a garage and a bakery, had to pay millions of dollars in ransom. Police found him in a forest guard's hut with the same shirt he wore on the day of his abduction, torn and dirty. So weak he couldn't walk. His left arm was scarred by the chains his captors used to hold him. It was the longest and most painful child abduction in Italy. One of many committed by the 'Ndrangheta, the most powerful criminal organization in Europe. Kidnappings that form the basis of Guilty Grounds, the latest project by Steffi Reimers (Netherlands, 1995).
Over several months, the Dutch photographer intermittently traveled to the mountain range of Calabria in search of remote landscapes, silent witnesses to the mafia's secret activities, where 654 kidnappings were carried out between 1972 and 2012. The longest time was 831 days. There were 28 abducted people who were found dead and 50 of them were never heard from again. The number of kidnappings in Italy has fallen dramatically in recent years. However, fear survives and manifests itself in many ways; There are few who dare to break the Omertá, the law of silence. The criminal organization's activities remain active and maintain a monopoly on the wholesale drug trade in Europe. Last November, 200 defendants were sentenced in Italy to a total of more than 2,200 years in prison for their ties to the 'Ndrangheta in one of the largest mafia trials in decades.
Between 1972 and 2012, 654 kidnappings were carried out in Calabria. The longest time was 831 days. There were 28 abducted people who were found dead and 50 of them were never heard from again.
Guilty Grounds offers a critical reflection on the impact of crime on society and the landscape with an approach that sits between fiction and reality. It can be seen in its exhibition format at the Foam Museum in Amsterdam. The publication is divided into three parts: two of them are based on historical material, press clippings on various kidnappings, which are presented together with archive portraits of convicted victims and perpetrators and a series of photographs in white and black on the subject of the investigation and rescue work.
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In between, a disturbing color tour through quiet places, dark tunnels and run-down bunkers, intended to recreate the oppressive atmosphere that surrounded six specific cases. Dark places where the shooting that ended the life of Carmine Tripodi, commander of the Carabinieri Corps in San Luca, who, in his desire for justice after risky investigations, was attacked and shot on his way back home, still seems to linger . Through the use of cold forensic lights, the author manages to reveal evidence that otherwise could not be perceived by the naked eye, leading the viewer down nightmarish paths and disturbing beauty, imbued with the smell of oregano, an aroma created by teenager Pierangelo Bolis He could tell the difference and wore a hood during the twenty days his captivity lasted.
The photographer eschews the human figure and instead focuses on the territory as a silent witness to a series of crimes
Reimers alludes to the landscape's ability to preserve memories. The traces left by passers-by make it possible to still relive their presence thirty or forty years later. Therefore, the photographer eschews the human figure and instead focuses on the territory as a silent witness to a series of crimes. A landscape that is, in a sense, guilty of harboring criminals in its dull geography. Nevertheless, the author's intention is not to find out the truth about what happened in these inhospitable environments, but rather to arouse different sensations in the reader so that he can imagine for himself what happened there – or did not happen, and in keeping life alive remembering facts that should not be forgotten, denied or silenced. In short, a bold story that flows nimbly through paths of raw beauty, history and morality.
The book is presented in a box showing the image of a virgin: La Madona di Polsi, also known as the Virgin of the Mountain. Every September 2, the leaders of the 'Ndrangheta go to their shrine to hold a meeting where hierarchies are agreed upon, alliances sealed, and wars declared. A perverse devotion aimed at protecting and uniting the family nucleus and rebuilding it through terrible revenge.
In Ciudad Juárez, 3,951 murders were recorded in 2010; at a rate of more than ten a day, in a city of 1.3 million people dominated by drug cartels
In 2010, Ciudad Juárez, Mexico became the most violent city in the world when 3,951 murders were recorded that year alone; at a rate of more than 10 a day in a city of 1.3 million people dominated by drug cartels. Homicides that were regularly reported in the national press, especially in the newspapers with red posters that sensationalized death and both entertained and frightened the population through morbidity. This period of extreme violence, which spread across the country and lasted until 2016, is the subject of The Portrait of Your Absence, the latest photography book by Alejandro Luperca Morales. A project that was forged back when the author lived in the Mexican city, where it was common to observe scenes of violence in the middle of the street and in daylight.
“They torture him and kill him, but they leave him his cell phone,” from the book “The Portrait of Your Absence.” Alejandro “Luperca” Morales
Inspired by Jean Baudrillard's essay “The Transparency of Evil” and disturbed by the grotesque sensationalism of the crime press, which usually presents not only sexual content but also the most brutal events, the author began to collect clippings from the sensational evening newspaper PM, which contained more than 500 Photos showed bodies of the victims of these murders. Images that the photographer selects, scans, enlarges and crops and later manually disappears the corpses with an eraser to allow for critical reflection.
The author takes up the vocabulary of horror or “narcoñol,” a term coined by anthropologist Rossana Reguillo to refer to the jargon used to describe organized crime.
A way to counteract the indifference towards evil and its trivialization by normalizing this type of content, consumed episodically and amnesically. “This morning they found a stiff man”, “There was no point in running”, “They took out his brains” or “They are liquidating brothers” are some of the headlines that accompanied the pictures in the newspaper and that the author wrote as used title. of the new versions that reflect the vocabulary of horror or narcoñol, a term coined by the anthropologist Rossana Reguillo to refer to the jargon used to talk about organized crime.
The publication begins with an index of images arranged by title and dispenses with any text, leaving the reader standing in this free space – where, in turn, the text printed on the back of the newspaper is transparent and invites different readings. A pause that the photographer offers the viewer to question why these types of images no longer surprise them and to consider the level of strangeness of what we experience in our society. An empty space that aims to restore the dignity of the protagonist of the photo, regardless of the moral judgment he deserves, while reminding us of the power of our imagination in advancing the machinations of evil.
Only on the last page do we find the image of a corpse, the same one that forms the lenticular cover of the book and plays with the confusing effect of the images. The photographer goes one step further and preserves the remains of the erasure like ashes, giving this death a more intimate character and an opportunity for mourning. Some remains will be presented in the form of an urn in the project's exhibition format.
“Reasons for guilt.” Steffi Reimers'. Exhibition in the foam museum. Amsterdam. Until March 3rd.
“Reasons for guilt.” Steffi Reimers'. Self-published. 18 pages, 59 euros.
“The Portrait of Your Absence”. Alejandro “Luperca” Morales. Cult books / The Submersed. 112 pages. 39 euros.
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