For most of my career, I have photographed systems — energy corridors, militarised economies, extractive frontiers. Projects like Sinomocene, Critical Minerals – Geography of Energy, asked how to render vast, evasive mechanisms visible. I learnt to braid images with maps and research, to cross geographies, to hold a disciplined distance so the work stayed legible. That craft has weight — but it also became a habit, a way to keep myself far from what hurts.

Genea Illogica is a decision to turn inward — not in ambition, but in orientation. It began with a personal dislocation: becoming a father as a relationship unravelled, and the slow need to find roots where there were none. Marcel Proust once compared the soul to a dark forest, its branches intertwined with genealogical trees — a place of memory, emotion, and inheritance.

In these woods of San Vi’, between mist and silence, I began to understand that metaphor.

“Siamo arrivati alla panchina e ci siamo seduti lì.

C’era davvero molta luce.

E ho pensato alle mie tante commozioni di questi mesi stando seduto qui,

a questa enorme stanza con i muri di siepe,

alle piccole, tremule foglie di aprile, ora verdi-dorate,

consunte, seccate dal vento, dal sole, macerate dalla pioggia.

Così pensavo e non mi sentivo infelice.”

This project is personal — made for a friend, with a friend who became important in my life.

A dialogue between ancestry and present, between loss and growth — between what is given, and what we choose to become.

Edition:

Artist book of 186 numbered copies and 3 portfolio sets of 22 platinum prints (20×25 cm).