When in Rome - see Franco Fontana

Go to the Museum dell'Ara Pacis

A few years ago, I went to Modena. Osteria Franciscana was the #1 restaurant in the world. Chef Massimo Bottura was holding court. But this is not why I was in Modena. I went to see Franco Fontana. Two concurrent exhibitions across three venues showed colour photography at its best. The city of Modena was finally giving their famous son a retrospective.

Franco Fontana: Mare del Nord, 1976

By way of background, I first got to know Fontana’s photographs from books. He has made a lot of books, more than 65, so far. Then a few years ago, I bought a Polaroid by him, which I proudly framed. And more recently, I added a second photograph. The photograph used to belong to the photographer Sam Haskins. Haskins and Fontana had made a trade many years ago. This was, and I believe still is, a common practice among established photographers. No money changes hands and each gets to pick the photograph they send to the other. You may recall my writing about Paul Hoeffler. He had a box of photographs by various photographers that he had traded prints with. In Frank Horvat’s studio basement in Paris, the walls are covered in prints by his contemporaries. But, I digress….

This particular Fontana photograph is perhaps his most famous. The photograph is from Basilicata in south Italy. The photograph - shown below – is an assembly of planes of colour, made from the various crops in their respective fields, which roll across the photograph. Each colour band changes width across the image. The photograph has no horizon, and aside from the tree, which could be large, or small, there is no indication of scale. It is a wonderful colour composition. It works. This is a photograph of colour, not in colour. This is pure Fontana.

Franco Fontana: Basilicata, 1978

I knew Fontana still lived in Modena and through a contact of mine, I managed to connect with his daughter. She speaks English. Franco speaks a few words only, but between gestures and smiles, he more than makes up for it.

We agreed to meet at Modena’s train station, from where we drove to the leafy suburbs, to the house where Fontana has lived for more than 50 years. On the front step of a house filled with whimsical art objects, but few photographs, I finally meet the great man. After shaking hands and exchanging elaborate hand gestures, I was led into the classic, huge Italian kitchen with the long table with many, many chairs. I was introduced to Franco’s wife Uti, and we all sat down for coffee and lovely pastries.

Franco Fontana: Frammento 1972

Franco asked if I was a photographer? I answered yes, somewhat cautiously, not expecting a quiz…. He then asked how I make photographs. As I was formulating my answer, he quickly spoke to his daughter for what seemed like a long time, in rapid-fire Italian. She proceeded to say: “My dad says you don’t make photographs with a camera, you make photographs with your mind. We live in a world in colour. You must re-invent it, so the colour becomes the subject. It is not a recording.”

Between cups of coffee and pastries, Fontana went on to explain that the colour photographer has to turn the colour of the everyday into the subject itself. To a photographer like me, who automatically sees the world in light and shadow, in black and white with shades of grey, this is profound. Fontana does not look for a particular composition of everyday life, as I do in black and white, he looks for planes of colour and turns the colour that he sees into the subject of the photograph, not actually setting out to record anything but the colour itself. The colour is the subject of his photograph. It is a different way of seeing.

Franco Fontana: Frammento 1981

Mr. Fontana proceeded to bring out several of his books, and a bottle of wine. Together we looked at a variety of work that was part commissions by companies, regions and foundations, but also some of his personal work. He explained that in Italy there is a tradition among photographers that you make books, not prints. I think it is a little like Japan that way. As a way of directly, or indirectly supporting local photographers, or nationally famous photographers, the commissioning of books is very common. Corporations make books about themselves, or their area. Italian regions make books. Italian cities make books. I assume these are mostly used for gifts. I have looked in bookstores for various titles, but always seem to only find them in second hand bookshops. I suspect a visitor, or client dropped them off, rather than leaving them in the hotel room, or lugging them home in their suitcase. I have picked up a few Fontana titles this way. I actually picked one up in a hotel lobby once. It was just sitting there with the guide-books and paperbacks left behind by hotel guests.

Franco Fontana: Venice, LA, 1990

The highlight of the visit, which still puts a broad smile on my face, was when suddenly Mrs. Fontana, who had otherwise not said a word, other than bon journo, suddenly started to giggle. She said something to her daughter….. After a minute or two, the daughter looked at me and in a flat, deadpan voice said: ‘My mom says that she was asked by Helmut Newton to be photographed in the nude when she was young and beautiful.’ The remark came out of the blue, and I did not know how to respond. I smiled and was about to open my mouth, when Mrs. Fontana again spoke in rapid Italian and looked at her daughter and then looked at me, implying that she should translate verbatim. Their daughter looked at me and again in a flat tone said: ‘….. but Franco wouldn’t let me pose’. Franco Fontana went three shades of red and then there was a long and mostly loving exchange between the couple in Italian with much gesturing and laughter, which I never quite did get translated, but think I understood. What will remain in my mind was the calm with which their daughter looked at me throughout the exchange.

Franco Fontana: Puglia, 1978

After a few minutes and another small glass of wine, Franco made a big gesture with both his hands, gave me a hug and offered me a book, which he signed and made out to “My new friend, Søren”. We worked a little on whether the slash through the ‘o’ was from right-to-left or left-to-right - my gift that just keeps on giving - but we got there in the end. We said our goodbyes and I was driven back to town to see the two exhibitions of Fontana’s work.

The shows of course were wonderful. In the second room of the second exhibition was a collection of maybe 80 photographs that Franco Fontana had received from other photographers in exchange for his work over a long career. Of particular interest to me was the Sam Haskins photograph. More than likely, this was the photograph Fontana received in exchange for the one that I now have. What a fantastic way to end a great day in Modena.

Franco Fontana deserves all the credit for having done something exceptional with colour photography. Back in 1978 his first book called ‘Skyline’ was published, soon to be followed the same year by Luigi Ghirri’s ‘Kodachrome’. Two completely different books, but both would have a significant impact on the future of colour photography. And take a minute to remember that all the work these two photographers did was without the aid of post-production sofware. It did not exist. Remarkable.

As an aside, Franco Fontana and Luigi Ghirri, another key Italian photographer and writer on photography, grew up near one-another in Modena. Ghirri took a very contemporary and cerebral view of the possibilities of colour photography, and wrote extensively about his own work and photography in general. Ghirri’s ‘Kodachrome’ was thankfully reissued by MACK in 2013, and his writings; ‘Luigi Ghirri: The Complete Essays 1973-1991’ should both be on your bookshelf! As should ‘Skyline’ by Franco Fontana, if you can find a copy. Sadly, Ghirri passed away too early from a heart attack, aged only 49, but Franco Fontana is still going strong at 91.

If you can get to Rome before August 31^st, please take in the Franco Fontana show and visit the Augustus Peace Alter at the same time. It is a show that you will be thinking and talking about for a long time.

Soren Harbel: Ara Pacis Augustae

The venue is spectacular. The Ara Pacis – the Augustan Peace Alter was erected at the order of the Roman Senate – and was consecrated on January 30, 9 BCE. It is housed within a purpose-built structure designed by Richard Meier, located along the bank of the Tiber River, separated only by a too busy road. In the otherwise ancient city of Rome there are few modern structures and if you get anywhere near the Museum dell’Ara Pacis, you cannot miss it. It is signature Meier…, all white, all the time, with a lot of right angles. Personally, I think it is a very successful building, but there are a lot of naysayers. Let’s leave that for another day…

One of the benefits of the quite substantial Meier building is that the entire lower level was designed for temporary exhibitions (the entire ground level houses the Ara Pacis). I saw Koudelka’s large panoramic photographs at the museum a couple of years ago. It was a great show and it is a great space. This is where you will find the career retrospective of the work of Franco Fontana. Finally, Fontana at the age of 91, is recognized by the Italian state as a national treasure. Well done Italy, and well done Franco Fontana.

[A quick visitors’ note: Be careful when you buy tickets at the main door, you get a ticket for the Augustus Peace Alter, but not the exhibition below. You have to go to a different door along the side of the building and get tickets there, or at least that was the case when I visited last.]

Until next time…..