Author: Ivan Dal Cin
In my grandmother's garden, I spent part of my childhood playing, climbing trees, and scrambling up the asbestos roofs of the sheds. In what is, in fact, my first photographic series, I've portrayed real 'object-books' placed in various points of that open space that correspond to vivid memories. These 'volumes' had a precisely plastic value, with dimensions comparable to other objects to be replaced, and subject to gravity like anything else. It didn't matter what was written inside; their reality was primarily perceptual and compositional. Many years later, someone told me that 'books make architecture'.
