In a Nutshell: What Inspired Me to Become a Photographer

During yet another cold winter evening, nothing worth watching on the only black and white television channel available in those days, my maternal grandparents would fill the wooden oven with chestnuts and, while waiting for them to roast, they would pull out the photos. This humble photographic archive of their sub-proletarian, pre-industrial life in the wild swamps of southern Tuscany, Maremma, was kept in a battered shoebox, tied up with rope. We would spread the photos on the ancient marble ...