On the second floor of the ancient Venetian palazzina, in a corner of Campo Santo Stefano in the sestiere of San Marco, there is a room of its own. Just over eight square meters to which is entrusted the telling of another story.
Miss T.V.’s room (Miss T.V.’s room) is an intimate place where Massimiliano Camellini negotiates the emotional dominance of astonishment with the lucidity of a gaze aware of the documentary role entrusted to the photographic medium.
For Margherita (a.k.a. Titti) Vitalba, her father designed and had the bedroom furniture made, just as if it were the cabin of a ship.
The attention to detail, on which Camellini lingers in pointing the lens, is that loving caress of a father toward his beloved daughter. The retro flavor becomes, then, a device of memory that seeks and finds connections between the past and the present.
If the black and white of the photographic images absorbs the hues of the floral fabric and lamp holders, it nevertheless brings out other details such as the brilliance of the old porcelain electrical switches. Even the mirror reflects the hypothesis of the future captured by the hic et nunc, always leaving ample room for imagination. The TV initials are repeated in the wood, along with the iconographic motif of the daisy of the first name and the white vine of the last name.
The journey continues in space and time, lulled by the sonority of the rippling waters of the lagoon and the open sea of imagination.
Manuela De Leonardis
