Photographer Magazine (2001)
Revisiting my old texts, I try to identify the coherent thread that defines my enduring personal views. Over time, personal views acquire something of the monolithic quality of memories. Just as our past condenses into a few stories and several photographs, so too do our personal views become entrenched and fortified through repetition and ongoing refinement, ultimately leading each person to believe and articulate only a few (and the same) things. This is not necessarily bad, as it helps shape systems of philosophy, politics, human behavior, and on the other hand, through persistent repetition, they hold the hope of being heard and spread.
However, the risk of such an evolution is dual and concerns both those who express the views and those who receive them. The former risk dogmatism, which may result from familiarizing with their own ideas, and from the possible inability to admit their mistakes or to make necessary corrections. The latter risk limiting the views of the former and trapping them (either because they do not understand them or because it suits them) into a label or caricature. The opposite approach, namely, the nebulous expression of flexible views combined with superficial busy-ness, facilitates public relations, allows for opportunistic inclusion, ensures the possibility of alliances, backtracking, and chameleon-like behavior, but does not promote science, art, and critical thinking.
From the moment I engaged with photography and teaching it, I tried to develop a system of views through a consistent approach. It was fortunate that the continuous questions from my students forced and continue to force me to reassess my positions constantly. I also had the audacity to expose myself through the writing of theoretical books to the critique of my students and others, something I earnestly wish every teacher who believes in anything would do, because written text allows for the cultivation of discourse and counter-discourse.
Over the years, I confirmed all the above risks, whether they concerned me or others. I felt above all that it was difficult for me to detach from certain aesthetic and theoretical perceptions, given that these are linked to broader life stances, upbringing, education, and character. This made me more tolerant of opposing views, recognizing that it was impossible for me to adopt them for reasons that went beyond logical argumentation. On the other hand, it added a dimension of deeper selective affinity to my relationship with those who embrace the same analyses and approaches. After all, in every era, a teacher, or indeed anyone who conveys views, has the responsibility to direct their efforts towards what they consider more dangerous and to try to balance tendencies that seem negative to them. In this effort, it is logical, without demonizing any opposing view, to attribute special value and to surround with gratitude any view that aligns with their own.
I also found that the nuances with which views are expressed are almost as important as the views themselves. Age made me more absolute at the roots of my perceptions and somewhat more flexible at their fringes. As much as I sensed the validity of my views, the more I realized that their expression could be more relaxed.
Finally, I accepted areas and aspects of my views for which I could not convincingly invoke arguments, but which nonetheless remained intuitively unshakeable, while I understood that a system of views gains if it accommodates flexible, unaffiliated, and even contradictory parts.
If I had to articulate some general principles (values, concepts, dimensions, difficult to name) that expressed and continue to express my stance towards art (and of course photography), I can note the following without fear of contradicting myself.
Art is too important to be confined to the concept of profession, speculation, social projection, political alignment, or casual entertainment.
Photography is something very special in its essence and easy in its execution to be left as a mere tool for achieving other goals, rather than helping it to leverage its ease to preserve its uniqueness.
The artist is a vulnerable and sensitive individual who can only be supported by love, admiration, and respect for their art. Anything else taking a leading role risks distracting them.
Art constitutes a whole throughout the centuries. There is no old or new. There is no innovation that does not arise from tradition. In art, nothing ends and nothing begins. Everything revolves.
Among other things, the dangers of our times include advertising, lifestyle, ethnocentrism, confusion of values, and hierarchies. Art, among other things, is needed to resist these, not to serve them. The privileged, if not exclusive, realm of art is that of abstraction, transcendence, implication, and dream. When these are served, the desired resistance automatically arises.
The artist, a dominant force in artistic creation, should not be trapped and abandoned in the embrace of the world of art and its various contributors.
The above general principles have never left my mind. The various shades and variations of them not only do not negate them but are an essential element of my personal views.
Plato Rivellis