Giuseppe Cavalli

Titolo da fare
Giuseppe Cavalli
Marco
Delogu
At a time when the debate on the relationship between art and photography is at its liveliest, and there is much
discussion about the borders that separate them, it is important to talk about Giuseppe Cavalli, since this will help
us to realize that these problematics were dealt with and partially resolved, or rather made redundant, several years
ago.
Giuseppe Cavalli lived through the great tragedies of Italian twentieth-century history, namely the First and
Second World Wars and Fascism. He emerged with an artistic autonomy by concentrating on and relentlessly pursuing
the subjects most important to him: landscapes, still lifes, portraits. His photographs were often deliberately
timeless, and characterized by a precise, clear-cut language.
He was an artist with distant roots, and one who was mindful of art history (the references to Chardin made by
Angela Madesani in her contribution to this catalogue are most interesting) and modernity, and above all a unique
photographer with his own universe. Last summer I visited a major Cézanne retrospective in Aix-en-Provence and,
at a certain point, I was reminded of Cavalli by the unusual balance between microhistory and macrohistory,
between landscapes, portraits and still lifes and between the place where an artist chooses to live and his artistic production.
I think Cavalli’s approach to photography was innovative and that he resolved – before the mid twentieth century
– the problem of ‘seizing the moment’. That ‘crucial moment’ that has, in some respects, represented a milestone
in the history of photography, and which in Cavalli has a completely different dimension, where the focus is
on waiting and on the constant stimuli generated by vision.
When I was working a lot with Graciela Iturbide, I frequently heard Manuel Alvarez Bravo’s name mentioned
and saw his photos. I was often surprised by the many similarities in the images and subjects of Cavalli and Bravo,
two eminent artists who were almost contemporaries. Each with his own personal history, formed in a different country.
Both were photographers who analyzed things in depth, creating individual worlds where they awaited images
that both came from within and appeared before their eyes.
I think that as with all great photographers of the twentieth century, viewing and studying Giuseppe Cavalli’s
photography reveals the influence of various painters and photographers (Morandi’s and Monachesi’s still lifes, as
well as those of Josef Sudek) and also writers, and particularly to that large group of literary ‘irregulars’ linked neither
to Neorealism nor social commitment. His was a cultivated art through which he constructed a very individual
universe, but which was always reminiscent of other visions, other worlds. Nevertheless, what continues to fascinate
me most about his work is the image of a Giuseppe Cavalli who lived through half a century without answers and
certainties, only his extremely refined, sober elegance.
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