ENGLISH (ORIGINAL) VERSION

What is Exposed, What is Exhibited: A conversation with Ceci Fabricio about his work

Translation by Rebeca Sanz

 Social reality. Not justice, nor freedom nor equality, nor any other relative term that demands clear criteria to truly lend itself as a subject, beyond easy rallying cries. There are, therefore, those who address the matter without idealistic appeals.

Unlike approaches that prioritize technical or aesthetic sophistication, the work of Ceci Fabrizio is characterized by a direct composition, of high contrast and with an almost stamp-like or snapshot quality, all to expose as frankly as possible the energy released by the elemental confrontation between the individual and the environment: objectivity vs. subjectivity. His images arise from tense encounters, on the threshold that gives way to a spontaneity that betrays even the regular arrangement of its elements. This method privileges authenticity and emotional expressiveness without pathos, over the meticulous study of framing.

The proposal contravenes the usual conception of capture as the arresting of an instant, to instead exhibit the phenomenon that is the object of attention in its full course; that is to say, in some way, alive. Black and white emphasize the texture of internal wear, as well as the erosion provoked by every significant experience, in its most insignificant details, so that it ultimately documents the violent subject-society interaction as object-environment.

From among his work, he welcomes us, generous, and frank as he himself is.

In your work, the distinction between reality and truth is clear; in fact, it is perhaps the latter that is transmitted.

I like to think that watch is transmitted is an “emotional truth.”

A truth that  is internal, lived, some times unspeakable.

An image may lie about the facts, yet tell the truth about a state of mind.

The avenues for such a purpose are not few… Why through photography and not another art form?

I didn’t choose photography because it was the most effective way to say something to others, but because it was the only one that allowed me to remain faithful to an introverted way of feeling: staying one step back, observing for a long time, and speaking only when the image is ready to do so in my place.

One would have to step back a bit, then… How did you relate to this expressive form?

The aim was to create a space of mediation between myself and reality, not merely a tool, but some sort of safe distance.

I look through a lens in order to see more clearly, so I don’t get overwhelmed.

The camera becomes an emotional filter, a way of inhabiting things without directly interacting with them.

Would it be fitting, then, to speak of stories or, rather, of scenes around which time revolves…?

These are not events in motion, but fixed points: knots, images, minimal gestures that time continues to brush against without ever fully wearing them away.

I like to think that to fix time does not mean to stop it, but to make it visible.

A hand about to knock, an unspoken sentence, a glass suspended mid-air.

The narrative lives in the moment just before, or immediately after.

What of this element in your work; that is, the treatment of time through a narrative?

For me stories or rather, scenes, are knots where time slows down, accumulates, and repeats itself.

I don’t narrate what happens, I simple allow these knots to be visibile.

In my work, narrative does not emerge as plot, but as an act of attention.

A scene comes into being when something asks to be looked at longer than necessary.

It’s there that time ceases to be chronology and becomes experience: a before and an after coexisting within the same instant.

The choice of a palette implies a series of principles; let alone black and white photography. Why this form of contrast?

Black and white does not describe, it asserts.

It forces a choice about where light falls and where shadow begins.

In this sense it’s inherently dramatic, because it always arises from an irreducible tension: presence/absence, visible/invisible, spoken/unspoken.

There is also a temporal dimension: black and white suspends the image in an unidentifiable time.

It is neither past nor present, it is an emotional duration.

This produces a sense of drama because it makes the image less reassuring, less locatable, more exposed.

Situations, actions, events… to what extent do you plan your work with the camera?

When I work with the camera, I think in terms of situations rather than events.

An event is noisy and concluded; while a situation is open and inhabitable.

Actions emerge from there, often minimal, sometimes almost invisible.

My task is to recognize when a situation becomes dense, when space begins to hold time.

How do you choose which material to work with on each occasion?

he choice of material is always subordinate to the situation I expect to encounter.

I do not seek versatility, but rather coherence.

I always use tools that impose limits, because limitation produces attention.

Every tool  carries a temporal weight: some record, others incise.

I always choose materials that  don’t accelerate, and that don’t turn things into spectacle.

In the end, the materials really reflected my own persona.

Womens… Why?

Mostly for  curiosity, not as an external gaze, but as an attraction toward something that does not reveal itself immediately, that demands attention, listening, waiting.

Because often multiple times coexist within them: what is happening, what has happened, what could happen, all within the same gesture.

Because their world is made of pauses, care, and seemingly minimal details in which time can nests.

And to what extent do they represent much more than what we assume of them, that is, their sensuality, intensity, fragility, power?

What is attribuited to women is often what serves the viewer’s gaze, not what structures their experience.

Sensuality is read as a visible quality, but in reality it’s  often a relation to time: waiting, rhythm, presence.

Intensity is usually mistaken for emotion, when in my opinion is concentration, an ability to remain in the same state for a long time without needing to resolve it.

Fragility may be interpreted as lack, whereas it’s permeability: a form of strength that absorbs, holds, transforms.

Finally Power is continuity: holding together what tends to disperse, such as relationships, memories, bodies, and everyday life.

To what extent do they represent, for you, significant subjects beyond their corporeality?

Beyond the body, what makes women fully significant subjects is not what they show, but what they hold, process, and transform…