The historical Italian photography magazine “Progresso Fotografico”, founded in 1894, just published a gallery of my images and a short essay.
My essay was originally written in English, but my translation into Italian was the published one.
Therefore, I decided to publish here the original English text of my article ∕ manifesto for any English-speaking readers who might be interested in it.
Giovanni Savino, after a long professional career in the USA, returned to Italy to rediscover and savor the pleasantness, but also the contradictions of the Italian countryside.
We have just published an article by Giovanni on Classic Camera B&W entitled 'the secret of photography' and dedicated to the charm of shooting with a pneumatic shutter that allows you to overcome the standard time limit 1/100s, 1/250s... and to choose when to interrupt the exposure based on the sensations felt at the moment of shooting.
Here we publish several portraits of his accompanied by his text that allows us to understand how Giovanni conceives photography.
The most important technique I use in all my photo shoots is called relationship building. Over thirty years of incessant travel around the world working for Network News brought me back to my original passion: portraiture. Of course, I can work digitally, but my favorite tools are large format film cameras.
I use these cameras and lenses from a bygone era to create a specific look. Hand-developing in my darkroom allows me to deliver high-resolution digital scans to clients extremely quickly.
A “Renaissance” education in Italy and many years of experience in the studio and in the field all over the world, have helped me to easily connect with all kinds of people and allow me to translate the most diverse briefs, stylistic and editorial ideas into an accurate and unique interpretation of my clients' vision.
The Last Photographer
Where everyone wants to be first, I like to be last.
Why the last one, I hear you ask?
Anyone who knows me or sees me working might think that I define myself as "the last" being certainly one of the last to use ancient techniques and age-old cameras.
Among other things, my "modus operandi" in creating images is not very orthodox and almost never scientific: if anything, it is guided by the intrinsic poetry that I find in what I observe and by the tactile simplicity of my wooden machines.
Furthermore, in my photography, I try to stick to an operational humility learned from a young age, always with little money in my pocket, which still makes me careful to avoid waste, the useless, the superfluous, even when I create images for distinguished customers.
But firstly, I am tired of that sterile, counterproductive and pathetic competition that has always existed in the world of photography and art, summarized by the famous composer Bela Bartok in his phrase "competition is for horses, not for artists".
I have now chosen not to participate in the silly competition of the best, the smartest, the most famous, the richest, the number one. A self-proclamation as “the last” gives me carte blanche in all my successes and failures, allowing me to distill, in silence, unique and precious teachings from both.
I say of myself "the last" also to be honest: I don't want to create false and distorted expectations in those who ask me for tailored results. By now I take photographs not only to satisfy a clientele, but above all to celebrate the mystery of the universe, for the joy of observing the world around me, for the privilege of being able to tell it to anyone who wants and knows how to read it through an image of mine.
At this point in life, after a long and decent career, I realize that being the first, being "the best" is always a deceptive and ephemeral concept.
There are very few really important photographs in a photographer's life.
I believe that those few images are a phenomenon not completely human, but largely supernatural: the image I yearn to see revealed in the red light of the darkroom does not depend on an illustrious curriculum vitae or on the prestigious awards received, but from a humble, courageous daily practice.
The artist must always seek new alchemical possibilities to interpret indefinable energies through his work, in order to be amazed by the often-unexpected result of which he is only partially the material performer.