The Colour of Ash

 

This series is a narrative suspended between past and myth, a whisper that traverses time, turning it into flesh, scar, a trace that does not fade. Each Polaroid is a glimpse into memory, a flickering light that continues to shine even when everything else seems to dissolve. Invisible yet present, the images hold onto the echoes of what was and what could have been.

Plastic is a fragile yet impenetrable shield, a surface that separates and preserves—like a thin line dividing memory from the void of a lost recollection. Gold is not merely decoration; it is a tangible mark of fragility transformed into strength, an open wound laid bare. The images do not conceal pain—they reveal it. Each word is a call, each name an identity that refuses to vanish.

Time may wear things down, blur their contours, swallow the days whole. But it cannot silence the stories that still demand to be heard. The memory of these women, delicate yet unyielding, shines once more through gold and Polaroid—fragments of fragile, radiant existences that continue to live on in the gaze of those who observe.

 

Credits:

Hair Stylist & Mua: Antonio Porcelli
Models: Giulia Paltrinieri, Stefania Andarta De Piccoli, Serena, Elisabetta, Lisa, Giulia, Melissa, Matilde, 
Text: Nicoletta Cerasomma
 
 
 
 

My name shines in the history of Lucca.

Elisa Bonaparte Baciocchi emerges as a historical figure often overlooked, a woman of power relegated to a secondary role. The juxtaposition of her image with the postcard of the Ducal Palace of Lucca — symbol of her governance — establishes a bridge between past and present. The suspended Polaroid, enriched with glimmering symbols, renders the memory of her figure tangible: no longer a faded image, but a light rising from the scar of time. Every fragment — from gold to ornamentation — is not merely aesthetic, but a mark of restoration and revalorization, a reinterpretation of her role and impact, defying oblivion and restoring dignity to her legacy. ‘Elisa Baciocchi Bonaparte’

Stone preserves what time would seek to erase.

The face of Maria Luisa, enveloped in wax, reflects the corrosive effect of time on a figure whose story was bent under the weight of male power. The wax, acting as a seal, is both protection and condemnation — holding within it a silent pain that was never given voice. The postcard depicting her statue is a fragment of glory, a symbol that does not reveal the torment of a woman who gave the city more than she ever received in return. The recently uncovered letters unveil unknown facets of her life: an untold suffering that can now be rediscovered, casting light on a figure long overshadowed by history. "Maria Luisa di Borbone"

Echo of an immortal desire

The story of Lucida Mansi, steeped in power and vanity, is reflected in the gold that exalts her beauty, yet at the same time marks the scar of a dark fate. The Polaroid, suspended between light and shadow, becomes the stage of her tragic legend, where every golden gleam is the reflection of an insatiable yearning for youth, while the black gems hidden in the shadows evoke the damnation that followed. The gold is not mere ornament, but a trace engraved in time — a mark of a historical and personal wound that continues to throb within the myth. "Lucida Mansi"

From the ashes of the past, I created art

The Polaroid, marked by dust and wear, does not conceal Teresa’s fragility — it exalts it. The golden crack that runs across her face becomes a symbol of a journey that, though shaped by time, cannot be erased. Ash, symbol of dissolution, stands in stark contrast to the gold, which illuminates memory, breathing life back into what seemed lost. The golden scar does not hide Teresa’s beauty and strength, but gives them new form, transforming dissolution into an act of resistance. Memory is not erased — it is rewritten. “Teresa Bandettini”

Fragile yet incorruptible

The image of Ilaria del Carretto, caught between the reality of death and the legend of immortal beauty, becomes a reflection on the fragility of life and the incorruptibility of memory. The Polaroid captures the likeness of a woman who evokes the themes of motherhood and mortality: she died after giving birth, her death still veiled in mystery. The stains on the paper speak of time’s corrosion, but also of the persistence of remembrance. Ilaria, eternal in her funerary sculpture, is the symbol of a beauty both fragile and incorruptible — an absence that continues to become presence. Her image resists the passage of time, like the women who still today touch her statue, seeking in the marble the voice of her absence. “Ilaria del Carretto”

Humility

In this image, the crosses recall medieval iconography, while the golden semicircle evokes the Byzantine halo — a symbol of the divine light that illuminates the sanctity of Saint Zita, who lived each day with compassion, humility, and perseverance. In her simplest gestures, God revealed Himself to her. The tribute to Saint Gemma Galgani, who accepted the crown of thorns to share in Christ’s Passion, weaves a mystical dimension into the experience of suffering. Gemma’s crown of thorns seals a shared destiny: an eternal bond of pain, redemption, and love. “Zita and Gemma”

My voice is gold

The Polaroid, enriched with golden touches and shimmering details, creates a striking contrast between the fragility of the image and the solidity of memory. The postcard, bearing the echo of a distant past, invites us to delve into the story of a woman who left traces in silence. The gleaming accents become symbols of an unspoken path — a journey shaped by resilience and a quiet struggle against time’s tendency to forget. The layering of materials evokes the necessity of exploring the past to understand the present, and the hidden message calls us to rediscover what has been submerged.

My words are stars

The Polaroid, enriched by collages of female figures and silhouettes in black and gold, becomes an icon of a time that refuses to fade. Each layer of material stands as a symbol of resistance against invisibility, tracing the memory of a talent that defied the boundaries imposed by its era. Dancer, poetess, improviser — Teresa is the light of a time that sought to silence her. "Teresa Bandettini"

To bloom in silence

The portrait of Teresa Bandettini as a dancer encapsulates the duality of her existence: body and word, dance and poetry. Her career on stage was the first arena for a talent that would later pour into literature, becoming an unmistakable voice. The postcard and handwritten text add an epistolary dimension, creating an intimate dialogue with the past — a call back to the correspondence between Teresa and the intellectuals of her time. Small roses applied to the image and golden embellishments enrich the Polaroid with delicate, refined symbolism. The rose, a symbol of beauty and fragility, intertwines with Teresa’s story, evoking the poetic flowers — fleeting, improvised verses she created, ephemeral yet vividly alive. Teresa’s memory, like those blossoms, defies oblivion, preserved in gold, suspended between fragility and splendor. “Amarilli Etrusca”

Scent of what once was

The use of Polaroid, tied to the immediacy of the present, overlays with the historical iconography of 19th-century carte de visite, forging a contrast that heightens a sense of temporal suspension. The woman portrayed becomes an echo between myth and reality — a figure both persistent and elusive. Gold, applied not as ornament but as a luminous scar, accentuates the wound rather than concealing it. Memory is not denied, but redeemed, and gold, as a symbol of rebirth, expresses the unyielding resistance of a woman whose story has transcended the distortions of time. “The Phantasm of Garfagnana”

My profile is cursed only by those who fear me

The figure of the witch, so often hunted for her knowledge and power, emerges through a face etched with gold. This gold is not merely a symbol of sanctity, but a wound — carved by time into her very identity. The black-and-white landscape stands as a silent witness to her story, guiding us back to the places where she once lived — or perhaps alluding to exile, to distance, to isolation. The tulle, delicate and transparent, veils the past without erasing it, like a memory that endures, fragile yet untamed. “Pulisena”

Eternal as Sin

In this portrait, the woman becomes the emblem of an unresolved duality: the power of knowledge and the curse that followed in its wake. The golden gems — reminiscent of amulets and tears — whisper of fate and suffering, of an ancient wisdom long buried and denied. The blackness that engulfs part of the image is the darkness imposed by history, a shadow that conceals but cannot erase. The photograph, enriched by a newspaper clipping from 1929, summons an era when feminine thought was dismissed as superstition — an era now reclaimed through acts of resistance and redemption.

A Dream No One Can Capture

The intervention with gold leaf transforms the image into a sacred, fragmented icon, where gold is not merely aesthetic, but wound, absence, and revelation all at once. The erased face becomes a symbol of a denied identity, yet also one sanctified — as if the very act of removal were a gesture of reverence toward what has been lost. The postcard, itself a shard of memory, bridges past and community, roots and collective history. Magnetism becomes a metaphor for the oscillation between remembrance and oblivion — an invisible force binding absence to resistance. An altered Polaroid, a postcard, and a booklet merge into a fragile archive of forgotten identities, where gold illuminates the void, transforming memory into resilience. ‘Lost Icon’

Eternal and Invisible as the Wind

The dust that erodes the image serves as a metaphor for the slow, inexorable process by which female figures have been erased from historical memory. Yet the gold, boldly applied over the eyes, becomes a symbol of vision that endures — a gaze that resists the encroaching darkness. This photograph is not merely an object, but a code to be deciphered, where deterioration evokes the struggle for recognition and the defiance of those consigned to oblivion. The tension between visible and invisible compels the viewer to confront the void and presence that coexist within the image. ‘Ghost of Garfagnana’


Within the heart of Santa Caterina Church, the installation transforms the sacred space into an altar of memory. Fourteen black-and-white Polaroids, enclosed in transparent sleeves, hang from a golden thread that marks the entrance to the apse. Each image holds fragments of lives suspended in time.

The minimalist and intimate setup engages deeply with the historical and spiritual context of the church. The photographs, wrapped in delicate transparent casings, evoke a sense of fragility and transience. At the center of the apse, standing on a pedestal veiled in shadow, is the statue of the Madonna—a silent presence that watches and protects. An icon of love and compassion, her gaze embraces the suspended images, bearing witness to stories that find a voice within this sanctuary of memory. Here, the warmth of divine embrace contrasts with the fragile impermanence of human existence.

The transparent and glossy surfaces interact with the church’s light, creating a play of reflections and shadows. The light animates the images, making them ethereal, while the reflections invite the viewer to ponder what lies behind each face. Light becomes a symbol of hope and revelation, turning the observer’s gaze into an ever-evolving experience—one that mirrors the personal connection between memory and the stories told.

The golden thread stretches like an invisible and unbreakable bond, a reminder that each story belongs to a broader horizon. The images seem to float like souls suspended between the earthly and the spiritual. Their free and non-hierarchical arrangement suggests the equality of every life, beyond any historical or personal context. In the background, the frescoed wall, worn by time, becomes a witness itself, intertwining its own history with that of the images.