The office was always hectic, full of life and people moving from one place to another with papers, notebooks and juicy news of the latest scandal. The beautiful noise of typewriters never stopped, to the annoyance of the adjoining houses, the newspaper had to come out without delay. The smoke of cigarettes was often mixed with the smell of fresh ink, meat and tomato from the sandwiches of the shop downstairs, oregano from the pizzas from around the corner, and coffee, so much coffee we had more of it in our veins that actual blood.
But now there’s just silence, no typewriters, no more tasty smells to accompany the lonely nights, the smoke has vanished, the ink has dried. It all remains in silence.
I don’t know why but this photograph reminds me of Thomas Gainsborough’s paintings… Is it maybe because of the idyllic landscape?
On the other hand, I’m not very happy with the results of this photograph… I took it with a Kodak Vision 3 50D and even though it has an incredible exposure latitude, I think I didn’t take everything it has to offer out of it……. Maybe I’ll try again in a different setting.
My earliest memories are from this red house. I remember being there in the hot summer days, lazing around with nothing more to worry about than having fun and drink lemonade. We used to go to the lake to swim when the heat was unbearable. We would spend all day together and yet we wouldn’t get tired of each other. I remember the happiness of the first day in the Red House, sleeping with the sounds of the animals at night, the scent of the nature and the soft babbling of the nearby river. Every time I see this photograph I hear the calm of the house and the noises of the laughs.
From here you can hear the life of the house, the mumbled voices talking about the new gossip in town, the whistle of the tea pot and the graze of a pen writing on a piece of paper. Can you hear it?
*Zenit 11 and Kodak Vision 3 50D film
Desde aquí se puede oír la vida en la casa, las voces susurradas hablando del último cotilleo de la ciudad, el silbido de la tetera en el fuego y el rasgar de una pluma que escribe en un pedazo de papel. ¿Puedes oírlo?