It is the story of an act of unconditional (photographic) love. Between the 1970s and 1980s the legendary Kodak colour positive film, for many photography enthusiasts, represented one of the key steps in taking care of their passion.

Obtaining colour prints yourself was still complex and expensive. Although the poetics instilled by the b&w images were not discussed, we were a little bored of the slow rituals of the development and printing processes; so, we wanted to get out of the monochrome of the darkroom.

And suddenly a world of colours appeared to us (in Technicolor as the film credits showed), savouring the exciting taste of contrast: of things, of landscapes. A satisfaction for the photographic gaze that we were unable to grasp in other ways.

Rich, saturated colours with strong tones. The opposite of the “pictorialist” intent of the pastel-hued world that the elderly, willing and adamant photographers wanted to convince us with.

From that moment on, colour became history within the image, beyond the subject. Eager for those results, I remember quickly accumulating a few boxes of clipped and framed slides, which I admired in front of a light bulb, before I could buy a projector.

The fact that after the shot and the development of the negative to see the photograph exaggeratedly enlarged and with its changing colors one no longer had to go through the darkroom was a sudden wonder within reach.