1963 by Piero Moschi
Firenze, Piero A. Boni Editore
Black and white photography sets light and texture alight and here we have two alongside in a glorious juxtaposition of surface; the brilliance of the perfectly still reflective waters lying on the softly worn surface of smooth stone. So different are the surfaces, the lines that divide them appear concrete; it is hard to imagine that with one disturbance the image would change. The clarity of detail in the photograph is sumptuous: the wearings, cracks and indents of the stone continue far into the distance, the soft and hardened tread of thousands of years. The iconic spire of the tower of Palazzo Vecchio is unmistakable, exposed through the mirroring zig-zag of the puddle. The impressiveness of the shape has the magnanimity of Doris Salcedo’s Shibboleth – a crack in the floor, an entrance to another world – given through this distinctive jagged edge. However, Moschi’s crack exposes the old architectural beauty of Florence, playing, as those in the fourteenth-century did, with our sense of perspective. The tower is upside-down yet, if we flip the image so the spire stands upright, the stones’ perspective is unsettlingly reversed. Either way, light and shadow conjure the beauty of Florence – the age of worn stone with the timeless line of architecture.