San Marco’s mosaics, the bridges connecting the calli and the marble statues inside the palaces overlooking the Grand Canal are now underwater. French photographer Julien Mauve takes us to discover a future where Venice has sunk.
“The Miracle II“, this is the title of the series dedicated to the Serenissima, is the second chapter of a larger project focused on the effects of climate change and environmental damage caused by man. The first part published two years ago was shot in the Gulf of Naples, with the aim of focusing attention on the uncontrolled development of urbanization in risky areas around Mount Vesuvius.
With this second chapter, the French photographer wanted to focus on the rising sea level and a problem related to it and discussed for some time, the disappearance of Venice. Julien Mauve, however, does not address the issue by photographing what may be the visible effects today, but by imagining the city already submerged.
In “The Miracle II” there is nothing more to do, no solution to adopt, no technological mechanism to activate to avoid the worst, because the worst has already happened and everyone knows it.
What is most surprising about the shots is the calm and silence that reigns everywhere. People have long abandoned the city, leaving undisturbed the sea to rise and submerge everything in a slow, almost poetic way.
The movement of the water is so calm that its color is not turbid but clear, so much so that it is possible to distinguish some elements such as the steps of a bridge, the face of a statue, the door of a house.
“Venice is turning into a relic, as if the flood is purifying everything: the water is Holy Water, it does not leave putrid debris or mud, instead it generates images at times not very sharp through buildings deliberately portrayed out of focus at the moment of the flood, creating, with paradoxical magic, a new serene, dreamlike and mysterious landscape.” – Viviana Gatica, art curator
What is totally missing in Julien Mauve’s photographs is the panic that such an event should provoke: perhaps because there is no one left to see it, or perhaps because the deafening fear has given way to a mute resignation.
