Close-up, intimate views of the clothed human body. Nooks and crannies of the house that look like careless fragments in their everyday colours. Ripetitive patterns of anonymous, looming blocks of flats in the city. Whatever our lifestyle, the people who live with us and are familiar to us, the well worn, worthless household moments, and the generic extrernal environment that witnesses our daily hustle and bustle are all facts that are by now part of our very being: they no longer exist as autonomous figures but prevalently as background noise, as an impalpable visual fabric that mingles, in the continuity of experience, with the existential fabric of which we are made. Marina Ballo Charmet has been working for years precisely on that faint limit between what may be perceived, what has not been perceived, what has already been perceived, and what may no longer be preceived (which is not a play on words, or better, it is, but only in the truest sense, in the highest sense that boh playing and language may call for). She has been working on the confused, pervading thicknesses in which psychological and sensoriy experience is stratified. In this flow of images, in which each is irremediably born of the image that preceded it, every now and then, who knows why, there is a folt: an image frees itself from the others, surfaces diagonally and comes to the forefront. Photography explicates the function of rendering this emergency visible. It is something like a perception that becomes writing, from inside which an indescribable automatism cause the words to emerge. Marina Ballo Charmet’s photographs unfold by means of a particular procedure that takes on deep significance in the making, as well as in the results it reaches in each individual situation. In the course of time, her research become more and more like a measurement, an exploration of the existential spaces of everyday occurrence collected in its most elementary aspects, tracing an itinerary that goes to the roots of experience. This quality appertains to the realm of experience typical of those who are city-bred. What do the first percepiton of those growing up in a city regard if not the proximity of large bodies inside one’s dwelling or the existence of circumscribed corner, specific areas of the place, of the rooms, and then, in a natureless exterior, the repentition of big buildings? It is a familiarity with things and people, it is an urban kind of affectivity which, not unsurprisingly finds in photography its most appropriate means of expression. The garments, the fabbrics that clad the bodies, are like the materials that cover every part of the interior space of the house, the private place of one’s existence; they are like the buildings and the streets that cover every part of the space we define as a city, rendering it entirely artificial. Underneath everything that has been clad, covered, constructed, there remains a skin, a breath, a memory, a distant story that is trying to emerge here and there, perhaps, through these pictures.
R. Valtorta, “Rumore di fondo/Background Noise”, in Marina Ballo Charmet, Rumore di fondo, Art&, Udine, 1998.