Massimo Ricciardo, born 1979 in Darmstadt, lives and works in Turin. He has exhibited his works, inter alia, at the Kunsthistorisches Institut in Florenz – Max-Planck-Institut, Florence, 2018; Karlskirche Karlsplatz/documenta 14, Kassel, 2017; Kunsthaus, Dresden, 2016, Palazzo Donà Brusa, 56th Venice Biennale, 2015; Dassweisssehaus Kunstverein Wien, 2014; Pavillion Social, Kunstverein Lucca, 2014; and the Raffaele De Grada Gallery of Modern and Contemporary Art, San Gimignano, 2013.


È solo una linea che ci separa

Photo installation


È solo una linea che ci separa (It is only a line that separates us) aims to tell a story that began on the island of Lampedusa in 2013. The installation Objects of Migration, Photo Objects of Art History. Encounters in an Archive, presented at the Photothek of the Kunsthistorisches Institut in Florence various times between 2017 and 2018, was inspired by and born from the photographic documentation of the Photothek and the objects that accompanied the refugees on their journeys. The project’s aim was to create a dialogue with the photographs documenting works of art that the Photothek has been collecting since 1897. These photographic series want to tell the story of what I have done during these years in a narrative that is as poetic as it is rooted in time. It is the story of relationships among individuals who are often diverse and distant yet bound together by mobility-migration, and who meet in different places and along different routes.

The project calls up apparent dichotomies between real objects and photographic objects with the aim of creating unexpected interconnections and discussions on methods and means of archiving and classifying. At the same time, it aims to be a stimulus for new thoughts on the objects of migration that should be considered part of our cultural heritage.


“È solo una linea che ci separa

È solo una linea che ci separa e separa il cielo dalla terra e dal mare,
ci osserviamo da lontano ma ci percepiamo vicini.
Mi siedo e attendo. Ruggine e rami mi proteggono.
Mescal è il mio nome.
Io ti guardo e tu guardi me.
Carlo è il mio nome.

Se mi avvicino sento molteplici voci.
È solo una barca che ci separa e separa il mare dalla terra e dal cielo e poi rumori, odori e ore di silenzio.
Se mi avvicino sento molteplici voci.

Non riesco ad avvertire più la mia pelle, sono terra.
Viaggio spesso da e verso Damasco,
porto con me numeri, nomi e ricordi.

Il mio corpo è assente, ma cammina per molti luoghi,
i miei piedi poggiano sull’Italia.” M.R.