Landslide
by Sergio Ferri
portfolio special mention call 'Urbanautica Institute Awards 2024', 2024
Category: Nature, Environment and Perspectives
The Apennines have been the backbone of the Italian territory for centuries, a complex crossroads of economic and cultural exchanges between coastal areas and inland plains.
The cultural and environmental heritage on which much of Italy's identity and memory is based is still present in the Apennine valleys.
Since the Second World War, however, these territories have been depopulated at a dizzying rate, so much so that large areas of the most internal ones are now abandoned, with serious damage to the economy and the environment.
And if today on the Apennines as a whole, despite everything, about 10 million inhabitants still resist, the social and environmental consequences of the abandonment of these territories is devastating.
the purpose of this work is not to tell the story of the Apennines as an
idealized place.
Giving value to the Apennines means first of all "looking" with different eyes at this territory and those who have chosen to live there, fleeing from the exotic or from aestheticizing and consolatory temptations.
The Apennines need to regain greater awareness of their own potential and resources.
Review by URBANAUTICA
The Apennines—Italy’s long backbone—today appear suspended between the memory of what they once were and the uncertainty of what they may become. Sergio Ferri’s photographic project moves precisely within this liminal space, without rhetoric, and without indulging in an enchanted vision of nature. His gaze is lyrical, yes, but also engaged and humble—one that understands the Apennines are not merely a place to be observed, but to be listened to, and above all, understood.Through faces, gestures, glimpses, and fragments of landscape, Ferri leads us into a rarefied and uncertain daily life. An embrace with a horse that conceals a human face offers us a chance to identify, to accept vulnerability, perhaps even to imagine another way of being. A man holds his rifle, another displays his medals and decorations, while an elderly woman seems to gather scattered memories in her gaze. Two young girls clasp hands like fragile dreams, rooted—who knows—in some faraway city.
And yet, Ferri does not idealize. His work is neither a defense of the Apennines nor yet another indictment of their slow, relentless decline. Rather, it is an invitation to reflect on what it means, today, to inhabit lands that often suffer—chronically—from a lack of services, poor investment, scarce job opportunities, and demographic hemorrhage. Not everywhere, but in many areas. And meanwhile, cities—the “black holes” that many try to escape from every weekend—are increasingly revealing their own limits. Is marginality really only found here?
Ferri’s images evoke a relationship with nature that goes beyond the idyllic: a bond that demands effort, rupture, and uncertainty. The Apennines are not for everyone. There may be a chance for redemption—economic, cultural, existential—but not without sacrifice. And it is precisely the restrained portraits in this body of work that question us about the cost of those choices. Living in the Apennines is a conscious decision, one that entails renunciation, solitude, at times disillusionment. It is a way of life that clashes with the promises of urban modernity, built on comfort and total accessibility.
Then there is the risk that these places lose their essence, or become hollowed out only to be filled with second homes and “retreats” for those who can afford them. The gentrification of nature is not so different from that of the urban: it too is shaped by conflicting forces, interests, and visions. Who decides the future of the Apennines? And who will remain? And for what purpose?
Perhaps we must also accept that some areas may return to wilderness—that human presence is not always necessary, nor even desirable. That not everything must be inhabited, controlled, exploited. In an era when the planet demands a profound rethinking of our priorities, the idea of making room for the non-human might not represent defeat, but rather a different kind of maturity.
Are we ready to accept a different future for the Apennines, even at the cost of rethinking our own prerogatives? Sergio Ferri’s work leads us—with visual delicacy and depth—into confrontation with questions that still await an answer. It gives us back a humanity that continues to exist, even before it resists. But for how much longer? Perhaps the true subject here is not the Apennines, but the way we choose to see—and imagine—them.
also from Urbanautica Institute Awards 2024