Lit - Designs In Use

Lit: Foscarini’s Postcards Of Light

foscarini-postcards-of-light

The city of Stockholm in Sweden is a location that’s truly unique in its beauty. rooted in history while constantly building and evolving. As such, it was the perfect location for Foscarini Lighting‘s latest project. Created by longtime collaborator Gianluca Vassallo, Postcards Of Light is an adventure that draws from the past to create something new and bright.

“I remember a trip when I was a child,” Vassallo recalls as he explains his inspiration. “My father drove from Naples to Venice, his mother by his side, my mother in back with my sister and me, in an ultramarine blue Alfasud. It was my grandmother’s last voyage. In the only photograph that documents it all, she is surrounded by pigeons and our hugs. She wears a sumptuous fur coat, that of a woman who grew up in poverty, became wealthy and then abruptly poor again, with the dignity of a war experienced in her twenties, and a peace that suddenly made her a mother and then a widow.”

“That picture was taken by a nameless photographer at Piazza San Marco,” he continues, “and two hours later he had printed five copies, with space for stamps and words on the back, to send out into the world. And we did just that. My grandmother wrote all five postcards, at a table at Caffè Florian; my father still remembers the bill. She sent one to each of her children, with a single phrase, the same for all: thanks for having given me life.”

“That postcard is still there,” Vassallo states, “in a tin box that contains the letters to my mother from my father when he was a soldier. There he is with his rifle, on a tank, very skinny, looking like Celentano. There are pictures of me as a child, my mother in girlhood, my sister crying in the midst of marvelous light. That postcard survives, bearing witness to the joy of having been there, in the world, of having been there in the heart.”

“Postcards of Light, from my viewpoint, which is that of the author, basically brings with it the same process,” he illustrates, “the desire for someone, at any latitude, someone who is sharing the good fortune of being in the world with me now, at this moment, to be able to feel the grace with which I try to cross it.”

“Accompanied in each of my voyages by the light of the world and by the light Foscarini attempts to add, the light made by men, the light Foscarini gives to them, with the hope that just one, even, of the many who pass lightly over the present, will feel the desire to write on the back of these images: thanks for having given me light.”