I've aways been fascinated by urban archeology. Cities have a particular cultural landscape, and chronology is accessible in surprising contexts. Sometimes time manifests in mark-making, both intended and accidental. Other times history is obvious by comparison; an older building with architectural integrity next to a monstrosity of modern convenience tells the viewer time has passed, some structures responding more gracefully than others, the timeless beauty of stone, the vanity of reflective glass.
Cities also tell stories by what is left behind. I tend to notice paper ephemera, and if you've ever traveled with me you've seen me pick up other peoples' grocery lists, tip-out envelopes, rough-drafted love-letters, or even once, a piece of graph paper with complicated mathematical formulae. But these are the things of someone's hand. They are intimate, they are handled. What about the paper which is distributed intentionally? The paper that is left with the responsibility of conveying a message while degrading over time?
Ephemera charged with a task but cared for so little?
These images are from a trip to Italy last summer. In Rome, much like many American cities, there are designated spaces for posting, but this does not stop the act of pasting-up wherever. I've decided to show only a few of my favorites, but between Rome, Southern Italy, and the other images I've made in American cities of the same ilk, I'm amassing quite a collection.
+ a few of the pictures are the same locations, either on different days or in some cases, mere moments apart.