Non bisogna scomodare Vitangelo Moscarda (Pirandello, per chi era fuori dalla classe nell’ora di lettere, a fumarsi una sigaretta) per pensare di essere, talvolta, un po’ a disagio in una città dai confini limitati che ospita 7 milioni e mezzo di individui.

Si, Hong Kong non raggiunge le densità’ delle megalopoli asiatiche, e confrontata con i 33 milioni di abitanti che censisce Tokyo, i 17 e passa contati a NY, a Sao Paolo e a Seoul, sembra quasi un paesino delle Valli Bergamasche che ha sostituito il “pota” con 唔該 (mm-goi, “sorry“, per chi era fuori dell’istituto di lingue orientali a bersi un cappuccino, mentre si spiegava la fraseologia Cantonese).

Esiste comunque un tradizione più forte per la “confort zone” rispetto alla China per esempio. Un’amica a Shanghai mi spiegava che il modo di fare di alcuni anziani nell’accaparrarsi una sedia libera nella metro, sgusciando e facendosi largo tra la densa folla, era frutto di vecchie paure e fami: qui pare forse l’esperienza coloniale abbia lasciato una traccia comportamentale meno disperata.

Foto? C’e’ comunque – spesso – una ricerca di solitudine, e la Signora Tedesca a Telemetro ce la mostra …


Discover more from THE QUIET REPORT

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

It has been more than fifty years since I began traveling across the world — and the seven seas — for work or for pleasure, always with a Leica M camera close at hand. The camera has never been an accessory; it has been a constant companion, a way of observing, remembering, and making sense of the places and people I encountered along the way. I started keeping this kind of journal some time ago, not as a diary in the traditional sense, but as a space where images and words could meet. This is not a publication driven by schedules or algorithms. At times I disappear for long stretches; then, inevitably, I return with semi-regular updates. Publishing, for me, is a mirror of my state of mind and emotions. It follows my rhythm, not the other way around. You have to take it exactly as it comes. Every photograph you see here is mine. They are fragments of a life spent moving, looking, and waiting for moments to reveal themselves — often quietly, sometimes unexpectedly. This blog is not about destinations, but about presence. About what remains when the journey slows down and the shutter finally clicks.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from THE QUIET REPORT

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading

Discover more from THE QUIET REPORT

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading