I have known restorers, a lot of restorers I started photographing altarpieces, frescoes.
Three are the sacred moments of the documentation, a ritual: The first, the during ( the cleaning, we have already spoken about it, you remember) the final: the rebirth of the work of art.
For the restorers it is a new birth I have joined them in churches in the deep winter, in the convents, sisters, brothers, pastors, few prayers, a lot of cold, damp.
The restorers, a bit like all those who pass hour after hour in solitude, or in the company of only an assistant, become hard, sharp, I would dare to say envious, they cannot stand one another, it is an environment “ not very recommended”.
I met Alberto late on, when the photography of restoration for me was already water passed under the bridge and maybe he showed me another face of the restorers.
Alberto is mild, but not superficial, on the contrary full of passion, enthusiasm, love for life and for his work.
He travels, and this is not to undervalue, a journey, physical or of literature opens the mind.
He has a severe look, but soon after he smiles, laughs, jokes, maybe it is a sign of a shyness in his distant youth.
He has great respect for the interlocutor of the moment, but if he doesn’t like you he doesn’t speak badly of you, if he is not interested, he ignores you, you don’t deserve his time.
When he speaks about his work he lights up, suffers, gets angry.
In painting regret is an afterthought in continual progress, that an artist puts in place, masking the previous version which he doesn’t think is satisfactory.
And the restorers discover the regrets of the artists working on the canvas Alberto’s regret concerning his work regards bureaucracy.
He has never loved restrictions. But you can’t but think well for the future.