Mulling over my photos has made me more aware of the importance of being in tune with one’s time in order to capture it. That is the phenomenal talent that New York City exudes. It is open to change and it has the capacity to transform the city in such a way as to reflect this evolution.

Digging in my personal archive has not filled me with nostalgia. In fact I look at this work as an historian in front of documents of passed decades and try to put them in some sequential order. Memories do spring back. Many are tucked away in the hidden drawers of my brain. Most of them are irrelevant and I salute them with a warm smile, and let them go. I only keep the images that fit this puzzle. I don’t dwell on the past, or my youth. I like the saying that youth is often wasted in the young, and I certainly had my share. Most of these images were made in my days of aimless meanderings in the city, much like the 19th century flaneur. I have come to think that in my hometown life moves at a fraction of the speed than it would in New York. Strange as it may seem, inhabitants here seem to age faster than in New York. I feel a need to leave as often as I can to get a shot of adrenaline and a dose of that special New York elixir of long life.

Historical cities are governed and inhabited by people who live off the past and have little need to create a different future for themselves and their cities. New York City doesn’t get too caught up with it’s past, The city moves forward fast and so does the society that runs it.

Every year I look forward to my next trip, anxious to discover all that has changed in the skyline and in the street life. And perhaps to capture once again the experience of astonishment I felt so strongly on my first boat crossing. Would I feel the same way if I actually lived there?

Probably not.

Martino Marangoni