I was not invited to write an essay for this book. To the contrary, I forced my way into this book. I did so because of my appreciation for Marco Anelli and his amazing work.
I briefly met Marco Anelli in 2015, at the unveiling of Paolo Canevari’s work for Nancy Olnick and Giorgio Spanu’s collection, when Magazzino was in its early design stages. At that time, Marco was working on a project related to Renzo Piano’s Whitney Museum of American Art in the Meatpacking District. A few months later, some of his pictures were showcased in the New York Times, and I had a chqnce to enjoy a large format version of them displayed in the windows of Bloomingdale’s.
The photographs vibrantly showcased the construction and the construction workers in various phases of development.
Soon after, when the construction for our project was about to start, Nancy and Giorgio envisioned a similar documentation project for the development of Magazzino; I was happy to learn that Marco had agreed to take on the task. What followed were almost thirty car rides from Manhattan to Cold Spring with him. During those rides, we would talk about photography, music, superhero movies, living in New York, and more.
Basically, those discussions were the threads that have been woven into a friendship. Every time Marco arrived at the site, he would put on his hardhat and disappear for a few hours. He could be found wandering around the property, studying the building and the surrounding natural environment, or engaging with one of the workers while taking his portrait.
At the end of the day, as we packed and got ready for the drive back to the city, I would ask him, “How did it go today?” Marco always responded in a soft-spoken manner, “It was okay.” A week later, inevitably, I would receive a mind-blowing batch of pictures. Marco is, no doubt, a humble and understated artist.
Marco’s work did not end with taking these photographs. His involvement goes well beyond that and into helping to design this book in order to create a well-rounded vision of what he witnessed. Yet his powerful and crisp images are more than mere documentation. Marco assumes a meta-presence in these pictures. He brings us into his world and makes us feel emotions that go way beyond documenting construction. Each of his pictures aims to move the observer in some subtle way. His portraits of the workers are reflections on the struggles of life, the pride each of us feels in our work, and, ultimately, a celebration of life.
The exterior images of the building do not merely document architecture; they bring us into the landscape of the Hudson Valley. Even the images of gas tanks scattered around the site or the pink dust mixed with the dirt on the ground remind us of our own finite existence. Marco’s restrained sense of humor is visible in an image of a worker swallowed by a tree or disappearing into the ceiling.
This book is more than a record of the highlights of the development of Magazzino. It is an art project conceived by an artist who wants to bring readers onsite with him to experience not only the construction of a building, but also the emotions of the people who made it happen and the natural haunting beauty of the land where it is located. Thanks to Marco, I also now have a detailed journal of the two wonderful years of intense and rewarding work that I spent building Magazzino.