Tell a magic.
1942 was a turning point in the life and career of Franco Toninelli. He was born in 1924 in San Giovanni Lupatoto, not far from the Veronese "low plains" that he made so many photos of, illustrating their landscape and atmosphere with great love and sensitivity. But when he was eighteen he met Malcesine and was charmed by the magic that has struck many before him, the same magic that enchanted Goethe and legion of tourists, yesterday and today. He lived in Malcesine from then until April 2003 when he died.
He took inspired photographs of Malcesine, award-winning photos that have been exhibited and admired throughout Italy and in many European countries as well as countries such as Brazil, China, South Africa and the US.
Franco Toninelli was an admirer of Federico Vender, a key figure in Italian photography in the years between 1930 and 1960. Toninelli considered Vender to be his master and Vender, who spent many years in Malcesine, expressed his personal appreciation for Toninelli's "professional and artistic qualities, a professional photographer who retains the enthusiasm of the amateur".
Toninelli became a member of the Florentine Photography Group back in the 1953, and he was affiliated with the FIAP, International Amateur Photographers Association, which has its headquarters at Berne in Switzerland. Entry into this circle helped his work to become known and appreciated throughout the world. He, however, liked to remind us that he has been a member of the Bronziero Foto Club of Badia Polesine (Rovigo) since 1991. By doing so he probably wants to remember his second sentimental and artistic homeland: the Po Valley "lowlands" that inspired many other beautiful photos with their landscapes and intense atmosphere. And Malcesine's adopted photographer son was also proud to remind us that his photos also illustrated a handsome book about the Po Valley, its images and traditions during the year's four season. This book was written and edited by Dino Coltro, a famous dialect poet and expert of popular folk traditions especially concerning the Veronese plains and countryside.
Now, the Toninelli family opens his rich Malcesine record files, revealing a large part for the joy and also, it's important to remember, for the admiration (and memories and thoughts) of his fellow townspeople as well as Malcesine's visitors.
Toninelli was a participating witness, portraying Malcesine and all its details and aspects just as a lover gazes on the object of his love. We find "old" Malcesine in his photos, all the more romantic and melancholy because it represents our lost past, of which remain so many relics, memories and atmospheres.
And, in strong contrast and comparison, we find today's Malcesine in photos taken just a few decades later, from the same viewpoint and with the same camera. A work that searches for and questions the beauty of these places enjoyed year after year by so many people. Look, for example, at the "group bathing" scenes on the beach.
In the photos of Toninelli we can see Malcesine of rough grey historic walls, built of stone, plaster, brick and terracotta, with the characteristic olive wood beams which support the windows. Malcesine was depicted in a photo exhibition a few years ago with doorways and antiquated doorframes showing signs of aging, old iron handles, knockers, locks and tiny windows. Verdant Malcesine is shown, with plants growing unexpectedly between houses leaning one against the other; hidden in the maze of the old walls and alleyways of the medieval town centre. Large fig trees managed to take seed and grow in unimaginable spots, even in the brickwork and cracks in the walls. Vines grew in the alleyways and climbed to the rooftops creating pergolas between one house and another, or were planted in lines amongst the vegetable plots.
Persimmon, medlar, mulberry, oleander, cypress, chestnut, ivy, wisteria and other climbers thrived. Through the photos of Toninelli the eye can see a fairytale image of Malcesine which can still be discovered here and there, by those with the patience to look.In other photos Malcesine can be seen huddled on its peninsula around the Castle surrounded by green and silver with the odd glimpse of a house every now and again. The little town of Malcesine nestled in the immensity of mountains and lake. One example can perhaps help us understand how the enamoured eye of this photographer can select and describe.
There is a mulberry tree in via Cerche, almost at the foot of the castle tower and amidst ancient houses some with intact medieval walls. This tree sprouts directly out from the cobblestones, with its thick and sturdy trunk, so old and twisted that only a slab of marble keeps it from falling over. I remember this mulberry when it was alive, full of leaves and white sticky berries which, as we all knew, where not at all good to eat.
One of Toninelli's photos catches this mulberry during the winter, beneath the snow: a dry and knotted sculpture that stands out from its white background. The strong and expressive use of black and white transforms the tree into an unreal figure, frozen in its effort to exist, to survive. A symbol of suspended life; life that has stopped in time but is not dead and will not die until to the sentiments that bring its memory back to life cease. This is why, for me, that tree is still there, in its place, even though it's not.
This is what Toninelli's photos do.
This is where we understand how an artist makes us see everyday reality as though it were new, teaching us to look at it with new eyes, more attentive and sensitive or, perhaps, "older" eyes: those that remember, that harbour sentiment and refuse the superficial. How we learn to comprehend the worth and the deep need for true beauty that is in each of us, going beyond spectacular beauty or the false and mercantile beauty of advertising.
This is how we understand why photography by an artist is not just technique, composition and harmony of forms and lights, light and shadow, fullness and emptiness, reality and symbol. Nor is it just a store of memories: bait that attracts memories of the past. Instead, we have a fuse that ignites exploding emotions. Strong emotions can also be felt looking at the works of Franco Toninelli depicting the crafts of times gone by. For example the drying racks hand made from the reeds from Lake Garda which were then used for drying the small fish caught in abundance by the fishermen. These same fishermen are portrayed at work mending their fishing nets, relaxing and making the most of the fresh air as the sun sets and the last rays reflect their sparkling light in the lake. The olive groves stretched to the lake side unbounded by walls or fences and captured the warm sunlight. The peace is felt at the shrines which stand in natural settings surrounded by greenery. The olive trunks have been sculptured by disease and skilful intervention. They resemble strange, grotesque giants or monsters yet at the same time benevolent beings who donate their precious oil in return for hard work. In the port, the boats loaded with wood and the sails set, resemble sculptures with multicoloured drapes swaying in the wind - which is evident in the waves on the lake. The ships in dry dock are wooden skeletons with the strong odour of tar and give the impression of enormous dying fish pulled onto dry land into the hands of the waiting men. There is the narrowest alleyway in the world, the windmill (where now a large hotel stands), the bowling greens which were situated in what are now the Captain's Palace gardens. The photo of the Val di Sogno (Valley of Dreams) bay, with the sun rays beaming through the clouds is a romantic chiaroscuro picture of a truly dreamlike quality. Newsworthy events have also been recorded over the years; the bomber "Pippo" which crashed in the Porto Vecchio leaving its sign on the Palazzo Abati and its inhabitants. Religious processions, funerals, military parades and "heroic" fascist mottos inscribed on houses have all been captured on film. As have such events as the explosion of the gunpowder store on the Trimeloni Island in 1954 and the flood of 1960 when the lake took possession of every lakeside town and flowed through the streets and town squares.
Everyday sights and events have also been recorded such as the heavy storms which turn the Corso Garibaldi road into a river… timeless images as familiar yesterday as they are today…
Emotions prey on us in each of Franco Toninelli's photographs.
One of these emotions is joy which is perhaps the most unexpected. The joy coming from this impassioned black and white is the joy that springs from knowing that memories, fragments of life, facts and persons, experience, nature and the beauty condensed in images – that none of these is lost with the lapse of time. Franco Toninelli, over several decades, in every season, has succeeded in collecting and telling us of the atmosphere of Malcesine.
As Faust did, he froze the moment to make it immortal. He can perhaps show us the way of penetrating the mystery and the magic of this place that captured Goethe and attracts so many people, forcing them to admire, to stop there and to come back. The townspeople of Malcesine themselves are often unaware of the beauty and the magic of their town.
Perhaps this is a reason for forgiving them if, at any time, they ignore their town's beauty or do not respect it as they should. Once again we of Malcesine must remember how fortunate we are: here we share and enjoy the patient work and the art of Franco Toninelli.
Malcesine, June 13, 1994

I now write these last few lines about 15 years later, and Franco is no longer with us.
His last years were not that different than those before; some exhibitions, projects for books to record and remember his works – some which were realized while others remained projects – and then his ill health.
So what memories of him remain with me? I remember how taken I was with an exhibition of his, held in a furniture shop, which consisted purely of photos of old doors and locks. These simple everyday items of days gone by took me back to my childhood, spent exploring in the narrow passages and alleyways of the old town huddled around the castle. There were houses that showed the irregular stonework used in their construction, and others showing the layers of plaster that had cracked and fallen over time only to be filled and covered over with more rough layers. Barns and storerooms contained ancient agricultural equipment, barrows, sledges and carts that were once pulled by horses or oxen.
Malcesine had conserved its character from medieval times until the era of my childhood. Since then the prosperity that arrived with tourism has removed some signs of poverty, cleaned up others and left only small traces of the Malcesine that was. From these historic remains, we can use our imaginations, and rather like an archaeological site, put the pieces together to see the historical town which is no more.
Malcesine for me is of course as it stands today, but also (perhaps more so) the Malcesine that I first saw and knew, with trees growing between the houses, the tiny courtyards and even directly in the alleyways and squares. The agaves grew abundantly on the castle rock and the fig trees found homes between the stones of the ancient walls. Vines prospered with little more than a piece of earth and a little rain.
The climate was mild, the sun shone. The cats trotted agilely and silently, lords and ladies of the rooftops.
Franco Toninelli managed to capture that Malcesine, glimpses and particularities full of significance and beauty. His tastes and artistic capability caught and composed images that should not be lost or forgotten. His precious photographic archive must remain in Malcesine. Printed books and collections should make his work known and shared with those who do not have the good fortune to possess the originals.
Malcesine has always needed to look at itself from the outside to understand itself.
An outsider's viewpoint helps to see things in a different light, to be aware of the everyday sights that have become taken for granted. The summer is full of chaos and the winter brings the complete opposite. Life itself also needs to be regarded with a fresh new outlook. It should never be banal, expected and taken for granted. Artists show us that. They take a small fragment of life, choose it, freeze it and tell a story sometimes without even needing to beautify it or add anything. The story is there as it is; perfect, unique, whole and speaks for itself with one simple image.
And so artists give us a gift that lasts forever. They suggest to us that there are lots of other moments, images and stories. We need only to stop and look, listen and take the time to understand the emotions we receive from our surroundings. We also need to understand the emotions within us that bring deeper understanding of ourselves and our lives.
What remains of Franco Toninelli in Malcesine?
His photos are a mirror of our lives, past and present. They are like the portrait of Dorian Grey, but in this case the images remain young and innocent, whilst the body decays. Some of the images are even painful because they are the conscience of those that observe them. It is no small thing, in a moment in time when conscience and morals seem old fashioned, or are only relative opinions. Of course not everyone will be affected by images of conscience but it's a free world! But I think that the world needs sensitive people with a conscience. There is a need for people like Franco and I sincerely hope that there will always be someone in Malcesine who will continue his precious work. Photograph the historic wall and the ancient olive trees while there is still the chance!
What remains of Franco Toninelli?
All our yesterdays, in colour and in black and white. This will help us understand our today.
July 2009