What is my family passing down to me? I investigated the heirlooms of both my families: my mother's side and my father's side, which I divide into two different influences as they have different origins, languages, and stories.
My parents' divorce probably strengthened this differentiation in my mind but deepened the necessity I've always felt of understanding myself through them.
Cardenas Venzo
Mami, or Maria Luisa, my grandmother: in her old house - where many of my memories belong. Mami got to Italy in 1976, a story one day I will tell. Since then, she's been living in the same council house. Until the pandemic, that is, when my aunt finally was able to get her a newer and safer apartment in the same area of the city.
Mami in my aunt's kitchen. It doesn't matter if you invite her over, she'll always bring some food and make you feel like you must let her cook. Mami with her favourite book, Metafisica 4 en 1. I still don't know what it's about 'cause she won't explain it to me, but she's been reading it forever, since the '90s.
Tia Tere, my grand-aunt: peeling a boiled egg from my grandmother's kitchen. Tia Tere lives for half of the year in Quito and the other half in Italy. I wish it wasn't that expensive to travel to Ecuador, I would love to go with her. I've always had these independent women as grand-aunts - you'll meet Angela later - and I think seeing them travel and more in general live their lives freely, inspired me in many choices I still stand by today.
Mami is bathing that little dirty monster that is my Nicholas, my brother, in her old house. Three generations bathed in that tiny tub.
They're laughing, but usually, you can hear screams all over the house when my brother's doing his homework. My mother Susana probably was in a good mood.
My mother had me at 18, so she looks like she could be my older sister. We look very much alike in some ways - my partner often points out when I move, talk or laugh like her. She's the one who raised me, so I suppose that was bound to happen. Especially since I admire her very much.
My mother with a creepy picture of a kid I decided to buy it because I wanted to scare guests in my new house. My mother in a rally. My mother in a pub.
My grandmother, my mother and my aunt Elia. Elia was the one who let me fall in love with fashion, because many of my nice clothes are her hands down from the 90s. So now you know why I love Moschino.
My brother mindlessly watching the phone and making a chocolate mess. It's odd, my brother and I are quite dissimilar in many ways. If it wasn't for our love for food and video games, that is. I used to be sad about not succeeding in passing down to him my passion for art, writing and more in general creativity. But being siblings doesn't mean being the same, I came to accept this.
Nicholas in the hospital for some tests. One thing we do share is our childhoods in and out of hospitals.
Nicholas in my grandmother's old house, in front of the green curtains I see every time I think about that place. Nicholas acting tough in the car boot sale me and my mother used to visit every Sunday. Nicholas with some toys.
A grown-up Nick with his cat, Pixel, in front of their home. Nick playing videogames in his room.
My grandmother and my greataunt cooking traditional Ecuadorian food. Mami rarely cooks it, she just sticks to arroz, avocado, llapingachos and the occasional empanadas. Thankfully, Tia Tere is always ecstatic when I ask for more traditional food: here she's making a humita.
My brother and my uncle Felice lounging after eating it all. Felice, or Felix, is a policeman. He used to follow me after school and send me pictures of me saying "You didn't notice you were being followed! That's not good! Always be aware of your surroundings!". So yes, I grew up to always, always be aware of everything, always with a plan B, always eyeing the closest exit. Maybe that wasn't ideal for my anxiety, but I pride myself on being ready for every catastrophic incident.
Matacena Piovosi
My greataunt Angela and my grandmother Maria. Taking pictures of Maria is hard, she never wants me to.
Next to them, my father Gianluca on the stairs of the building where the Piovosi family has lived since the 70s. In this picture, my father was back from years in which we didn't see each other. Even though we never spent much time together, I know I have some things that go back to him - whether the rebellious streak or the clinical anxiety and panic attacks.
Ludovica is my niece, and just like me, she loves spending her time up in the mountains, where our family has been renting a flat for a lifetime.
My grandmother, just like this whole side of the family except for Angela, has always been an avid smoker. She calmed it down lately, as my grandfather Ludovico did. My father still smokes way too much. Let's hope Ludovica won't go near a cigarette. I thankfully stopped smoking six years ago.
My aunt Angela, going through old letters in her home. Along with Tere, she showed me that I could lead a different life, free from the obligations of a wedding or children. With her important job, elegant clothes, jewelry and beauty, how could I not aim to become like her?
Ludovico, my grandfather. He's still working even in his 70s, he gets restless otherwise. I have the same problem, always looking for something to do, new projects to dive in. He's always supported my artistic side, hanging every single little drawing I used to make: now our mountain house looks a bit creepy, but I appreciate it nonetheless.
All pictures are shot on film.