In Milan, around 1991, Luigi Ghirri told Mario Cresci that after having spent many years exploring the landscape and the things of life with countless photographs, he was thinking about something else, and in that moment all that remained for him was to photograph the fog of his homeland, as an extreme sign of erasure of the world, heading towards the unfathomable, the unknown. Roncocesi, one of his last photographs, taken in January 1992, captures the light that flares like a hazy sky, becoming a horizon between two fields separated by an irrigation ditch. The water in the ditch seems like milky hoarfrost, the mirror of a foggy whiteness. The state of suspension, of both the light and the haze, is captured in an ecstatic vision, as it might have been experienced by a medieval mystic. In this image the photographer lets himself be led into the non-delimitation of the real, in a fraction of time in which a rarefaction of space is in progress. He encourages us to see something else there, the remains of the visible, suggesting the absence of limits, another aspect of reality, i.e. that which cannot be circumscribed: “The eradication of the space that surrounds specific fragment I...