To live in the light comes at a heavy price, and no one knows this better than Prometheus, who stole the eternal fires from the gods and gifted this light and warmth to mankind. Prometheus in turn paid the ultimate price: to be chained forever to a rock in the Caucasus where his liver is eaten daily by an eagle, an unending torture, since every night his liver is regenerated due to his immortality. Is this a fair punishment?
Prometheus mistake was to believe in a utopia where mortals and gods alike could stand on an equal footing. Fire, which stands for knowledge, was meant for all, no matter their gender or divine providence. For Zeus this was an unpardonable sin, for his sovereignty and power was questioned. To bask under the burning light of knowledge, it was mankind’s first step to a world of equality.
So, what does this have to do with the photographic work of Riccardo Lancia?
His images present women under a melancholy light, a superficial fragility that hides unimaginable inner strength. His pictures reveal a pain of injustice, which has forged the greatest of spirits. In my eyes, these women are like Prometheus: clever individuals with unbreakable will and a thirst for equality, who must sometimes pay the ultimate price. Zeus represents the archaic and patriarchal society that undermines and represses women under the belief that a world order must be obeyed.
Riccardo Lancia’s work speaks of delicacy and fragility, and we cannot help but think of the endless struggle to destroy any barriers of gender inequality. Compared to other great photographers who proclaim the battles that have been won and adorn their work with optimistic speeches, Riccardo prefers to dwell on the pain and struggle.
Riccardo Lancia fashions himself as a pessimist who understands the fear and bitterness that come with being a woman. His sombre compositions are sophisticated, and pain is at the epicenter of his work. Tears coursing down their cheeks and their absent looks are mesmerizing to the viewer, and their beauty is hallowed by the destroyed and sombre surroundings.
This is perhaps his greatest metaphor: a world that thrives on double standards and contradictions. He scoffs at the divine mandate that man was created under the image of God and that women sprouted from a measly rib, a sinister and condescending act of feigned superiority. We were all created equal, and as such, we all must thrive and prosper on this earth.
