DECEMBER 2017
Daniela Comani
1975 – Diario di strada
Archive Books, 2017
DEAR FRIEND OF 8 BOOKS A YEAR,
How old are you? I was born in 1972 and some of my strongest childhood memories relate to cars. I still know how incredibly relaxing it felt to be lying down, sleeping unstrapped in the back of my parent’s car when we went on vacation together. I also remember when I went 200 kilometers per hour for the very first time: our father had picked up a his new Mercedes-Benz “123” – I remember that it was a brown one – and tested its limits while our mom and I sat next to him, both of us on the edge of our seats, but for different reasons (I enjoyed it very much). The craziest situation I can recollect was probably the one when our mother had to drive me somewhere while a maneuver of the US military was taking place in the meadows directly in front of our house. She had a thin-walled red Renault 4 (a popular model at the time) and actually dared to enter the street on which terrifying American battle tanks were driving immediately in front of and behind our pretty little French car. I remembered this story when I rediscovered the “r4” in Daniela Comani’s book, right in between a Saab 99 and a Ford Capri. This book deals both with personal and collective memory. As a child, Daniela thoroughly noted all the plate numbers of the vehicles that overtook her parents’ car – or were overtaken by it – while she sat in the back and stared out the window. She often added the make and its specific model. Forty years later, Daniela stumbled over one of her old notebooks: a planner from 1975 with her list of cars. She did some research and found neutral photographs of the models which were taken by the manufacturers for brochures. What was “daily scenery” on our streets back then looks almost like an excerpt from a design museum now. Is it nostalgia playing a trick on us? Or do you think it’s possible that most things just looked better back in those days?
All my best,
Christian Kaspar Schwarm
Daniela Comani
1975 – Diario di strada
Archive Books, 2017
Read InscriptionDEAR FRIEND OF 8 BOOKS A YEAR,
How old are you? I was born in 1972 and some of my strongest childhood memories relate to cars. I still know how incredibly relaxing it felt to be lying down, sleeping unstrapped in the back of my parent’s car when we went on vacation together. I also remember when I went 200 kilometers per hour for the very first time: our father had picked up a his new Mercedes-Benz “123” – I remember that it was a brown one – and tested its limits while our mom and I sat next to him, both of us on the edge of our seats, but for different reasons (I enjoyed it very much). The craziest situation I can recollect was probably the one when our mother had to drive me somewhere while a maneuver of the US military was taking place in the meadows directly in front of our house. She had a thin-walled red Renault 4 (a popular model at the time) and actually dared to enter the street on which terrifying American battle tanks were driving immediately in front of and behind our pretty little French car. I remembered this story when I rediscovered the “r4” in Daniela Comani’s book, right in between a Saab 99 and a Ford Capri. This book deals both with personal and collective memory. As a child, Daniela thoroughly noted all the plate numbers of the vehicles that overtook her parents’ car – or were overtaken by it – while she sat in the back and stared out the window. She often added the make and its specific model. Forty years later, Daniela stumbled over one of her old notebooks: a planner from 1975 with her list of cars. She did some research and found neutral photographs of the models which were taken by the manufacturers for brochures. What was “daily scenery” on our streets back then looks almost like an excerpt from a design museum now. Is it nostalgia playing a trick on us? Or do you think it’s possible that most things just looked better back in those days?
All my best,
Christian Kaspar Schwarm