“No mi l’ammento” is a visual narrative about the passage of time and the gradual fading of memories. The project is divided into two parts: 6 intense, high-contrast black-and-white portraits and 6 color landscapes depicting the places in Sardinia where these people were born and raised.

The portraits are in black and white to emphasize memory and the past. I photographed men and women aged 90 to 103, including my own grandmother. Their faces tell long, full lives. Black and white is not merely an aesthetic choice; it lends weight to time, wrinkles, and weary yet profound gazes. The stark contrast between light and shadow highlights both the hardship and the beauty of lives lived. These people will not be here forever, but the stories they carry within them will endure.

The color landscapes tell another part of the project: Sardinia itself. The places photographed are the very ones where these people lived. Unlike bodies that age and change, the land remains. The vibrant colors speak to the strength of the island, its soul. One image shows the sea—a profound symbol of Sardinia: it embraces everything and endures even when all else disappears.

The title, “No mi l’ammento”, means “I don’t remember” in Sardinian. It’s a phrase often heard from the elderly as they begin to forget. It speaks of fading memory, of distant recollections. But it’s not just a sad phrase; it’s also a way of saying that, despite forgetfulness, something endures. Places, roots, culture—all of this survives even when people begin to forget.

This project is an homage to the memory of those about to leave us and to an unchanging land. It is an invitation to pause, observe, and remember; because memory lives not only in thoughts and bodies but also in landscapes and the stories that persist, even when those who lived them can no longer tell them.

The photographs are arranged in ascending order of age, starting with the “youngest” faces (90 years old) up to the oldest (103).