If visiting the Galleria is as natural as drinking a glass of water for the Milanese, for tourists it’s an essential stop on the city tour. Among all those eyes turned to the precious mosaic floor as to the mighty bulk of the dome, we could have seen Mario De Biasi’s eyes there so many times, too. In this 1954 photograph he portrays, as always from above, the central octagon of Milan’s salotto buono, or parlour. Yet there had been a time when all had seemed lost. On 13 August 1943, bombing reduced the Galleria to rubble. But the Milanese did not lose heart, even if the subsequent reconstruction was long and complex.
Let’s listen to Maria Vittoria Baravelli.

“Mario De Biasi felt the urgent need to convey a sense of re-appropriation of some places that had disappeared from everyday life for a time. He renews his love for the symbols of the city in his photographs, around which he catalysed a collective identity to be rebuilt.
Milan has had two periods in which it was the centre of a renewal of society: between the 1950s and 60s with the economic boom, which was the period that De Biasi lived through, and in the early 20th century, the exalting years of Futurism. How can we fail to think, for example, of Umberto Boccioni’s famous 1910 painting Rissa in Galleria in the Pinacoteca di Brera? In his painting, an agitated crowd of characters creates the impression of generating movement in the air; it is the wind of change and regeneration, whose effects are still alive and present in De Biasi’s photograph.

A mysterious figure projects its shadow along a pavement flooded by the sun. Behind her, some spilled tar reflects the light, creating the impression of a chaotic texture. The left side of the photo is delimited by the deep shadow of a building, whose architecture reflects geometric lines on the ground. In the background we can imagine the presence of people and cars. The atmosphere of the image is difficult to decipher, suspended in time as it is. De Biasi was there, and grasped this singular juncture of lights and shadows, dragging us along the street beside him, while he reveals the charm and poetry of the city he loved most.Maria Vittoria Baravelli guides us in understanding the image.

“We decided to include this photograph in the exhibition to illustrate De Biasi’s will to conceptualise. Alongside the more documentary dimension of reportage, there’s also a more artistic, creative dimension, which opens a door to complex narrative worlds. I love to say that artists are the filter through which society recounts itself. Each artist narrates the world he likes or dislikes, or the one in which he would like to live. This photograph shows how De Biasi knew how to be an artist out of time. Indeed, who could say in what historical period was it taken? There are no specific elements that can suggest a precise dating: it is a timeless image. Even the subject remains mysterious; on the back the photographer had noted only one word: "asphalt".
Regardless, one of De Biasi’s constants was immersing himself into the daily life of people, flowing through the streets and on the city pavements, portraying it through slices and points of view that were often unusual and enigmatic."

A mysterious woman, alone, walks safely before us without looking back. Imagine the sound of her heels on the pavement as it resonates all around, attracting the attention of passers-by.Maria Vittoria Baravelli reveals the background of a photograph so iconic it has become a real manifesto of Italian art over the years.

“Not everyone knows that this photograph is just one moment of a wider service, of which we have included the proofs in the exhibition.In 1954 the director of Mondadori’s Bolero Film magazine expressly requested a contribution from De Biasi to attract new readers. The photographer took the assignment very seriously, despite the fact that it was a matter of shooting for a photo story with a discouraging title — Difficile abbordaggio, or Difficult Pick-up. The story tells the adventure of a lonely man wandering around the city centre in search of conquests. Noticing a beautiful girl, so magnetic that she turns the heads of everyone she passes, he follows her on a long walk through Milan, but without managing to approach her.
For the female part, a little-known, 20-year-old circus artist was chosen — Moira Orfei. The Italians Turn Around came from one photograph of this sequence. It is De Biasi’s most famous photograph, even if not his favourite.In this photograph the author summarises some symbols of Milan in a single frame: Zucca coffee, a Lambretta and the newspaper La Notte, rolled up in the pocket of the man in the foreground. If at first glance this photo appears related to a machismo that you’d prefer to see archived, when read in the context of the entire sequence it takes on a new meaning. At the end of her stroll, Moira returns to the circus to work as a trapeze artist. She is a free, emancipated, charismatic woman. In fact, we witnessed a change in the perception of a woman in the 1950s: she is no longer simply a mother, daughter or sister, but a well-rounded individual. Milan, once again, was the city in which this social and cultural conquest was affirmed.”

Did you know that De Biasi was affectionately nicknamed the "crazy Italian"? Why?
Because sent around the world by the magazine Epoca, our photojournalist often worked in difficult and dangerous situations, literally throwing himself into the adventure. At a time when travelling was a luxury reserved for few, De Biasi’s photographs allowed thousands of readers of at least two generations to see the facts and protagonists of history, as well as the places of the world, as if they were there, next to him.Maria Vittoria Baravelli will accompany us out of his adoptive city for this last part of the story.

“De Biasi certainly didn’t photograph only Milan, on the contrary! In fact, over the years some of the great upheavals that marked the 20th century played out before his lens. This is the case of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, during which De Biasi risked his life to carry out the famous and intense reportage under the Soviet bombings. But he also immortalised lighter episodes, such as the landing of the ‘Fashion Cruise’ at the port of New York in 1956, when the most noble ladies of the Italian aristocracy, gathered aboard the transatlantic Christopher Columbus, made themselves ambassadors of Made in Italy overseas.
From the last geishas in Japan, to the lions of Africa, to the paradise of Polynesian beaches; from erupting Etna to the endless snows of the Pole and Siberia, his gaze was that of a witness. But for those who have travelled far and wide, the world must appear a very small place, which is why 1969 saw De Biasi up close and personal documenting the preparations for the Apollo 11 mission that would bring the first men to the lunar soil — the dream of a new frontier beyond our planet. New unexplored scenarios that De Biasi would surely have dreamed of investigating with his camera. From Milan to the Moon!"

Mario De Biasi was not a great football fan. Rather than support his favourite team, he certainly preferred to blend in the crowd, taking repeated photographs of parked cars, people, architectural structures, letting himself be guided by his infallible instincts. From time to time, however, his eye also shifted to the field. This photograph, dated 1955, immortalises the beginning of a match punctuated by a Milanese ritual. We see the players gathered in the midfield, while 11 children are delivering panettone to them.But what scene are we seeing? Let’s listen to Silvia De Biasi.

"Looking at this photo I think my father was attracted, in the first place, by the graphic construction evident within the frame, again taken from above. A perfect crossing of straight lines and curves. Dad also always said he had captured, in a single shot, four symbols of Milan: the opposing formations of the football teams Milan and Inter, on the legendary grass of San Siro, the Martinitt — boys from the historic Milanese orphanage — and the panettone. Historic Milan fans have recounted that twice a year, on the occasion of the derby, the young orphans of the school in Via Pitteri, the Martinitt, greeted the players with a sweet gift. On this occasion, the hospitality of Milan meets the great sport of Milan, bringing a symbolic product of the city’s entrepreneurship as a gift. On the back of the picture, my father wrote: "four times Milan," meaning Milan, Inter, Martinitt and panettone. His mind as a photographer, always on the move, perpetually at work, records all these complexities with a single ‘click,’ rendering them in an image that’s only seemingly simple.”

What attracts us to other people’s lives? Today social networks have made us accustomed to a constant display of the exceptional, alienating us from the intimacy of everyday life.
In an era like the fifties when social networks were still science fiction, Mario De Biasi sought a new normality after the devastating years of the war, finding it in the daily life of a typical Milanese girl next door. The photograph is one of about 20 shots in a reportage, of which the client and the identity of the young woman portrayed remain unknown.
Let’s listen to Maria Vittoria Baravelli, who will help us uncover more about this photograph and this fragment of life.

“This image, as well as the reportage of which it’s part, is evidence of a historic transition.While not adhering expressly to Neorealism, some instances of it pervade De Biasi’s work, since he devoted himself to documenting with equal enthusiasm, both the great events of history and their protagonists, and the small, insignificant world of everyday details. As for the latter, De Biasi’s images allow us to follow a young woman's day from the moment she gets up in the morning. In the course of her daily rituals, in front of our eyes, she follows a path around the symbolic places of a Milan whose marvels the girl gradually rediscovers. Here then is the Duomo, Teatro Alla Scala, the Castello Sforzesco, Michelangelo’s Rondanini Pietà, but also, as in this case, the shop windows. From one image to the next, every girl could, and still can, see herself in this normal life. And Milan becomes the ideal backdrop to affirm these rediscovered everyday rhythms, but also with a sense of possibility for it is, in fact, yesterday as today, the city of opportunities where anything can happen.”

Between the end of the 19th century and the early 20th century, if you had wanted to leave Milan to reach outlying places such as Vaprio, Saronno, Lodi or Monza, you would surely have taken a steam locomotive shrouded in the pungent smell of smoke. These trains were affectionately called “Gamba de Legn,” meaning “wooden legs”, probably because of their slow, limping pace. Of the many in operation, the last remaining one, the Milano-Magenta service, was retired in 1957. As witnesses of a Milan that no longer exists, these locomotives caught the attention and imagination of Mario De Biasi.Silvia De Biasi takes us behind the lens with her father.

“In 1951 my father documented the path of the Gamba de Legn in a reportage he made for his own personal interest. Positioning himself at the exit of the depot in Corso Vercelli, he immortalised the puff of smoke of the locomotive by choosing a shot from above, as he did many other times, turning this view into his distinctive feature. When others asked him for advice on how to take a good picture, he often replied: ‘First, go up high and look from there.’ In addition to being a historical document, this photo is also important for another reason: it is one of the first Mondadori chose for publication. It was the beginning of a long, successful collaboration with the publisher that saw my father always in the ‘front line,’ in every corner of the world, among the main photojournalists hired by the magazine Epoca.
His reliability, his tenacity in bringing a service home, his always-go-further attitude were some of his qualities that were particularly appreciated by Mondadori, which employed my father as a professional photographer for years."

The best way to take in Milan at a glance is to see it from above. Even Mario De Biasi who had made the city his home, was convinced of this.
Stop for a moment to observe the photograph. Do you recognize the scene of this image? It's the terraces of the Duomo: After all, who if not the Madonna enjoys the most impressive view of the city! In the enchanting context of the spires, backs to the camera, a modestly-dressed man and woman admire the view towards the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. The photographer was attracted by one element in particular: the woman had taken off her shoes and placed them neatly next to her. Silvia De Biasi’s story continues.

“My father returned to Milan from Nuremberg in 1946 and resumed his work at Magneti Marelli. It was in those years that the city entered his life. He discovered it little by little, walking or cycling. Milan was practically the only setting he had available, and the insatiable curiosity that had always distinguished him led him to photograph everything! Intrigued as he was by it all, he had no choice but to focus his gaze on the Duomo, symbol of the city. This was about 1952, and after the destruction of the war Milan was finally rising again and even the tourists were returning.On the back of this photo, my father noted: "Tourists on their honeymoon in Milan, or tight shoes". His eye could grasp detail in a glance, and this ability became the driver of his profession as a photojournalist. In this image, which is part of a long series of photographs dedicated to the Duomo and its visitors, the detail of the shoes becomes an opportunity to tell a fragment of history that’s so significant, even in its apparent marginality, to allow us to infer the story of a city and an entire epoch in it."

Have you ever rediscovered, after years, an old photograph pasted on the cardboard page of an album? A simple image can suddenly bring back unexpected memories, almost as if it wanted to talk to us.
Here De Biasi chooses himself as the subject; the well-fastened raincoat, his hair a bit ruffled, but above all... a camera in his hands. That instrument, as Bruno Munari said, would become a natural extension of his own person.Silvia De Biasi, the photographer’s daughter and co-curator of this exhibition, reveals the beginnings of the young photographer.

“This photo is particularly significant to me. I discovered its story myself only after my father’s death, tidying up his vast archive. What you see is his first self-portrait, taken in 1945 in Nuremberg, Germany. My father is looking at the camera with an expression somewhere between desire and respect: he’s madly in love with it. Next to the image, we see written, "My dream is here" in German and Italian, alongside the small drawing of a camera.My father was born in 1923 in a small village just outside Belluno. Orphaned at the age of ten, he moved to Milan, where he earned a diploma as a radio technician and then worked at Magneti Marelli in Sesto San Giovanni. In 1944, right in the middle of war, he was sent to do forced labour at Siemens in Nuremberg. There, among the rubble of the bombed city, he found some photographic paper, some chemical developers and a book on photography. That was enough to trigger his deepest curiosity.He was lucky to discover that the person who took him into his home was an enthusiast of photography, who could provide him with his first technical rudiments. As a self-taught beginner, my father instantly understood that photography was his passion... his dream!Everything began from this dream-turned-reality."

“Welcome, I’m Nadia Righi, director of the Carlo Maria Martini Diocesan Museum, where we are today. In recent years the museum has given greater attention to the language of photography and, continuing in this vein, we commemorate the centenary of the birth of Mario De Biasi with this exhibition. Through his great talent, his extraordinary technical competence, his insatiable curiosity as man and artist, De Biasi saw Milan with a profoundly new and interesting eye, capturing the most poetic aspects of everyday life.
It therefore seems only right that his adoptive city pays homage to him in the halls of this museum, which has always been connected to Milan and its inhabitants.So attentive to the great facts of history as he found himself travelling the world, De Biasi instead shows a more intimate and authentically human dimension here. In a fast-paced city like ours, he asks us to slow down, suggesting his way of seeing things and inviting us to discover his own desire to know within ourselves.I hope you have a pleasant visit.

To explore the world through the eyes of photographer Mario De Biasi is to be immersed in a galaxy of images — images shot in a lifetime of 90 years, almost 70 of which were devoted to photography. Through the lens of his camera — he always had three or four around his neck wherever he went — De Biasi set himself the difficult challenge of capturing everything around him, and organizing it according to his personal mental categories.
Mondadori Portfolio, the photography division of the Mondadori Group — the publisher to whom De Biasi dedicated his career — has collected, enhanced and digitized a fundamental core of his vast archive, a faithful mirror of the world.
Together with the photographer’s daughter Silvia De Biasi, the exhibition co-curator Maria Vittoria Baravelli will guide our first steps through the work of this giant of 20th century photography.
“It’s true that Mario De Biasi was an absolute "globetrotter," as his wife called him. But after every trip he returned home to Milan which was always his real base camp! This exhibition is dedicated to the photographer’s vision of the city. His Milan is explored slowly, revealing something more about the eye of the observer in every detail, while simultaneously telling us more about who we were, and also, perhaps, about who we could and shall be. One might say that De Biasi really focused on desire, that is, the will to be there and to understand the places and times in which he lived.Do you know who De Biasi really was? A man who never considered himself a great photographer. On the contrary, he was always amazed by the attention that his work aroused in people. A man who perpetually nourished the innate curiosity towards the ’other,’ from which he always sought to learn and then share, giving all of himself and committing himself to the limit".

“Mario De Biasi and Milan. Special edition” is a Mondadori Portfolio project.We would like to thank Greenberg Traurig Santa Maria Studio Legale Associato, Modulnova, San Carlo, Graphicscalve e Litosud for their contributions which made this exhibition possible.