The lunar landscape

The samples were ready, the location programmed and the lighting prepared. In front of our eyes the California desert emerged, perfectly recreated in textures, colors and sensations. There were nerves, of course. Everything had to go as well as possible, since this would be the letter of introduction of a new stage, a new collection and a new story to tell.

I had not forgotten my promise: I would tell the team about my visit to the Kaufmann house at lunchtime. We worked painstakingly, absorbed in the objects we had so lovingly designed. The sum of the perspectives ensured that no detail was neglected. Time flew by, although it seemed to stop in front of the computer: the screen was revealing the effect of the flash on the objects, and we were all very happy and proud of what was becoming the final result.

Finally, hunger got the better of us. We stopped for lunch at the restaurant next door, at a large long table we had reserved. I sat at the head of the table and tried to avoid the stares of my companions, who were already bordering on impatience rather than expectation.

-My friend, I think you promised us something," said Martina, sitting down next to me.

-Yes! We want to know the end of the story," said Sofia.

-Are you sure? I wanted to wait to finish dessert... - I answered, smiling at the expressions of the others.

And while we waited to be served, I moved once again to Palm Springs, to the desert house.

 

***

 

Richard Neutra, architect of the Kaufmann house, had compared the landscape where he had built the foundations of the house as a "lunar landscape". Perhaps only Neil Armstrong could prove him right, but the reality was that the desert was the protagonist of the scene. Large boulders surrounded the construction, interrupted from time to time by small cacti, thistles and patches of vegetation.

We stopped the car in front of the house. Max's eyes looked like saucers.

The curves of the rocks seemed to merge with the straight lines of the construction. Steel, glass and stone acted as old companions, blending together and creating a unique harmony. The desert began where the house ended, or perhaps it was the other way around. Building and landscape acted as a single unit.

There was a different energy in the place. The peace of the desert covered everything.

Max was taking pictures as if hypnotized.

Escape the winter. That had been the goal Edgar Kaufmann had given Neutra when designing the house. Winters in Pittsburgh were harsh, and the desert presented the ideal opportunity to steal a little warmth in the cold months. Neutra was clear: the desert and its colors should also enter the house and act as an extension of the building.

-Can we go in? - I asked.

-No, it's private property," Max replied.

An idea sparked in my head. I walked up to the gate of the building, looked for the bell and rang.

-What are you doing? - Max said to me, trying to suppress a cry of indignation.

-It doesn't hurt to try, does it?

We waited for a few minutes. No one seemed to be home.

Just as we had given up, there was a chirp on the loudspeaker and a voice.

-Hello?

I beat Max to the doorbell. I began to explain the purpose of our photography class assignment and how we wanted to recreate Slim Aarons' photo from his original perspective. When I finished, there was a silence that seemed to go on forever and a sigh.

-You have five minutes.

The gate opened. We looked at each other. Max's eyes glowed as if lit by a fire of emotion.

 

 

-What does this photo mean to you? - I asked Max as he finished setting up the tripod.

He stopped and looked at me, thoughtful.

-For me, he is the symbol of the American dream. That anyone, with hard work and perseverance, can achieve their dreams. He not only portrayed Grace Kelly, Humphrey Bogart or Marilyn Monroe, but he allowed the rest of us to dream that anything was possible. And I have achieved a dream today, Manuela. I never thought I could get into this house. And I have been able to, thanks to you.

After looking through the viewfinder and adjusting the focus, he pressed the shutter and the camera clicked.