Tagada collects Paolo Zerbini’s photographs of various carnivals and fairs in rural Italy, made on film in the 2010s. I picked it up sorta by chance after visiting the publisher’s website to order a different book—Francesco Colleta’s ‘Foto Casti‘—which was, itself, an impulse purchase made after seeing a review somewhere. Given my love of theme parks and carnival rides, Tagada was a no brainer.

At the risk of this link/embed breaking because my unboxings somehow run afoul of the YouTube AI censors again… Here you go.

This was one of the last filmed before my earlier channel went bye bye and therefore adheres to the original format. If you’re familiar with my newer format, this might be a bit shocking.

Anyway.

I misread the book’s description and thought “Tagada” referred to a specific carnival or fair, but no… A tagada is a type of fair ground ride with a passing similarity to a Chance Rides “Trabant,” but without any sort of restraint system whatsoever. Riders board a circular platform and sit on lightly padded bench that runs around the inner perimeter of the ride. The platform spins and tilts and bounces according to operator whim, and riders bounce and flop about. Reports of broken limbs and deaths abound, and the ride is banned in the United States, Australia and elsewhere, which is probably why I was unfamiliar with it.

For more information, Coaster College has a nice overview. In my youth, I might wanna find one to ride; in my advanced age, I know it’s a bit beyond what my body can handle and I’d happily watch and hope to get a good photograph or two.

For the book, Zerbini spent several years traveling to fairs and carnivals around Italy. His premise seems to be the sort of coming of age that pre- and young teenagers go through at fairs, and most photographs feature young people having fun and/or posing around various rides and games. I’m older now than most of the their parents, but probably not quite old enough to be a grandparent, and I viscerally remember the Keller fair, the State Fair of Texas, the midway at the Fat Stock Show and Rodeo, and elsewhere. I still visit midways at bigger events, if only to photograph, and I have strong memories of: Uncle JC, who always gave me a quarter to spend at the fair, long after a quarter wasn’t worth much of anything at; of bruising ribs and hips on the tiny, janky roller coasters; of spending all the money I had, throwing dart after dart at balloons, to score a $4 stuffed animal that I then had to carry around for two or three hours.

Zerbini organized Tagada around a day at the fair: morning light over the midway as the sleepy rides and stalls come to life; kids walking to the fair; mid day hanging around and starting to gather a bit; a series of photographs of closed snack stands seem to indicate siesta; and then the crowds return, gathering steam as the sun goes down. The book ends with a night shot of part of a colorful entrance, flanked by a wildly overflowing garbage can. Overall, the layout works, though one feature put me off a bit in my earliest flipthroughs.

The pictures appear full bleed, mostly in portrait orientation like the book itself. Horizontal photos show up a few times, which isn’t a problem, but there seems to be no rhyme or reason to their orientation (left 90°, right 90°, both on one spread, one or the other paired with a vertically oriented print). This throws off my expectations and sorta twists and turns my brain around… much like I guess a tagada ride would. So… no complaint after all: I get it and it works. Kudos to Zerbini (and his editors: Luca Guarini co-edited; Francesco Valtoline and Nicola Narbone designed).

The topsy turvy ride continues in a brief essay at the end, from Francesco Zanot, which proceeds much like my own: a discussion of the ride, the making of the photographs, some discussion of what they might mean (and which is sorta absent from my own), and a description of the layout (which missed the siesta aspect, and which probably subconsciously informed my own reading). Some further commentary adds a nice sense of disorientation, with references to Kubric films, bad dance music, Hamony Korine and Ryan McGinley, and repeated slippage between Tagata (the ride) and Tagata the book. Good stuff, and a more or less fitting end to the book.

Overall, Tagada rates a solid 4.5 stars.

Sadly, Skinnerboox reports Tagada as out of stock. Shame on me, I guess, for taking so long to get back to review it. Oh well, and apologies. It’s a good one, I think, and it fits with various genres in my collection. If you find a copy in a used bookstore, snag it and enjoy the ride.

And, no, you can’t have mine.

I don’t know how or from where Piergiorgio Casotti & Emanuele Brutti’s Index G came on my radar. Jörg Colberg was my first guess, and if so, I find no mention of Casotti or Brutti or the title on his blog. It wasn’t @swerdnaekalb either, nor was it Charcoal Book Club…. Maybe it was something on Instagram when I still scrolled it or maybe I saw it on the Skinnerboox website when I ordered Daniel Reuter’s Providencia and couldn’t resist?

Apologies. Unboxing and Flip-through videos are all gone and any links to them are broken. I know these were helpful and I apologize for any inconvenience.

I pulled Daniel Reuter’s Providencia off the to-review shelves largely based on the attractive spine (gold lettering against mottled/variegated grey :chef’s kiss:). I don’t remember the circumstances around acquiring it, and expect I bought it based on Jorg Colberg’s review. I encourage you to read Colberg’s take, as mine is likely to be much more wishy-washy and banal. Apologies in advance, dear reader, and to Reuter as well.

tl;dr: I regret purchasing Glen Luchford’s Roseland. This feeling is a first for me, I think. The photography would be interesting and potentially of historical interest, but it’s entirely ruined by very poor layout and printing decisions.

If you want to continue on, please feel free…. If they come out with a repaired edition—perhaps one printed in landscape orientation or square or something where the subject (Kate Moss) isn’t swallowed by the gutter—it might be worth picking up. Stay far, far away from this book.

I discovered Stephen Leslie thanks to (if I recall) Alec Soth, who praised Leslie’s Show & Tell series on YouTube, and if you’re not familiar with Soth’s or Leslie’s YouTube channels, do yourself a favor. Despite being on a photobook buying hiatus, I leapt into action as soon as he announced the Kickstarter, and despite not knowing much about his actual photographic practice. Unlike most other books I bought during my (ongoing) photobook-buying moratorium, I had and have no regrets whatsoever…

Full disclosure: as you may have gathered, I kickstartered Mostly False Reports, Stephen Leslie‘s excellent, photobook-of-the-year 2023 runner up, if not grand prize winner.*

One thing on the Kickstart itself. In its earliest days, shipping fees weren’t appropriately calculated for US purchasers. Leslie reached out to backers and asked that we update our pledges to cover the cost. I updated my pledge; some/many others did not. I felt bad and sent Leslie a bit of cash to cover shipping for a few people. In return—he didn’t have to, and I didn’t expect it—he included a zine “Hereabouts” and 3 large print/greeting cards in the package. I am indeed blessed.

Ok. With that over with, on with the review.

Leslie is a capital-S, capital-A Street Photographer. I’d go so far as to call him a street photographer’s Street Photographer. Gestures, glances, interesting faces and stances? He’s got it. Strange sights, puns, jokes? He’s got them. Repetitions, series, mini-projects? They’re all here, and mostly shot while walking (or driving) on the street. Matt Stuart and Charlie Kirk spring to mind out of a failure of imagination more than anything, and Leslie holds his own without question. How have I never stumbled across his work before?

To be honest, though, as good as the photography is—and it’s great: page after page of well-paced bangers—what really grabs me, and why Mostly False Reports sits at the top of my (nonexistent) best-of list for 2023, are the short stories that accompany each picture.

Nearly every spread has one picture on the right and a short story (or statement, or chat dialogue, or whatever) on the right. Some of these go on for a couple of pages. Most are hilariously funny; some are a bit sad or strangely nostalgic (ymmv); a few seem to be more straight-ahead self examination, wonders about the craft, reminiscences, and the like, which may also be fiction. I hope at least some of them are….

Regular readers of this blog—if you even exist, thank you!—know that I’m a sucker for books that combine image and text. It’s not easy to pull off, really. Some photographers can’t really write; some writers can’t really photograph; some trigger my logophilia and make it impossible to see the photographs, for good or ill. Leslie pulls it off wonderfully, with great writing, mostly hilarious, some more poignant, and excellent, well-seen Street Photography.

Overall, Mostly False Reports earns a highly recommended, go buy one now 4.85 stars.

Strangely, I believe Leslie has copies available. His website says “You can buy a copy for £30 from me here, just send me a message via the contact page or send me a message via my Instagram.” If you haven’t already, go buy a copy now. It’s sure to eventually sell out. If you’re cynical, you should buy one just to resell for a huge profit once they do sell out; the rest of you should add it to your library for some inspiration and just to wonder at and about. Mostly False Reports is a masterwork.

Before I forget, and mostly as an aside, the “Hereabouts” zine is likewise a bit of excellence. According to the end matter, “All of these photographs were taken within walking distance of my [Leslie’s] home. …as I walked around Brokley, Nunhead, Peckham, Greenwich and Lewisham.” This seems like a pretty large area, really, especially to a Texan, but then we Texans don’t walk much, compared to people in the UK. I don’t have much more to say about it. Great stuff. If you find a copy, snatch it up.

*There is no 2023 best-of list on this blog. Apologies. I haven’t looked at enough photobooks to warrant a best-of list.