Adam Broomberg
& Oliver Chanarin

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli

This series of photographs was taken by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin in 2004 in Milo, a small town on the slopes of Mount Etna. In these images, Milo appears to be held together and propped up by hundreds of scaffoldings, in a state of disturbing fragility caused by the earthquake that shook its ground some months earlier. The scaffolds cover facades, occupy streets, stretch and span between buildings. This technique of holding up constructions to prevent them from falling down has a name in Italian: the verb puntellare, which means to prop-up, shore-up, to support. What one sees in Milo, is an agglomeration of buildings being sustained after a dramatic event but also, by repercussion, on the brink of another impending disaster. The presence of the scaffolds also stands, by implication, for that of the earthquake, as it works as a constant reminder of the calamity that took place here, proportionally to it; it stretches this moment of crisis to our present, as a tangible, unwelcome companion to the city. What will happen is still uncertain, as while the scaffoldings supports it in a temporary status quo, Milo – and ourselves- must await for possible settlements and the actual, long-term consequences of the earthquake; the situation with its temporary supports forcing an openness to possible resolutions, indefinitely. The buildings are awaiting restoration, but they might be beyond repair; demolished or replaced, they could stay like this for a very long time...
Exergue by Celine Conderelli