This project is the result of a collection of testimonies begun in 2019 that were taken directly from the people who animate Italy’s incredibly unique five lands, the Cinque Terre.
A broad spectrum of stories have been included: those recounting mundane routines, timeless memories, fascinating current events and sometimes surprising juxtapositions. In these stories we can all recognize at least a small part of ourselves.
They are human stories that belong to the men and women who live, walk, eat, work, and love one another in one of the most well-known yet largely ignored corners of the world.
Inspired by Brandon Stanton’s Humans of New York, the interviews we collected are matched with unique artistic photo portraits, and contribute to save the oral traditions of this amazing part of the world.
In this website you’ll be able to read 25 stories: the remaining 25 will be available in the book on sale on Kickstarter.
Humans of Cinque Terre fosters the vision of a slow-tourism, by depicting the daily life of people in Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza and Monterosso.
Discover all the Humans that live in the place where the next Pixar’s movie Luca is set by buying the hand-curated artisticbook on Kickstarter!
Before walking the medieval lanes in Riomaggiore and Monterosso, before heading up to San Bernardino from Corniglia, before walking along the trails and underpasses that connect Vernazza and Monterosso, I was convinced that this would be a project about the sea.
I imagined a cover eroded by brackish water and the stories within it exuding salt. Instead, I now realize that this is above all a project about the earth. There are people who live here and witness the sea daily as an enchanting backdrop, but one with which they could do without. It is the cian, the terraced fields, that are essential to the Cinque Terre and sculpt this landscape into something unique and unlike any other place on the planet. Its inhabitants are honest, proud, inhospitable — in a word, authentic — and an intangible heritage reaching far beyond the postcard images of colorful fishermen’s houses.