One day back in July 1994, a strange individual appeared, or rather stationed himself, on the main street of the island - which, in most countries, is named after the capital but is named on the island after one of its musicians, inhabitants and great benefactors Ugo Ara. I don't mean 'strange' in the disparaging sense of 'that's all we need!', but strange because of his dress which I found irritating. There was no doubt in my mind that this was a foreigner of Teutonic origin because only a 'German' could have decked himself out in a fake Panama hat, bold-coloured shorts, black socks and walking shoes.
But all my aesthetic sensibilities were mollified by the way he conducted his inquiries - the simple but studied manner in which he expressed himself, his perspicacious questions and his way of looking people straight in the eye. And then there were his eyes with their blend of candour and vivacity, allied with his respectful approach to dealing with others. It was these two factors which paved the way for establishing a relationship of acceptance, not only between the author and the writer of these lines, but also with most of the inhabitants of the Isola Superiore 'dei Pescatori' And such a relationship could by no means have been taken for granted!
This meeting gave rise to the idea for the book, a project which grew and developed with each passing day, as if those who took a hand in its execution (from the colour they gave to their pictures) were participants in a magic game or an extraordinary event which transcended their will.
Indeed, to my way of thinking, this is much more than a book which merely portrays faces. I would call it a historical document in that it records reality as it was in Summer 1994, and because it is a genuine treatise on social anthropology. Behind each face there is a story, a destiny, a soul. An individuality which finds a way of expressing itself on the island where, at least, it has found a more or less voluntary refuge for a certain period of time in this little corner of the universe. So many personalities dovetailed with each other, like living pieces of a big metaphorical Chinese box called Isola dei Pescatori.
Thus, by looking at a face, you get to know just a little more about this person and his habitat. However, the major absentee among the faces represented is Amadeo himself because it was thanks to him that this investigation and testimony were accomplished.
As from the summer of 1994, this personality can feel he is half an islander himself, in that he has given ample proof of being smitten by 'islomania', a disease which L. Durrell describes a follows: 'I once found a list of diseases as yet unclassified by medical science, and among these there occurred the word 'Islomania' which was described as a rare but by no means unknown affliction of spirit. There are people who find islands somehow irresistible. The mere knowledge that they are on an island, a little world surrounded by the sea, fills them with an indescribable intoxication. These born 'islomanes' are the direct descendants of the Atlanteans, and it is towards the lost Atlantis that their subconscious yearns throughout their island life.'
Renato Minocci