It’s Tuscany, Jim, but not as we know it.

It’s Tuscany, Jim, but not as we know it.

Lunigiana — a photographer’s perspective on its beauty and its challenges.

La Lunigiana — once seen, never forgotten …

An introduction to the territory

People frequently ask me which part of Italy it is that I live in and, when I reply, “Tuscany,” I can almost see them visualising images of rolling, vineyard-covered hillsides dotted with terracotta-roofed farms and cypress-lined tracks winding up through ancient olive groves. They start talking about Florence, Siena and Pisa unaware that, north of Lucca lies a part of Tuscany that is similar only in the colour of its sky and in its endless days of sunshine. The northernmost end of this stretch of Tuscany, squeezed between Liguria and Emilia Romagna, is where I live, and is known as la Lunigiana.

This is not the part of Tuscany made famous by the Grand Tour, or the painters that followed it. There are no big cities here, just small towns, hilltop villages, and tons of history. This is an area typified by steep forested valleys that envelop mountain-fed streams and rivers with surprisingly wide watercourses that are all but dry for most of the year — but don’t let that fool you because they can change their complexion in the blink of an eye. The rain might be infrequent but, when it comes, it comes with a vengeance, as evidenced by the hundreds of fallen trees and enormous boulders that litter the riverbeds. There is, though, a special element that defines Lunigiana for me, and that’s the mountains (my love of mountains began on the day that I travelled far enough from Essex to discover that the world isn’t, in fact, flat). It was the mountains that brought me to this place; a place that is nearly as unknown to Italians as it is to the rest of the world.

The part of Lunigiana that I call home

The mountains form a high ring that embraces Lunigiana to create a mild microclimate that is particularly benevolent in the comune of Fivizzano. This is my adopted home. Territorially, it is one of Italy’s largest municipalities, stretching from the Apennine ridge in the northeast to the jagged summits of the Apuan Alps in the south. In Lunigiana, these two mountain ranges are separated by the Aulella river but the real shape of Fivizzano’s terrain is created by two of the Aulella’s tributaries: the Rosaro, flowing down from the Apennine mountains; and the Lucido, flowing out of the Apuan Alps. The Apennine may be higher but it’s the Apuane that lured me here, with their ragged outline of precipitous edges, pinnacles and properly pointed peaks — the very epitome of a mountain range.

Lunigiana — this embodiment of mountains, rivers and forest …

… basks in the ever-changing, ever-beautiful light that has made Tuscany such a magnet for artists. What more could a photographer ask for?

Mountains, water and trees in abundance. Such cornerstones of landscape photography should have me dancing on the terracotta rooftops. Except, this is not the UK. Things are different here. The UK’s history of land ownership, agriculture and legally protected rights of way has effectively turned it into a park. Lunigiana is still essentially an area of wilderness. There is an absence of large-scale land management. Small peasant-farms surround its tiny communities and, fortunately, only a small number of marble quarries continue to be worked on this side of the Apuan Alps. It’s true that the forest is managed as a source of sustainable firewood and timber but it is performed sensitively. For the most part, the forest is the impenetrable home of wild boar, deer and wolves. Waymarked paths are a rarity, apart from in the mountains where, even there, they are frequently impassable or simply disappear. There are no levees or riverside paths to wander along. The mountain streams are choked with debris and fallen trees from the violent storms that occur a few times each year and there are no large open spaces or solitary trees until you reach the high altitudes of the tree-line. Given the topography, one might expect to find some photogenic lakes or waterfalls but the area’s geography and geology are not favourable to the formation of either.

But it is these very qualities, this state of wilderness, that are the source of Lunigiana’s charisma. How refreshing it is to have a new environment to explore — a landscape that refuses to give up its unique beauty if simply approached in the same old way.

For me, the greatest challenge, when trying to do justice to Lunigiana’s ever-changing colours and emotions, is the unpredictability of the elements. Ironically, it’s the long periods of drought and blistering sunshine that are least suited to my fine-art landscape style. Heat-haze and unbroken blue skies are hardly conducive to capturing the kind of moody atmosphere that I endeavour to present. There’s no magic formula for calculating when a period of interesting weather might come, nor for how long it might last. Water in our mountain streams is ephemeral and short-lived. The only solution to these issues is dedication and perseverance.

Lunigiana is not just about the landscape, though

This is an area that is rich in wildlife — I saw more species of bee, butterfly and orchid in my first year of living here than in my entire life in the UK. Low-intensive farming methods mean we don’t suffer from the sort of species depletion that the UK is currently experiencing. Not only is this good for the environment, it is economically important, too, because Lunigiana is one of only two areas in Italy where honey has been granted DOP status. As a natural complement to fine-art landscapes, wildlife is the other subject that forms the bulk of my artistic output — or, more specifically, fine-art close-up images of nature’s smaller organisms — and the wonderful thing about such creatures is that they are out and about in exactly the kind of weather that is not so great for photographing landscapes.

Parting shot

So far, my article has focused purely on the landscape and nature of this beautiful part of Tuscany but that’s not all Lunigiana has to offer. As I referenced briefly in my introduction, this is an area that is steeped in history — particularly that of the middle ages. Lunigiana is often described as the Land of a Thousand Castles. Many of them are now just ruins but some are still lived in by the descendants of those medieval families and several others have been restored as historic monuments and museums. Picturesque medieval bridges abound throughout the territory and, every year, each of the main historic centres puts on a fabulous re-enactment of the famous battles and events that shaped it. No matter what kind of photography you’re into, Lunigiana has something for you.

Nigel Fawcett

One of the many benefits of being retired is that I get to spend so much more time in the great outdoors, not only as a photographer but in exercising one of my other great passions — hill walking. This is a particularly good fit when one’s photography centres around nature and the landscape. There can be few better places to do that than here in the beautiful mountains of Tuscany.