Nonna’s Cam reminds us to slow down and appreciate creative mistakes (and our grandma)

It was a passion for “coming up with fresh, interesting ideas” that brought the creatives Augusto Callegari and Pedro Mezzini together. Now, they form the creative duo known as The Surfers, as well as being part of the team at the creative agency Lola MullenLowe.

Recently, Augusto and Pedro found themselves staring at a family photo – “we all have those nostalgic grey Sundays when we reminisce about old times,” says Augusto. “It didn’t matter whether the snapshots captured a wedding celebration, a summer vacation, or a child’s birthday, Grandma’s fingers overshadowed it all.” Reminded of Erik Kessels’ Attack of the Giant Finger project wherein a collection of places and people are obscured by “accidental fingers, mysterious thumbs, and vast palms”, Pedro and Augusto were inspired to create Nonna’s Cam – “a real grandmother’s analogue camera with a hyper-realistic finger partially covering the lens.”

As the finger is the central concept, finding the perfect digit was crucial. Conscious of the physicality and the central role the finger would play, it needed to mimic the texturised feeling of the real thing. At first, the pair nearly purchased a cheap magician’s thumb, but, in a twist of fate, it was out of stock – which led to them discovering a hyper-realistic finger in Germany. After attaching the finger to the camera, there was one final touch missing from the piece: “the addition of a gold ring at the base of the finger provided the perfect touch of glamour it needed. With that, the project finally came to life,” says Pedro.

The pair describe Nonna’s Camera as a “touching homage to our elders”. It’s also a reminder to administer grace, not just to the geriatric among us, but also to creative errors. “Accidental ‘mistakes’ can transform and elevate ordinary images into something captivating, intriguing, and even a bit eerie, inviting viewers to use their imaginations to complete the story,” says Augusto.

Faithful to the source material it’s replicating, some snaps are nearly entirely obscured. Sweeping landscapes are cut in half, faces are hidden as the finger interacts with the surroundings to produce unknown variables and leaving questions behind. “What are the elderly ladies by the shore gazing at — is a wave coming toward them? An overweight seagull? The man descending the stairs — where is he going?” Pedro says.

To ignore mistakes – unavoidable facets of life – is a kind of digital denialism. Why accept the quirks of the everyday when you could pay a dubious online service to remove all the blemishes? In a sense, the project is a middle finger to the digital promise of mathematical perfection and immunisation against defects, flaws, misprints, bumps, or, in this case – Nonna’s finger.

Reminding us of what’s really important, Pedro concludes: “In a world obsessed with flawless selfies and photoshopped pictures, we want to celebrate the beauty of imperfection. Embrace amateurism. These so-called 'mistakes' aren’t just quirks; for us, they’re (literally) fingerprints of our humanity.”