Invernaderos unfolds as a long-form photographic inquiry into the silent yet radical transformation of landscapes under the weight of industrial greenhouse farming. Since 2013, it has traced the expansion of these repetitive, regimented structures—architectures of glass and plastic whose uniformity imposes a new order on both rural and urban space. They spread not as isolated interventions but as vast, continuous territories, shaped by the invisible forces of climate, global trade, and political negotiation.
The journey follows a cartography of agricultural modernity: Liguria, where flower cultivation has long contested the surrounding landscape; the Netherlands, with its unparalleled density of controlled-environment agriculture; Spain’s El mar de plástico, a sea of polyethylene stretching over 200 square kilometers; and Calabria, where cultivated fields now lie in varying states of transformation or neglect. As Federico Nicolao writes, it seeks “to narrate a phenomenon that has the traits of the extraordinary and the everyday but that actually allows the photographic medium to identify more than a few similarities with the condition of man: from comfort to imprisonment, from care to exploitation, from promotion to abandonment, from consumption to free development, from isolation to community life.”