This work by Cristian Chironi could have been titled Rew or Backwords. It is a journey backwards in time through the image that does not appeal to memory. Just sailing, inhabiting frames, possible reconstructions, mental projections.
The concept is simple: a selection of 7 photographs portraying his father, a passionate football player in different sides (Oranese Calcio and others), posing with team and coach. Group photos belonging to different years, presumably 1980, 1978, 1971, 1968, 1962... full scale, where a living player sets in: Cristian Chironi.  
The tepid screeching of a three-dimensional element overlapping the flat image of a poster - although on a consistent scale - does not aim at deceiving. Poster is not a trompe l'oeil, it is a game of experiential crossing. A manic one perhaps? To a certain extent it is, because C.C. played thoroughly, recreating the sports clothes of each photograph and period and delving into the micro-variations of costume - and consequently into the cultural changes - of a small village of central Sardinia.  
A sound, several sounds (evocative, environmental ones, historical audio documents), but silences as well fill with time the images following one another before the audience. A didactic description of the Parthenon's friezes comments on the rural statuesque posture of a hippy Apollo of a Torneo Bar team in the late seventies; the august cicadas of a Sardinia far from the shores make us sweat while we look at the team waiting still for the photo on the dusty soil; the news announcing Pasolini's death engenders a fast temporal zoom on the black and white of the team photo of 1975; the sound recording of a training pitch match with winking and signals between playmates lends density to a photograph bursting with almost ethnic folklore and serious dilettantism; Perchè Perchè la Domenica Mi Lasci Sempre Sola by Pavone comments the image (the only one) of two players (probably Chironi senior and his mate, who, at the time of this song, did not give up their sporting passion for love matters)

Illations.

Poster is not a slide show, but a performance, in which C.C. has the role of designer, maker and performer. Or, from a different perspective, he is director, protagonist, stage hand and individual. A process executed, as in the previous performances (Singer, Rowenta) systematically and without any theatrical affectation. There is nothing to feign: functionality and fluency in the execution. Clearness in moving in one's personal history.
C.C. enters the space and goes to the bench, drawing from a sporting bag the first uniform, which he then wears. Chewing-gum in his mouth (the only "real" element of the action, belonging to both times, the fiction time and the reality time: to the photograph and to the performing action).
The chewing-gum is the bridge between the two- and the three-dimensional, between yesterday and today and is the rhythm of the performance: intimate and everted rhythm. C.C. "enters" the first frame, gets on a transparent cube taking him on the players' level in the photo and poses for 60 seconds. His pose is specular to that of a character. A pose which is already designed, there is no invention. C.C. plays and watches his father, but is not his father (no transference); he is just a teammate.   
C.C. walks down the pedestal, seizes a staff and moves aside the first photo, showing the second one. Bench. Off with the white knee socks with the blue turn-up, off with his Adidas Gazzelle, and on he puts red t-shirt, black shorts, socks improperly rolled up and Superga shoes of the time. And so on, through a sporting vintage in the frames of this Italian province story verging on mawkishness as it goes back in time and freezing at zero year of the classic, working-class white singlet.
In this temporal sucking, the most evident chronological jump is the passage from colour to black and white. And to enter the frame, the performer, arrived at this explicit caesura from reproduction techniques, dives into a materially incompatible duality: the alleged orange of the black and white photograph becomes a grey t-shirt on the intruder during the performance.
With this visual solution, Chironi conveys that he is not interested in the reconstruction of reality, but rather in that of the image. Adherence between historical reconstruction and living present through an object (C.C. does not wear a grey t-shirt, but a b/w one). The choice of this "really impossible" register (impossibly real?) finally takes those present in a performative flash-back.
Then there are variations on the Representation. Several plastic attitudes, according to epoch and cultural models, the skids of which are perceived as the album in the form of poster unfolds. C.C. standing, side glance, crouched on the floor in the first row, hands on his private parts, with a slightly broken, swaggerer smile to a companion (with Poster, Cristian Chironi leaves his research into the feminine identity to explore masculine models).      
It is a process of in/out, to whose uncovered mechanicalness we gladly submit, because it succeeds in gaining the confidence of the audience that, once realized the rhythm, stops to look. We are no more used to dwelling on an image and this unusual hold-up introduces an "auteur" rhythm. C. C. clearly looks at images with those pauses, so do we. The stasis, the pose make the visual patrimony of each single viewer emerge. Individual and collective memory are projected on the freeze-frame of the tableaux vivants.
Again on adherence and detachment. In Poster, the performer enters and leaves the images just for a few instants, "wearing" face mask and clothes, which he later abandons to become an individual again. Yet, there is also another level of processing effective time: photographs part from our look. While turning over the photographic curtains one by one, ranging from recent colour, to the staggered chromatisms of the seventies, to the black and white and sandblasting of the fifties, the tableaux leave C.C. progressively alone, firmly planted on the pedestal, now further away from the photograph presented, as much as his psychology from that image and that story.
This is how the performance ends, with a figure re-entering the frame only in perspective: he is no more part of the 11 players-team that had hosted him in the previous frames but joins the two 1966 players, Chironi's father and his confirmation sponsor, forming a chronologically impossible, though reassembled family trio.
Yet, for the performance to be "completed", C.C. returns to the bench, wears his clothes and leaves.