I met Diego Cascio by chance in Rome. A few times a year, I would visit Italy while our daughter was getting her degree at John Cabot University in Trastevere. Where I was staying, the walls were filled with dozens of incredible black-and-white photos. On maybe my third visit, we met for coffee and Diego told me about his dad, Calogero Cascio, and gave me a book of his photographs. I continued to visit and rent his apartment and we became friends. It turns out, his father was one of the most respected photographers in Italy through the 1950s, ’60s and ’70’s, working on the staff at Il Mondo and L’Espresso before opening the RealPhoto agency in 1963. Diego has continued his dad’s media legacy with a new project around food, wine and travel in Sicily called mywonderfulsicily.com.
Did you grow up in Sicily?
Actually, I was born and raised in Rome! My father was Sicilian, so as a child, Sicily represented the roots of his side of the family—with all those classic but very real characters like my grandmother, aunts, the whole family and, of course, the food—especially certain dishes. Like, have you ever made tomato sauce in the summer and let it sit in bottles for a few months before you could eat it? I only started visiting Sicily around age 8, and only during summer vacations—my dad had a rather conflicted relationship with Sicily.
Just imagine, in 1963, after being away for more than 10 years, he wrote: “I’m here in Palermo, in Sicily, which isn’t Europe and isn’t Africa, it’s simply Sicily […]. Sicilians, to be honest, are a bit proud of this distance, and I, being Sicilian, know it well. But I know it now that I’m here, now that I’ve returned to this land of mine that I wish I could just love a little less and hate a lot less. It’s strange, but when I’m far from it, I long to see it again, and then, when I do, I want to escape—but I can’t.”
Eventually, things changed. I’d say I feel one-third Sicilian. The other two-thirds are evenly split: “Mediterranean mix” from my mom’s side and, inevitably, Roman.
When I was a kid, I really wanted to be a photojournalist—not so much for the photography part, but for the travel. I was fascinated by the idea of exploring the world and discovering new cultures.
Your first memories of your father and when did you understand his passion or work as a photographer?
My earliest memories of my dad are mostly feelings and emotions. That sense of protection he gave us—and not just because he used to be a doctor with a degree in medicine and an instinct for making people feel safe. When he came back from his travels around the world shooting photo reportages, he always brought us gifts—I still have some! And of course, I remember going with him—or with my mom and sister when he was away—to drop off or pick up film rolls at the lab. He’d get contact sheets made, which he would immediately check—driven not just by curiosity but almost by a vital need—and then he’d pick the shots to print, often marking them with a red pencil. And then, of course, the times he took us along with him to shoot photos! I think I realized fairly early what his work was!
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