ML Magazine - Motorsport and Life Magazine - V. 2 - English Version

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# 2 ENG

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ď‚— Cover: Fabio Quartararo photographed by Mirco Lazzari

A l i f e w i t h o u t e m o t i on s i s a h a l f - l i ve d l i f e .

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Mirco Lazzari ď‚– Ambiance, Grid Girls backstage in Buriram Circuit Thailand Nikon D5 Nikkor 600 4 ď‚– 1/2000 f 5.6

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Mirco Lazzari ď‚– Ducati aerodinamics Motorland Aragon Spain Nikon D5 Nikkor 600 4 and 1.4 teleconverter ď‚– 1/1250 f 5,6

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Mirco Lazzari  Tokyo night colors, Japan Nikon D5 Nikkor 105 1.4  1 / 2,5 f 11

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m o t o r s p o r t an d l i f e

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#2 summary 4

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1 4 ( M i r c o ’ s s p ee c h ) 1 6 ( Ra c e q u een ) 28 (hAgibis) 4 4 ( f i l m i ng d a y ) 56 (portraits) 6 2 ( m a s t e r & r a i d e r s ) 6 8 ( f a b i o ) 8 2 ( r o l l e r c oa s t e r ) 9 3 ( t h e c h a m p )

( M i r c o ’ s

s p ee c h )

Ours is certainly a beautiful job, for me the most beautiful in the world: telling stories through the camera, the moments, the emotions... living them. It allows you to travel, learn about different places... and people. Maybe young guys, very young; see them grow and grow further with them. Riders. Even if they see you more experienced, “old”, they laugh and joke with you. Sometimes they trust you and sometimes a feeling born and you can tell about their career, or at least a part on a fast track.

On Sunday in Thailand, in Buriram, I did something that a professional shouldn’t do: getting excited. I lived the last laps of the grand prix, not photographed them. They were all there, where Marc would have celebrated the title later: my motivation was to tell the last three rounds of the fan club and capture their emotions. Actually I was more excited than them and there were those two guys, on the track, one struggling regardless of the title he had

quietly in his pocket and the other focusing in not making any mistake: those two guys I had the luck to know almost from the beginning of their careers in the world championship, they were giving me another more lesson: never give up! ⚍

Mirco L azzari

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q u een )


Pictures from the exhibition RACE QUEEN Spazio 212  Bologna  Italy

( Ma l i c e i s i n t h e e y e s o f t h o s e w h o l oo k a t u s ) The mirror silently reflects my image, while out there the clamor of the crowded, dressed up racetrack wraps the muffled walls of the motorhome. Eye in the eye with myself, I swallow a sigh and send it down to my heart: I hear it frantically knocking inside my generous breasts and merging with the beat coming from the door. “Girls! Are you ready? Two minutes!” The heart recoils and accelerates like an engine on the test bed. Here we are, preparation time is up! One last, very quick check... I spin again and again and Ok, the skirt fits like a glove, and thank goodness today is sunny and I can enjoy the day... last time it was cold! there was wind and rain, livid legs, goose bumps and... the umbrella! that greeted the audience from the starting line waving like a kite! So hard to hold! I have to tighten my sandals, they are a bit big for me, but that’s what I have and I’ll have to make it work for the season... I’ll walk casually and be very careful not to stumble. I’m adjusting my long hair, moving three locks on my chest, or rather two, because the collier brought by the sponsor must be in plain sight. And what about makeup...? It is perfect as it is, in mitigating the signs of the emotion that kept me awake all night. It always happens, before every race. And to think that we are supposed to be fairies for the riders we accompany, called to bestow smiles and joy and to bring serenity and

luck-they are all so superstitious!... if only they could imagine the fire we bear inside every Sunday, knowing that we have millions of eyes of all shapes and colors looking at us! “How do I look?” We look at each other with complicity, we check each other out, we gain courage. You look amazing! So do you! Where are the umbrellas? There in the box, next to the gloves. Did you take your pass? You left it in the bathroom while you were fixing your belly button piercing and, wait, hide your tattoo better, you know the sponsor doesn’t want it to be seen. I lay the last veil of lipstick on my lips and send myself a comforting kiss. Gloves, umbrellas... let’s begin. The door of the motorhome opens up and the dazzling light of the sun invests us, while a liquid skyline of heads, caps and flags expands endlessly through the paddock. The three drops of perfume that I sprayed on my neck give themselves to the air, which is already filled with fuel, tires and barbecue... finally, I recognize this friendly and family fragrance; it welcomes me, it makes me feel at home. We walk orderly, in a row, all the same, all different, towards the box with our sponsors, our riders, splendid, smiling in photos stolen in the chaotic noise of the fans. Take a selfie with me! A photo! May I? Of course! It’s so nice when they ask you, even if they know it’s the main reason why you’re there! 

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( . . . c on t i n u e s

 Education and respect should never be taken for granted, a hand laid somewhere I don’t like, an upskirt photograph, taken without asking me first... but the ignorance of those who don’t have any respect, that exists, alas!, in every work environment, not just here. A smile, a pose, click! An eye blinks, and my photo is already in the hyperspace of a simple social-media wall, or on the glossy cover of a well-known magazine! I breathe the box and its heady scent, ready to reach the starting grid. My rider is already absorbed, suspended in his parallel world, his body hinged in a second skin, his skull enclosed in a second skull, his legs tied to his mechanical lover, seduced by the call of the siren that thunders in the pit lane. I’m tense with him, for him, for me... I’ll see him again soon on the grid. I set off with the whole team along with tires and starters. The stands are covered in noisy colored dots, echo mimics the speakers. One smile for us girls, good luck to all of us! I go next to “my” bike and “my” rider, open smile and open umbrella. I let my eyes-my thick, long eyelashes-romancing the lens of the photographers, internationally renowned professionals accustomed to immortalize famous people, like the world champions. In these months, I have learned to know them and I am grateful to them, who make me a

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citizen of the world with their photos. They played their part, in making me somewhat famous, and only I can know just how proud I am of it. A live-streaming camera closes up on me, insists on me. I smile happily to my mother, who’s sitting in the kitchen looking at me from a part of the world where it is already nighttime. In a moment, my life goes back and forth, I, still failing to believe I am part of this huge circus. I, who started doing this for fun, and to pay for school. Me, my mom supporting me, my die-hard fan. I, my boyfriend who didn’t want me to do this, who mistook selling one’s beauty with selling one’s body. He, champion of the anti-sexist movement, in that historic moment when the #MeToo tsunami was sweeping my Formula 1 colleagues away from the grid forever. I, who was never forced to do this beautiful job. And I defend it with my heart and soul; I, calm in asking for respect, the same that has to be and will always have to be there, even when I’ll be a good pediatrician. Because in my profession malice is in the eyes of those who look at me. We are a circus that needs all its animals, all its noises and its colors. We are the indispensable ephemeral, we are the grid girls. ⚫ Alice Margaria

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( h ag i b i s ) ( t o k y o )


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( t o k y o ) ( r e s p e c t )

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( f i l m i ng

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ď‚— This page: Valentino Rossi in Tavullia Next page: Alex and Marc Marquez fishing before Aragon GP

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ď‚— This page: Jorge Lorenzo and Cal Crutchlow poses in Bangkok on top of King Power MahaNakon Tower Next page: Tatsuki Suzuki portrait in TeamLabs Digital Art Museum in Tokyo

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ď‚— Left and right page: Riders during the pre-event in Tokyo , TeamLabs Digital Art Museum

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( p o r t r a i t s )


ď‚— Guillem Carrillo waiting Marc Marquez before the Buriram celebration

ď‚— Left page: Piero Taramasso portrait Right page: Valentino Rossi during press conference in Buriram

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ď‚— Left page: Hiroshi Aoyama in box Right page: Steven Odendaal and his wife on grid before a start race

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( Ma s t e r & R i d e r s ) ( c h e f s )


ď‚— Left page: Marcos Ramirez and Vincenzo Cuomo Right page: Lorenzo Dalla Porta and Pietro Matarazzo

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I was born on September 15, 1988, in a small town, Vitulano, in the province of Benevento. What about me? Suffice to say I am the head chef for team Leopard. I’d want to use this time to thank and commend everybody who works day and night behind the scenes of the MotoGP, cooks, waiters, riders, photographers, mechanics, team leaders and every single soul who contributes to the making of this show with passion and sacrifice. As a former ballet dancer, I can assure you that behind a great show, there is always a great production. Thank you all!! ⚍ Pietro Matarazzo

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( f a b i o ) ( q u a r t a r a r o )


ï‚— Haneda Airport, Tokyo, 17 Sept 2016

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ď‚— Left page: in action during Buriram race, 6 Oct 2019 Right page: Paris Metro, 14 May 2019

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ï‚— Left page: Chateau du Ludie, 4 May 2016 Right page: Fabio... on tour!

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ď‚— Left and right page: backstage before Buriram Pole, 5 Oct 2019 Next page: in action in Motegi, 18 Oct 2019

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( r o l l e r ( m a r c

c oa s t e r ) m a r q u e z )


ď‚— Left page: Marquez during pre-race press conference between Rossi and Quartararo Right page: Hot race in Buriram Next page: Crash, free practice 1, Friday 4th October 2019

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ď‚— Roller coaster, 8th World Title from 2010, 6th in MotoGP Class

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ď‚— Celebration for the 8th World Title from 2010

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( t h e ( 2 0 1 9

c ham p) m o t og p )


ď‚— Left page: Takeo Yokoyama and Marc celebrating in box Right page: Santi Hernandez and Marc Next page: Marc return in box to celebrate with his crew

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Editor Claudio Pavanello Art Director Mirco Lazzari Photographers Raffaella Gianolla Carlo Gambini Mauro Lazzari Mirco Lazzari Texts Alice Margaria Pietro Matarazzo Archive and Iconographic Research Raffaella Gianolla Mauro Lazzari Graphic Design Silvia Lannutti Post Production Marco Mercuri Mirco Lazzari

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