A frequent subject of disambiguation, the term “hero,” however, does not refer only to a brave person or a noble character who sacrifices for the common good, but it’s also the jargon used in New York City to call a type of sandwich powerfully stuffed with various ingredients. Submarine, Torpedo, Grinder and Hoagy are regional variations of the same, but Hero is perhaps the most common throughout North America today. On the ambiguity between “heroes” and “heros” ironically plays a sticker on the windshield of a car photographed by Dapino: Unsung Heros.
The all-American epopee of the road and the car, praised by writers, filmmakers and visual artists, strides more and more with what America is becoming. It is not surprising, therefore, to find a llama, a notoriously South American camelid, among the quintessential quadrupeds of the North West, the horses, as well as wear clothing made in Korea or consume “Heros” produced on an industrial scale by one of the more than 26K Subway restaurants in the United States. Within this mutating scenario, however, automobiles, and even more the way they are used, are symptomatic that something is hard to change, that is the proportional relationship between the human body and the immense surrounding space that makes of the roads of the American West not paths to cross but series of spots on which to stop.
Excerpt from the introduction by Francesco Spampinato.