The Science of Traces
From Ancient Manuscripts to Digital Patterns.
“Never trust a signature that’s too perfect. Mozart didn’t have Photoshop.”
Graphonomy isn’t calligraphy, and it’s definitely not a parlour trick for TV detectives. It’s the science of traces—where every ink blot, pressure mark, or tremor of the hand becomes a clue.
I treat manuscripts as witnesses, not relics.
Every sign is context-dependent, every shape is suspect, and nothing—absolutely nothing—should be taken for granted.
Every manuscript is a potential crime scene—minus the chalk outline. Behind every signature, every ink drop, there could be a hidden motive, a forgery, or just a centuries-old mistake.
My approach borrows more from CSI than from dusty philology. I search for the *modus operandi* of scribes, the tell-tale quirks of forgers, the slip-ups that give away a lie. Under the microscope, nothing is “just a detail.”
Ink, pressure, ductus—the physical evidence behind every story the manuscript tries to tell (or hide).
Who wrote it, and why? Every alteration, erasure, or “accidental” flourish is a clue to be decoded.
Forget the cliché of the scholar with a dusty magnifying glass (okay, sometimes I use one). My toolkit spans from analog to digital, from centuries-old paleography manuals to custom-built software that reads what eyes can’t.
Why trust a single tool when the crime is so well-hidden? Every project combines:
“Signed” in 1792—one year after Mozart’s death. The smoking gun? A stroke analysis that would make even CSI jealous.
Software overlays and ink analysis exposed the “original” signature as a late, clumsy addition. When in doubt, zoom in.
Paleography meets code: tracing hands, reconstructing missing bars, and challenging what “authentic” really means.
In manuscript studies—and in life—absolute certainty is a myth. The best we can do is to keep asking, keep testing, and keep doubting. Certainties are often nothing more than consensus dressed up in confidence.
That’s why every page, every signature, every “proven” fact is a challenge to be revisited. The science of graphonomy is not about confirming what’s already believed—it’s about never settling for easy answers.
“Doubt is the most honest form of respect you can offer the past.”
Research means nothing if it isn’t shared, challenged, or even attacked. Here are some of the works where my methods—and my doubts—left a mark.
Journal of Forensic Document Examination
Unmasking a posthumous forgery using graphonomic and ink analysis.
Read on Zenodo
Arché, Milano (English Edition)
Rethinking music history—and secret societies—one manuscript at a time.
See publication
First World Edition
A lost opera restored, with graphonomic notes and digital facsimiles.
More details
Still believe there’s nothing left to discover in old manuscripts? Good. That means you’re exactly the kind of skeptic I like to work with.
Whether you want to challenge my findings, suggest a new project, or just debate what the word “authentic” even means—my digital door is always open. Truth-seekers, troublemakers, and heretics of all stripes welcome.
Contact Me
