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A Juggler in Bruxelles
Bruxelles, late afternoon of a spring day. The Gare du Midi is just a few hundred metres away. The traffic flows dully, green is a go, red is a stop. Cars halt at pedestrian crossings when someone approaches. Nobody tries to go through the junction stealing the few fractions of a second between the lights. The only moment of life —or chaos to some— in this ordinary end of an ordinary day equal to countless others in the past and future, is a street performer: a juggler trying to earn a few euros by showing off his prowness at bouncing a soccer ball. Sometimes he indulges too long on his…
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Even Venice Is Powerless Against A Smartphone
Taking meaningful photos in Venice is quite challenging because the strong déjà vu effect can blind you to the city’s beauty. I’m not talking about the myriad selfie-taking tourists who want to take home — or publish on their social media profiles — a small part of the city’s soul. They are not expected to understand even the fundamentals of photography, and they don’t actually need this knowledge to achieve their goal. I have no problem with that. People with ‘heavy calibre’, though, are a different matter. If they’re not going to walk around with massive bodies and lenses just for show, they should at least know a thing or…
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Why Writing About Photography Matters (or: The Importance of Re-inventing the Wheel)
This is the second of my series of short essays on photography. The title might sounds like a pre-emptive justification for clogging the Internet with yet another personal babbling about what photography is supposed to be, how photos should be taken, and so on. Actually, indeed, if one changes the names accordingly in T.S. Eliot’s quote (Dante and Shakespeare divide the world between them. There is no third) it become clear that there is little left to say about photography (with the exception of technical reports on cameras and lenses’ arcane features or performance essentially part of the industry marketing spins.) So, where is the point in keeping on writing…
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After the Rain
In the early days of April a few days of heavy rain were all that lasted to make the river Pescara, in the Abruzzo region of Italy, rise up to the limit of its banks. The raise was not significant, just enough to make the water quietly flow on the adjacent land. Still it caused problem and inconvenience for the boats that were small enough to be lift or submerged by the water. I am no expert in fluid or civil engineering nor do I hold extreme views on environmental preservation. Still, I can’t stop thinking about the possible correlation between a poor set of choices such as reducing the…
