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Sega Codemaster
There’s a certain kind of nostalgia that hums in the air around old arcade machines — the whirr of the fans, the dull thump of buttons, the phosphor glow of a screen just a little too close for comfort. This photograph leans into that, not by showing the player, but by staring straight down the throat of the beast itself. The composition is blunt and unapologetic: the steering wheel dead-centre, its SEGA logo and stylised crest almost daring you to sit down and prove yourself. Behind it, the game’s leaderboard spills out in garish blues, whites, and yellows, with Spa Francorchamps’ familiar curves just visible on the left. There’s a…
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Just a Bench (or a Sacrificial Altar?)
When I photographed this bench under a fresh layer of snow, I was struck by its dual identity. On the one hand, it is a piece of public furniture, sculpted concrete shaped into undulating curves to invite rest. On the other, in the starkness of winter light and the thin veneer of frost, it becomes something else—an object that could belong to a ritual, its surface reading like a stone altar abandoned to the elements. The faint streaks of rust along the side even suggest traces of something spilled, though of course it is only iron leaching into the weather. From a technical standpoint, I chose to let the bench…
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Silent Reader
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Priority Pass Lounge at Fiumicino Airport
A black leather sofa sits squarely in the centre, its creases marking years of passengers waiting, resting, or passing time. In front, a glass table reflects the curved lines of the airport ceiling above, while a remote control lies to one side, a small symbol of temporary control in a transient space. The setting is clean but impersonal, designed for comfort without intimacy. Composition is frontal and symmetrical. The sofa occupies the full width, anchoring the frame, while the table stretches forward as an intermediary between viewer and seat. Depth is layered by repetition: another sofa behind, a lamp, wood-panelled walls. The geometry enforces a sense of order, reinforcing the…
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Waiting For The Patrons – 2
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Waiting For The Patrons – 1
Rows of empty tables fill the frame, each one neatly set with glasses, cutlery, and the small black silhouettes of salt and pepper shakers. The chairs—red and blue—alternate without any strict pattern, giving the scene both order and disorder at once. The repetition draws the eye deep into the image, yet the absence of people leaves it eerily still. In the background, columns rise like structural sentinels, breaking the rhythm of the tables. Behind them, white sheets hang, blocking whatever lies beyond. These barriers, makeshift and plain, add to the sense that this place is on pause—prepared for service, yet suspended in anticipation. The light is soft, diffused, and without…
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Absence in Three Acts
Empty chairs always speak louder than full ones. These three, bolted to the floor, stare back with a kind of institutional blankness that neither welcomes nor dismisses. They simply are—efficient, expressionless, durable. I wanted to see if the geometry could carry the whole frame, and it does. The repetition, interrupted only by the slight angle of the shot and the unavoidable play of light, creates rhythm without sentiment. Shot in black and white to emphasise the chrome’s edge and the mesh’s subtle gradients, the photograph hinges on texture and symmetry. The lighting is flat, but deliberately so: no shadows, no contrast drama—just presence. These are not chairs meant for rest;…
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A Lonely Table
I took this photograph through a glass window — not by oversight, but with full intention. The resulting layers were unpredictable, and that was the point. The sea outside, the perfectly set table inside, and the accidental human form reflected between them, all merged into a single ambiguous frame. At first glance, it’s just another seaside restaurant, waiting for guests. But spend a little time and the structure begins to unravel. The light played into my hands: late afternoon, strong enough to shape the objects on the table, yet soft enough to allow the reflections to register without dominating. The glass acted both as barrier and canvas. What you’re looking…
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A Rural View
The photograph frames the landscape through layers of architecture. Brick columns, wooden beams, and the shadowed floor lead the eye directly to the opening in the centre, where chairs and a table sit quietly against rolling hills. The space becomes a proscenium, turning countryside into spectacle, an everyday view into a staged scene. Composition is strict, almost symmetrical. The vertical columns create a grid that anchors the image, while the open middle draws attention forward. The empty chairs, evenly placed, act as stand-ins for absent viewers, inviting the gaze outward. Depth is built in three stages: the shaded foreground, the architectural frame, and the brightly lit landscape beyond. Technically, exposure…
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Ready For Lunch
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Empty Spaces
This is a fraction of what a single human brain can contain. But today there is no risk of going through the first couple of books.
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Do Not Disturb the News Reader
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Plenty of Chairs in Via Veneto
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A Couch in the Yard
When the winter falls, a lonely couch only hosts a few leaves.
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Common Fate
There is a certain poetry in abandonment, a quiet narrative that emerges when objects, once part of daily life, are left to weather the seasons. Here, a potted plant—its container fractured but still holding its fragile inhabitant—leans against the white planks of a wall. Beside it, an old wooden chair, tipped forward, legs worn and uneven, stands as if caught mid-fall. Both share the same exile: placed outdoors, exposed to the damp green creep of moss and the chill of winter air. Their once-practical roles—providing comfort, holding life—have shifted into symbols of transience. The wood of the chair, scarred by years of use, echoes the plant’s brittle stems. Each has…
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A comfortable chair
Well … maybe.
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Empty Chairs in the Tuileries
Paris in the rain changes its pace. The air thickens, the sounds dampen, and spaces usually alive with chatter take on a hushed, suspended quality. Here, in the Jardin des Tuileries, the iconic green metal chairs gather loosely at the edge of the fountain. They are arranged without intention—angled differently, backs turned, no symmetry to suggest a shared moment. It’s as if the conversation ended abruptly and the participants slipped away, leaving only their seats to remember the posture of their presence. The wet ground darkens the green paint, the armrests glisten with a thin film of water, and the fountain continues its arc in the background, indifferent. The frame…
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The Naughty Customer’s Place
Remember, next be kind with the waiter!
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Interior Design at Aurum
Is this couch a piece of art or just a sitting? Two benches, back-to-back, occupy the precise centre of the frame, their symmetry so exact it becomes almost architectural. The polished wooden floor stretches endlessly in all directions, its warm texture rendered in monochrome tones that transform the scene into a study of lines, surfaces, and repetition. The absence of people only sharpens the sense of stillness, making the furniture itself the protagonist. From a compositional standpoint, the central placement works because the subject’s geometry demands order. The verticals of the bench legs and back supports anchor the frame, while the horizontal lines of the seats echo the floor’s pattern.…
