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The Seagull’s Rest
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A Winter Outdoor Chat
In the late afternoon light, when the sun sat low and cast a warm hue across the scene, two men are captured in conversation: one standing, bundled in a heavy jacket, the other seated, his green woollen cap and dark windbreaker contrasting with the golden glow. Their exchange appears informal, unposed, an everyday moment shaped by the season’s chill. Technically, the image benefits from natural light. The exposure leans toward warmth, enriching skin tones and enhancing the textures of clothing and tree bark. Shadows are long but not intrusive, while highlights avoid excess glare. Compositionally, the tree trunk on the right acts as a vertical anchor, framing the seated figure…
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After the Party
‘Round Midnight. The party’s gone. It’s time to clean the mess. Tomorrow, the square comes back to its dull life.
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A Maserati GranTurismo
DSLR-like…?
Posing at Milan’s Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II
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An urgent phone call?
Using a tele (200 mm) allowed me to take the picture but the long focal didn’t separate the planes as a 50 mm would. Truth is that – in these condition – I would hardly have been close enough to obtain the visual effect I was looking for, but the alternative was not to take the shot at all.
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The 365th Shot: Between Sacred and Profane
“Between the Sacred and Profane” is the 365th picture that I’ve posted on this blog and it is the end of a one-year project where I made a point of publishing one picture per day. When, exactly 356 days ago, I decided to start I couldn’t imagine what would have been happened. I became deeply involved into exploring different genres and styles, covering big live events for a music magazine, cinema and arts awards ceremonies, street-photography, portraits, photojournalism and sport events. I went in for a couple of contests and started giving (for free, as I promised) seminars about the rights of the (street)photographers. Of course I don’t do photography…
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When the Rubbish Basket is full…
I made this photograph with the lens barely above the surface. The irony hit me only later: a crumpled, rusting bin—designed to contain waste—floating free, stripped of purpose, drifting like a rejected artefact in a river that had no interest in borders or rules. This wasn’t a chase-the-light moment. It was more of a document-what’s-happening moment. But even in documentary photography, composition matters. The crumpled bin sits dead-centre, emerging from the water like a reluctant symbol. The surrounding wash of grey-brown is indistinct by design—an oppressive field of repetition, without texture or detail, forcing the viewer back to that sodden, disfigured centre. Technically, I shot this with a long lens…
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The Day After The Tide
After the tide, the river comes back to normality, while the boatmen account for the damages. I waited for the light to fall low enough to cut across the hulls and expose what the flood left behind. This isn’t a storm photo—it’s what follows. Boats grounded sideways, lines tangled, some afloat, some tilted into the banks. Nothing dramatic. Just consequence. Shot from the opposite bank with a 300mm telephoto, compressed enough to layer the damage. The image stacks: river in the foreground, boats mid-frame, wreckage and crane behind. The eye bounces between verticals—poles, masts, supports—and diagonals—listing decks and snapped canopies. It’s cluttered by design. Recovery never looks clean. Exposure leaned toward…
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Holding Against the Tide
Time was running short and felt compressed. The tide was coming in faster than expected, and the sailor’s movements had lost any trace of routine. Urgency reshaped posture, gesture, and balance. The man is bent forward, his body pulled into the rigging as if negotiating directly with the boat rather than controlling it. His grip is firm but not elegant. There is no choreography here—only necessity. The frame excludes his face entirely. The choice was not deliberate, however it didn’t matter, since identity is secondary; what mattered was the physical negotiation between human weight, rope tension, and a changing shoreline.
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Multiple Meaning
We do see, in a picture, what we want to see. While the vast majority would focus on the dynamics between the shooter with the hoodie and the man with spectacles, those familiar with the inner circle of photography in Pescara will immediately spot, behind the man, Mrs. Franca Cauti, the Big Boss at Ohmasa Foto Video…
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A HDR Experiment
This is my first – and possibly, last – attempt of using HDR to post-process my pictures. Unless I’m able to get a more creative outcome, there is no reason to have pictures that look deadly similar to those of the other users of Nik Software Collection (as I am:))
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When the Tide Recedes
This scene struck me as more than just a visual curiosity—it posed a question. What doesn’t belong here: the boat or the car? The early evening light had just enough character to lift detail off the flat grey of the pavement and tease texture from the bark of the bare trees. The DA 50-135* handled the compression beautifully, allowing me to frame the boat prominently while holding the background activity—a fire truck, scattered people, and that lone parked car—in a shallow but still informative focus plane. I appreciated the restrained dynamic range of the K-5’s APS-C sensor here. The muted palette lends the image an autumnal melancholy, without needing the…
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So What?
Does anybody come to help me?
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The Sinking Giant
When I first looked through the viewfinder, it wasn’t just the subject’s size that struck me — it was the sense of resignation it carried. Whatever this structure had been, it now stood (or rather leaned) as a monument to time’s slow, unrelenting work. The corrosion, the flaking surfaces, the subtle but undeniable tilt — all of it spoke of something once imposing now quietly giving way. I decided not to centre it perfectly in the frame. Shifting it slightly off-balance seemed to amplify that uneasy lean, letting the structure’s weight and weariness spill into the empty space beside it. I wanted the composition to feel as though the giant…
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St. Peter in Background
St. Peter and Castel S. Angelo as seen from the fourth floor of the Corte di cassazione (Italian Supreme Court.)
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Remainders in Prati
No need to spend huge money,to have a good read. There’s a certain romance in a place where books are stacked so high they seem to form their own architecture. This remainder bookstore in Rome’s Quartiere Prati is one such space — an organised chaos where towers of paperbacks and hardcovers lean against each other like old friends, and the scent of yellowed pages lingers in the air. When I framed this photograph, I wanted to invite the viewer inside, to feel that they might squeeze through those narrow aisles and get lost in the labyrinth. The open doorway, flanked by bookstands spilling onto the pavement, works as a visual…
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The Straycat
Alterness becomes second nature, for those who live on the streets.
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Plenty of Chairs in Via Veneto
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VueScan and the missed Bits-per-pixel
Ed Hamrick’s VueScan is a great software that supports almost every scanner available, including out-of-production film scanner. Sometimes its interface behave in non documented way as in the case of the Bits-per-pixel option in the Input tab that disappears once the Infrared Clean option is enabled in the Filter tab. I wasn’t able to figure out the relationship between the two settings until Ed Hamrick himself kindly answered (lightfast, I would say) to my question. Kudos to him for that, but it would be nice to have this Infrared clean-Bits per pixel issue mentioned in the user guide :)
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The Observer
I made this frame in a quiet corner of a local gallery, the kind of space where conversation gets dampened by soft walls and slow pacing. What struck me in that moment wasn’t the artwork—it was the man. Standing perfectly still, hands resting behind his back, he wasn’t merely looking at the painting. He was inside it, gone somewhere beyond the brushstrokes. I chose to shoot from behind him for a reason. A front-facing portrait would have collapsed the image into a reaction shot. I didn’t want the viewer to know what he thought. I wanted them to stand where he stood, suspended in a moment of personal contemplation. The…
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Should I Stay or Should I Go?
The scene unfolded in a small exhibition space, where two visitors sat on a bench flanking a low-relief artwork. The man’s gesture suggested mid-conversation — perhaps an explanation, a persuasion, or even a defence. The woman’s posture, closed and reserved, told a different story. Between them, the sculpted figures of archers aimed into an unseen distance, their tension echoing the silent space between the two sitters. I composed the frame to keep both the living and the sculpted figures in dialogue. The bench, the plaque at its centre, and the artwork behind created a strong horizontal structure, broken only by the vertical rhythm of the sitters’ bodies. The sign —…
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Staying Behind
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Conversation
In a gallery, the art is never just on the walls. It spills into the spaces between people, into the exchanges and body language of those who come to see it. This frame was taken in such a moment — a candid intersection between two visitors, locked in a discussion that seemed as textured and layered as the paintings around them. I placed them in the foreground, letting the shallow depth of field push the artworks into a soft blur. The defocus serves two purposes: it keeps the viewers’ attention on the pair, and it transforms the background into a muted, abstract backdrop — just enough to hint at the…
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Yin and Yang
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The Empty Stage
There’s a stillness in this image that’s almost unnerving — the kind of stillness you find after the audience has gone home, the performers have left, and the sea has reclaimed the soundscape. The photograph presents what looks like a small, weather-worn platform facing the horizon, its rusted surface marked by time and salt. In front of it, the patterned paving stones draw the eye directly forward, as though you’re being ushered to take your place before the infinite backdrop of sky and water. Compositionally, the image is disciplined and symmetrical without feeling sterile. The vanishing lines of the pavement and the horizon are set dead-centre, pulling you into the…
