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A Spanish Long Jumper
This is one of the photos from the reportage on the Track & Field Mediterranean Championships – Pescara 2022. The Sigma 150-600 Contemporary proved to be a good lens, sufficiently versatile and with effective stabilization. However, used with the 1.4 teleconverter and full extension, it does not allow for high-speed focusing. In some cases, the Nikon D610 failed to lock onto the subject. This makes the lens/teleconverter pair somewhat inconvenient in sports photography. At that focal length, it is probably worth using prefocus. If you do not want to give up automatism, you can try to anticipate the moment of focusing by framing something close to where the athlete should…
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On Photography and Self-Delusion
Only travelling abroad gets exotic photos. No need to travel overseas to get unusual images. Shoot digital is the only way ‘to stay in the moment’. Going retro with film is the only way to stay ‘in the moment’. Get the latest gear you can find. No, use the cheapest stuff because photography is about the man, not the machine. Do not post process, do post process. Shoot colour; no shoot B&W. Use Midformat, no full-frame, no APS-C, no smartphone-size sensors… The list of advice coming from (self-professed) experts, journalists (most often, web content editors with no editorial clearance), and ‘seasoned’ (wannabe) photographers could grow forever.More often than not, these…
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The Mystique of Film
I have resisted for a long time before giving out my two cents about the neverending debate ‘film vs digital’. I gave up after the next self-delusion I read in a well-known ‘semi-pro’ (purposely not linked) online photography magazine. It featured the umpteenth column explaining how shooting film ‘gets the experience back’, going full-manual ‘forces you thinking’, having limited exposures ‘pushes you to become more selective’, and all the usual motives connected with the choice of travelling on a horse-powered chariot instead of using a regular car. There is no need to shoot film to experience all that. Set the camera on full manual, disable OIS and IBIS, use a…
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Alessandro Valle – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella
When I cover singers’ concerts, I make a point of not leaving band members behind. On their shoulders lies the burden of getting the show right. Without them, there is not much a singer could do unless he is gifted with a beautiful voice and proper technique. Still, they often come unnoticed. Kudos to these musicians who make the magic happens.
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Venditti&DeGregori – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella
Here is the link at the gallery of the 10 August Antonello Venditti and Francesco De Gregori concert. A rather unpleasant experience, indeed. Photographers have been confined on the extreme left of the stage and not allowed to move. Of course the show comes first and any annoyance imperiling the performance must be prevented. A tad of flexibility for people who is there to work, though, would have been much appreciated.
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José Ignacio Franco – Live@Auditorium Petruzzi
He doesn’t need to sing. His fingers do it for him. Captured in mid-strum, tocaor José Franco radiates something far more profound than musical virtuosity: duende — that elusive spirit of flamenco, born of sorrow, defiance, and joy. His guitar is not just an instrument; it’s a second voice, one that speaks the unspoken, channeling generations of Andalusian lament and celebration. Notice the scene: the blurred silhouettes of fellow musicians in the foreground, the intimacy of a rehearsal or a small performance, where the bond between tocaores is more powerful than any spotlight. The photograph’s depth of field creates a natural hierarchy — we’re drawn not just to Franco’s position, but to his expression. His smile…
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LP – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella
More pictures available on Rockol’s Gallery section.
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LP – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella – The photogallery
This is the full photogallery of July 22 LP’s concert at the Anfiteatro La Civitella. I was covering the event on behalf of Rockol.it.
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A Gull, Posing
A gull sits perched on a bollard by the water, its body angled just enough to suggest awareness of being seen. The rust-stained base, heavy and industrial, contrasts sharply with the lightness of the bird resting on top. It is a moment where function and chance converge, turning a docking post into a stage. Composition is centred and deliberate. The bollard fills the frame vertically, anchoring the image, while the gull becomes both subject and ornament. The blurred surface of the water behind isolates the scene, stripping away distraction so the viewer confronts the simple pairing of steel and feathers. Technically, exposure is well handled. The whites of the gull’s…
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Red Fan
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Three Lamposts
Sometimes the simplest subjects offer the richest visual rhythms. This photograph of three lampposts along a shaded path is a study in repetition, perspective, and the gentle irregularities that occur when human-made structures meet the slow reclamation of nature. The posts lean — not dramatically, but enough to betray years of shifting soil and seasonal wear — and that subtle tilt gives the image a quiet tension. The composition is carefully observed. The frame leads the eye from foreground to background in a gentle S-curve: the path winds left, the lampposts march back into the trees, and the play of shadow and sunlight dapples both ground and foliage. The staggered…
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Over There!
The cyclist in the foreground owns the frame at first glance—muscles taut, gaze fixed, body leaning into the effort. His jersey clings to him like a second skin, the curve of his shoulders telling the story of miles already conquered. Two red water bottles glint against the blue of the bike, bright punctuation in a palette of muted earth and grey. And yet, the real tension of the image unfolds in the background. There, slightly blurred but unmistakable, a man stands with his arm extended, finger pointing decisively to the right. It is not a casual gesture—it is direction, command, certainty. In that single movement lies the unspoken pact of…
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Three Sprouts
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Three Tires
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Pino Ammendola – L’ultima notte di Bonfiglio Liborio@Teatro Marrucino
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Piero Mazzocchetti – L’ultima notte di Bonfiglio Liborio
I made this photograph in the dim backstage of Teatro Marrucino, just minutes before the curtain would rise. The air was thick with that familiar mix of anticipation and quiet focus. The man sat in his chair, bent slightly forward, pen in hand, making final notes on the score under the stark glow of a music stand lamp. The rest of the stage was swallowed by darkness. Shooting with the Fuji X-T3 and the Fujinon XF 16-80 gave me the flexibility I needed in such a cramped and poorly lit space. The lens handled the low light surprisingly well, though I had to work at the edge of its capabilities…
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Alessandro Blasioli – L’ultima notte di Bonfiglio Liborio@Teatro Marrucino
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Nittele Tower
This photograph was taken on the move, from the Tokyo Monorail, aimed at the glass façade of Nittele Tower. Shooting through layers — the monorail’s own window and the tower’s reflective panels — created a composition that is equal parts interior, exterior, and abstraction. The grid of the building’s structure acts as both frame and subject, compartmentalising the scene into individual vignettes where people, staircases, and architectural lines intersect. The DA* 16-50 on the K-5 handled the mix of reflections and transparency better than I anticipated. Exposure was tricky: the overcast light outside diffused evenly, while the building’s interior lighting added warm pockets of contrast. I kept the balance slightly…
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Game Over
Photographs like Game Over remind me that sometimes the most direct visual statements are also the most loaded. Here, a simple, hastily spray-painted message on a makeshift surface is transformed into something more imposing by lens choice and framing. Shot on a Nikon F3 with a Nikkor 16mm fisheye, the image carries the unmistakable spatial distortion of that ultra-wide glass. The curvature of the edges pushes the wall and banner into a bowed shape, making the words bulge towards the viewer. It’s a subtle but effective way of amplifying the sense of confrontation—as though the message is leaning into us, impossible to ignore. Technically, the black-and-white treatment strips away distraction…
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Technogym Milan@Night
I photographed this storefront in Milan after dark, intrigued by the way its illuminated windows cut through the night. The architecture itself is not the subject so much as the grid of glowing rectangles, each acting like a screen against the blackness of the street. The strong yellow framing lines draw the eye, repeating rhythmically across the facade, while the deep shadows surrounding them emphasise their intensity. Compositionally, I chose a wide perspective to capture the full stretch of the facade. This decision places emphasis on repetition and geometry rather than on any single detail. The asymmetry of the right side, where a bright advertisement interrupts the rhythm, creates a…
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Ugo Pagliai – Romeo e Giulietta@Teatro Marrucino
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Leo Gullotta – Bartleby lo scrivano@Teatro Marrucino
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Late Night@Piazza San Babila
Working with a compact camera like the Panasonic TZ-100 at night is a reminder that you don’t always need a full-frame monster to tell a story — but you do need to understand and embrace the camera’s limitations. The TZ-100’s one-inch sensor is not built for clean, clinical low-light work. Push the ISO and it will show noise quickly; underexpose, and shadow recovery will fall apart. But here, those very traits help carry the mood. The composition rests on a central axis — the illuminated corridor pulling the viewer inward, flanked by the Binova and Ivano Redaelli showrooms. Their glowing interiors act like bookends, framing the pathway and setting a…
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Giorgio Pasotti – Racconti disumani@Teatro Marrucino
The stage is almost bare, yet dense with implication. A man in a deep red suit leans forward over a small stepped platform, his body angled as if straining toward something invisible. The light catches the side of his face, leaving the rest of the space in heavy shadow. To his right, suspended in the darkness, an image of a bottle looms, projected larger than life—its glass skin ghostly, its presence more oppressive than inanimate. This is Kafka territory. The stripped set, the exaggerated scale, the isolation of the figure—they all speak the language of unease. The microphone at centre stage stands unused, a silent witness, or perhaps a channel…
