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Portrait of a young scholar
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Portrait of a Wrestler
There’s a particular weight to portraits of athletes, especially those whose craft is as primal and disciplined as wrestling. When I took this photograph, I wanted to strip away the spectacle of the sport—no mats, no crowds, no action—and focus instead on the man behind the contest. The framing is deliberately close, the upper torso and head taking dominance in the composition. The subject’s direct gaze into the lens is neither aggressive nor performative; it’s a quiet, steady presence. The choice of black and white enhances this honesty, removing any distraction of colour and forcing the viewer to engage with form, texture, and light. In the background, out of focus,…
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Portrait of a politician – 1
There’s a certain pleasure in photographing with the Leica M9—a camera that rewards precision and patience rather than machine-gun bursts. This portrait was made in a crowded hall, the politician seated among an audience whose attention was turned toward the stage. The light was far from forgiving, a mix of weak ambient and uneven spot sources, but the M9’s sensor responded with a tonal richness that digital cameras often lose in harsh conditions. I chose to work wide open, which gave me the shallow depth of field needed to isolate his face from the visual chaos around him. The crowd dissolves into a swirl of shapes and tonal smudges, leaving…
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Secret Beyond the Door
Who knows what they’re talking about?
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The Way Out
There is something about an open window that always draws me in—not for what lies beyond, but for the threshold it represents. This frame was taken from inside a dimly lit room, the glass swung outward, offering a partial view of a Parisian-style zinc roof, punctuated by a small chimney vent. The decision to work in black and white came naturally; the textures and tonal contrasts were far more compelling than any colour the scene might have offered. The geometry of the roof panels and the window frame gave me strong lines to play with, and the skewed perspective from shooting slightly off-centre added a subtle tension to the composition.…
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The Double Helix
When I made this photograph, I was struck by the tension between form and function in the spiral staircase. The image does not seek drama or grandeur; instead, it isolates a fragment of everyday architecture and presents it as a study of rhythm and geometry. The curved underside of the staircase sweeps across the left of the frame, guiding the eye upward, while the metal railing introduces a vertical counterpoint. The steps themselves, worn and slightly uneven, add texture against the otherwise smooth surfaces. From a technical standpoint, I opted for a straightforward exposure, allowing the contrast between the whites of the wall and the greys of the steps to…
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Portrait of aTocaor
There is no audience in the frame, no dancer to mark the beat, no palmas to answer the rhythm—just the tocaor, alone with his guitar. The photograph is intimate, stripped of spectacle, and in that simplicity lies its strength. Shot in black and white, the image pares down the moment to texture and expression. The grain and contrast evoke the deep tradition of flamenco portraiture, where the absence of colour invites the viewer to listen with their eyes. The focus is on the face—eyes closed, lips resting in concentration—as the player leans toward the neck of the guitar. This is not a performance for the world but an inward conversation,…
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Portrait of a Lawyer
Not every portrait needs a full frame. Sometimes, it’s what’s just out of focus that tells the most. Shot close—uncomfortably close—this image doesn’t try to flatter. It doesn’t seek symmetry or polish. The man’s on the phone, mid-thought, caught between reaction and restraint. His eyes are sharp, but not fixed. His hand rises instinctively to his face, as if shielding or steadying something unspoken. The photograph is grainy, the depth shallow. One lens, one second, one expression pulled between two worlds: the one he’s hearing and the one he’s trying to shape with his response. You don’t hear the voice on the other end, but you can sense it—by the…
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Barbarians at the Gates
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EOS-M. Tips and Results For Street-Photography
In the quest for an acceptable use of my Canon EOS-M I think I’ve finally found a way to exploit my M-mount lenses after the poor experience with the LCD focus. The last two exposures posted, this and this, have been shot with a Carl Zeiss T* Biogon 35/2,8 through zone-focusing, while the picture of this post has been manually focused using the EOS-M’s 5x magnification feature. In both cases the results are more than acceptable, giving a new life to this severely limited camera. All I can say is that is true what seasoned photographers use to say about the cameras: as soon as you get acquainted with your…
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Early Morning Shaving on The Beach
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The Referees
Shot in a break between rounds. Two officials—one in the ring, one just outside—pass the scorecard without a word. The exchange is procedural, yet visually precise. One hand extends up, the other down. The gesture anchors the frame. I placed myself at shoulder height, slightly off centre, to keep the ropes intersecting cleanly across the image. The ring’s horizontal lines break the vertical repetition of the gym’s back wall and audience. Geometry does the work—no crop needed. Lighting was mixed. Industrial overheads with a cold cast, ambient spill from the crowd, spot highlights off the shirts. Monochrome strips it back. No distractions. Just action and structure. ISO 1600 to hold…
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Cornermen
There’s a rhythm to these images — a quiet, almost ritualistic interlude in a sport otherwise defined by its violence. The corners of a boxing ring are not just places of rest; they are theatres of strategy, whispered advice, and sometimes silent reproach. In each frame, the fighter is turned inward — literally and figuratively — toward those who bear no gloves but shoulder equal weight in the outcome. From a photographic standpoint, these are intimate studies taken from the same vantage point, the ropes acting as both boundary and compositional anchor. The repetition of the ring’s geometry — horizontal ropes, vertical corner post — frames each scene with a…
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Behind The Shaft
Taken from inside one of those old Roman elevators—small, slow, caged in iron. The kind you find tucked into the corner of a 19th-century palazzo, where the wood creaks and everything smells faintly of dust and time. This photo looks outward, through the gate. But in a way, it also looks inward. The gridded metal frame keeps your focus close. The world beyond is blurred just enough to feel distant. Stairs curve down somewhere out of view. The light is natural, soft, diffused. The rest is silence. There’s no action here. No drama. Just the texture of the old ironwork, hand-forged patterns now worn smooth by a hundred years of…
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Rest under a tree
Resting under a tree, on a sunny afternoon, in springtime.
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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.…
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A Dangerous Alley
A parking entrance at night. A dangerous place.
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Couples
Two couples in a square. One seeks rest, the other, food.
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Raus
I took this photograph on a quiet street where the stillness of the scene clashed violently with the venom of the message sprayed across the wall. The phrase, written in crude, hurried strokes, is not a remnant from some distant, darker chapter of history but a fresh reminder that intolerance continues to thrive. The frame is stripped of distraction: a textured wall, a single small window with broken panes, and the shadow of a streetlamp reaching across the surface. The composition leans heavily on the tension between emptiness and statement. Placing the graffiti off-centre allows the cracked window to act as a counterweight, both visually and metaphorically—two forms of damage,…
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In the backstage
There’s a kind of quiet tension in the way they lean against the wall. No people in sight. No instruments visible. Just the outlines of music, sleeping inside their forms. As a photographer, that’s the kind of silence you try to listen to. The room was dark, lit only from one side. The light caught the curve of one case and slipped off the edge of the other. Texture came forward. Shape. Memory. You could almost hear the faint creak of clasps, the echo of strings long since gone quiet. Sometimes the most expressive shots come when nothing is happening. No performance, no sound—just the pause in between. These cases…
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A party that shall never come
A dress and a bag waiting to be sold. Will the party ever take place?
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Tables and Chairs, at Night
I was drawn to the repetition in this scene — a narrow path lined with tables and chairs, each set lit by a pool of light from the wall-mounted lamps. The rain had just stopped, and the wet stone reflected the glow, creating a subtle tonal contrast that runs like a silver ribbon through the composition. I chose to frame it at an angle that emphasises the recession into darkness, the line of tables pulling the viewer’s eye deeper into the image. The rhythm is regular but not mechanical; the slight variations in chair placement and the occasional break in symmetry prevent it from feeling sterile. The lamps provide natural…
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Fantozzi’s chairs
They look innocent enough — two soft, shapeless seats next to a rattan table, tucked under a wall in some coastal bar. But the title gives it away: Fracchia’s Chairs. And if you know the name, you know exactly what kind of scene this is. Giandomenico Fracchia, as played by Paolo Villaggio in the 1970s, was the tragicomic soul of bureaucratic Italy: servile, stammering, utterly at the mercy of authority. There’s a legendary sketch in which he’s being questioned by his boss — unable to sit still on a chair so round and formless it’s practically a trap. And here it is again, reimagined in polyurethane and branded with Nastro Azzurro. The…
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Big Brother Enhanced
Shot at Gardaland.
