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Just A Phone Call – 1
Shot in stark monochrome, this image emerged from a walk beneath an underpass on a winter afternoon. The subject is unassuming—a lone figure, caught mid-step, carrying bags in one hand and a phone to his ear with the other. But it’s the tension between light and shadow, confinement and openness, that makes the frame speak louder than the moment it documents. Technically, this is a study in contrast. The tunnel acts like a natural vignette, swallowing the foreground in near-black shadow while casting the background in a flat, wintery glare. This duality pushes the eye forward. The silhouetted figure is placed just past the threshold of light, where the architectural…
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Inside an Old Gym
There’s a quiet dignity to this corner of a forgotten gym — the kind of place that smells faintly of chalk, iron, and decades of sweat baked into the walls. The dumbbells, spherical and capped with worn white bands, sit on their metal stand like relics from another era. Behind them, weight plates lean casually against peeling plaster, the faded “S.I.R.E.A. Roma” inscriptions a reminder that these tools once carried prestige in the hands of athletes who are now long gone. The composition makes excellent use of the tight corner. By framing the equipment against two converging walls, the photographer forces the viewer’s gaze into the scene, trapping it in…
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Merleria Livia
Some signs don’t light up the street—they anchor it. This one simply says “MERLERIA LIVIA,” glowing white against the black. Not neon, not flashy. Just enough light to find your way back to something ordinary. Useful. Forgotten. Shot on a rainy night, the kind that turns every surface into a mirror. The pavement reflects the streetlamps like a memory trying to stay present. A man walks slowly, slightly hunched—not from age, maybe just the weather. Hands in pockets, coat zipped. Nothing urgent, nothing staged. The shop is closed. You can feel it. The shutters are down, but the sign is still doing its job. Reminding anyone passing that once, not…
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Between Sea and Sky
This frame was taken from the window of a descending flight—a rare moment when clouds, coastline, and light lined up like a deliberate composition. What I saw wasn’t dramatic, just elemental: water, air, light. That was enough. I chose monochrome not for effect, but for clarity. In colour, the image lost its cohesion—too many tonal distractions in the blue ranges, too much softness in the sea. Stripping it to black and white revealed a quiet structure beneath the atmosphere: horizontal bands of texture, density, and reflection. Technically, the image stretches the limits of what you can get through a scratched plane window and turbulent light. The glass wasn’t clean, the…
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John De Leo’s Grande Abarasse Orchestra – Live
This is a reportage I did during a concert of the John De Leo’s Grande Abarasse Orchestra. Covering this performance reminded me why live concert photography is such a balancing act between observation and anticipation. Each of these images, though part of a single reportage, serves as a fragment of a larger narrative – one built on rhythm, tension, and fleeting expressions. The colour frame of the full band provides essential context, grounding the viewer in the environment. The arrangement on stage is clear, with good use of depth to layer the musicians. The lighting, though moody and uneven, is handled competently, preserving detail without blowing the highlights from the stage…
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A Cello’s Player
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Having Sax
This shot isn’t about music. It’s about friction — brass on fingers, sweat on grip, breath on reed. I didn’t wait for the solo. I framed the pause before it, when everything is coiled. The hand is relaxed, but not idle. It knows exactly where it is. I shot tight with a fast prime, 85mm wide open, to isolate the curve of the bell and the roughness of the horn’s surface — pitted and worn, not polished. This instrument has stories. It’s been around. The monochrome helps strip it down to form and texture. You feel the decades in that metal. The grain is intentional. So is the low-key lighting.…
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Too Big To Be Dumped
This frame came to life walking past an alley where time seems to have hit pause. The bins stand in perfect alignment, regimented like bureaucratic soldiers, while behind them, the decaying wall tells a different story—chaotic, layered, unresolved. I shot this with a 35mm prime, letting the midday sun carve stark shadows that add to the irony of this supposed order. The exposure demanded precision. Too much light and I’d have lost the texture on the old plaster; too little and the bins would sink into murk. I leaned into the contrast, embracing the Leica’s natural tonal harshness in black and white. No dramatic angles, no “decisive moment” flourish—just frontal,…
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A Modern Nazca?
This image is one of those moments when photography abandons literalism and moves into interpretation. What you’re looking at is, in fact, a stretch of pavement and asphalt intersected by strong shadows—but the shallow depth of field and the grain structure render it unmoored from immediate recognition. The blurred lines could be mistaken for ancient geoglyphs seen from above, hence the tongue-in-cheek title. The parallel bands, intersecting curves, and sudden diagonals call to mind aerial archaeology, even though the camera was barely a metre from the ground. The ambiguity invites a double take, and in that pause, the viewer starts to reconstruct meaning. Technically, this is a photograph of deliberate…
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Faces in the Façade: A Ghostly Smile in Stone
The camera tilts upward, catching the weathered skin of a building where plaster peels like old parchment. Two circles and an arch, carved decades ago, sit quietly above the passageway. Yet in this photograph, the mind cannot help but play: the decoration forms a round-eyed, wide-mouthed face, its features soft and slightly comic. The resemblance is uncanny—here is the echo of the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, peering down with an oblivious grin. The cracked and flaking surface becomes its aging skin, the faded stucco a reminder that even ghosts of pop culture can find new haunts in architecture. Light and shadow turn structural detail into character. The deep arch below reads…
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Histoire d’O
Photography has a curious relationship with meaning. Sometimes it offers us a direct line to an obvious narrative; other times, it teases us with ambiguity, compelling the mind to reach for significance where perhaps none exists. This image—an aged, weathered architectural oval, framed in peeling plaster—belongs firmly in the latter category. Its title, Histoire d’O, borrows knowingly from the controversial novel of the same name, inviting the viewer to read into its form, its texture, and its emptiness. Technically, the photograph demonstrates a strong command of tonal control. The black-and-white treatment emphasises the interplay between texture and shadow, revealing the rough grain of the plaster, the fine cracks tracing across…
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A Fence
What drew me to make this photograph was not the fence itself, but the way it interacted with the geometry behind it. The wire grid overlays the diagonal of the concrete stair and handrail, creating a tension between rigid containment and directional movement. The eye wants to follow the slope upward, yet is repeatedly interrupted by the vertical and horizontal bars in the foreground. In terms of composition, the alignment was deliberate. I positioned the frame so that the grid sat almost perfectly square, avoiding converging lines that would soften its structural authority. The diagonal cuts through the otherwise orthogonal arrangement, introducing a dynamic that stops the image from becoming…
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Tiles
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The Seagull And The Sentinel
In front of the solemn geometry of a royal palace in Oslo, the eye is drawn not to the grand columns or orderly facade, but to the understated absurdity playing out on the forecourt. To the far right, a sentinel paces with ceremonial rigour — upright, focused, unyielding. His role is one of symbol and service: a visible reminder of authority, history, and order. But his dedication unfolds before an almost entirely empty square. Almost. Because to the left, alone and unconcerned, a seagull meanders across the open expanse. It neither salutes nor flees. It simply exists — indifferent to the weight of flags, uniforms, or palatial power. This…
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Boat Dock Bumpers
I made this photograph on a quiet, overcast day when the water was calm enough to reflect tone more than light. The ferry was easing in slowly, its pace unhurried. The dock’s side, lined with worn tires acting as bumpers, formed a long diagonal that led straight to the vessel. The structure looked utilitarian and weathered, shaped entirely by function rather than aesthetics. That mattered to me. I wanted to capture the work of the place, not the impression of it.
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A Two-Masted Schooner
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The Oslo Opera House
I’ve always believed that architecture reveals a different truth when seen from the water. Shooting the Oslo Opera House from the sea reinforced that idea for me. From this vantage point, the building doesn’t just sit on the waterfront—it seems to grow out of it, its sloping planes echoing the movement of the harbour while anchoring themselves firmly into the city skyline. For this photograph, I chose a framing that allowed the Opera House to dominate without isolating it. The surrounding water occupies enough of the lower frame to set the context, while the upper section leaves room for the building to breathe against the sky. This separation of planes—sea,…
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Downtown Pulse
This photograph captures the rhythm of a city centre street, a place where architecture and human movement converge. The composition is anchored by the façades: the mix of brick and ornate plasterwork recalls different eras of urban growth, while the signage and shopfronts bring the scene firmly into the present. The café on the left introduces a quieter layer — seated figures just visible through the glass — while pedestrians animate the open space in the middle ground. Technically, the exposure holds balance across the tonal range. The overcast light provides a diffuse softness, avoiding hard shadows and allowing the details in both masonry and pavement to remain legible. The…
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Norwegian Suits
A missed opportunity for a good photo. I shot too early and failed to frame the guy with the bicycle whose look would have been a nice “counterpart” with the serious attire of the businessmen he was crossing.
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Zebra Crossing in Oslo… With Red Light
I took this frame while walking toward the Royal Palace in Oslo, on a typically overcast Scandinavian morning. I was drawn not by the architecture, but by the quiet absurdity playing out in front of me: the man, dead-centre, marching briskly across a zebra crossing, fully aware of the red pedestrian light glowing above him. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t unaware. He simply decided to cross. Behind him, another pedestrian also defies the signal. Meanwhile, the older gentleman to the left seems locked in step with the more visible figure—a generational echo, perhaps. Their trajectories don’t intersect, but they form a compositional rhythm that pulls the image together. The image…
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Hanging Bottle
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Out Of Focus, Once More
Missed focus. Again. And no, it wasn’t intentional. This wasn’t a conceptual experiment, nor a nod to dreamlike abstraction. It was simply a technical failure, shot with a manual lens, rushed framing, and an optimistic assumption that I’d nailed the hyperfocal distance. I hadn’t. Still, I kept the frame. It’s a street in Munich, pigeons pecking at the ground, firemen walking down the centre. A homeless encampment crowds the left edge. None of it sharp. But despite that—or maybe because of it—the image speaks. Context persists. Silhouettes are enough. The story doesn’t vanish with the detail. Technically, the photo lacks precision: the aperture was too wide, depth of field too…
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Lady Gaga Art Rave
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Cold Freezing Tour Through Oslo’s Fjord
I took this photograph aboard a ferry cutting through the Oslo fjord in winter. The cold was penetrating, the kind that seeps into bones despite layers of clothing. The passengers’ body language tells the story more effectively than words: one figure wrapped in a blanket, hands folded in stillness; the other with a camera resting idly on his lap, shoulders hunched, jeans stiffened by the chill. Compositionally, I aimed for a low angle, using the perspective of the floor and the rug leading diagonally into the frame. This draws the eye directly toward the two figures without needing to show their full faces. The benches on either side narrow the…
