Colour
Vivid colour photography showcasing light, detail and atmosphere to capture life’s moments with depth, energy and emotion.
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Still Standing
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Zebra Crossing
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Street Food in Via Salaria
A Chestnut Maker, making everything ready for another day of hard work.
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Shoes’ Meeting in Corso Vittorio
The tension lies in the simplicity—two halves of two lives crossing paths on a Milanese sidewalk. One steady, slow, anchored by age and rhythm; the other urgent, purposeful, briefcase in tow. The small dog peering from beneath the skirt becomes the silent witness. It adds a twist, a subtle distortion to an otherwise linear narrative. Compositionally, I framed low and tight, avoiding faces deliberately. I wanted the shoes, the cane, the movement—or its absence—to speak. Technically, the image pushes no boundaries. The exposure was conservative. Natural light softened by overcast skies made for even tones, no harsh shadows. Colours are muted, the teal jacket doing most of the visual lifting.…
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A Toilet of the Court of Rome
This image wasn’t taken to shock, or to moralise. It was taken to document—to observe the banal degradation of a public space that ought to represent dignity, order, and functionality. The Court of Rome is not some anonymous bureaucratic annex. It’s an institution, a symbol of authority. And this—this corner of neglect, dirt, and rust—is part of its daily mise en scène. The frame is unadorned. The composition is split by a hard vertical: clean white tiles with a wall-mounted sink on the right, and a long, filth-streaked heating unit under sealed windows on the left. It’s the juxtaposition that struck me—two realities in the same room. One part designed…
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Rush Hours
Morning’s rush hours at Milan, Corso Italia.
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Stairway to Nothing
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Stand-up, Sugar!
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Friendship is Forever
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Scarf’s Meeting
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The call that never quite ends
Street photographs often succeed by what they withhold. Here, the frame is built from reticence: a lone older man sits on a low stone ledge, pressed into the corner where two monumental walls meet. The architecture dominates—big blocks, hard seams, an impersonal geometry—while the figure occupies a comparatively small portion of the image, almost as if the city has filed him into the margin.
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The Taste Master
Through the glass, the words float like ingredients in the air—sugar, chocolate, honey, milk—layered over the figure in the white chef’s hat. He stands in the narrow frame of the kitchen window, hands mid-motion as he pulls on a pair of blue gloves. The gesture is deliberate, unhurried, the quiet preparation before work begins. Behind him, the corkboard pins up the rhythm of the week—Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday—handwritten notes, printed orders, the mundane scaffolding behind the alchemy. But the chef himself is framed as something more than a worker; he is the “taste master,” the one who turns lists into flavours, recipes into experiences. The typography on the glass becomes part…
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Hurry up and shut down the $%&? call!
I shot this photograph on a winter evening when the city was still busy but already slowing down. The street lights had taken over from the sun, and the air was full of that post-work restlessness — half leisure, half impatience. In front of me, a couple had paused mid-walk. She waited, a shopping bag at her side, wrapped in a red coat that caught every ounce of the lamplight. He, a few steps ahead, was absorbed in his phone — fingers scrolling, face lowered. It was a scene of quiet tension, familiar to anyone who has ever waited for someone whose attention is elsewhere. The composition relies on opposition. She…
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Windows XVIII … Century
This photograph came from an unplanned encounter while wandering through the corridors of a fading building in via del Governo Vecchio — the sort of place where time has done more than simply pass; it has settled in, quietly shaping every surface. The pane of glass here isn’t modern, nor mass-produced. Its circular impressions are the handiwork of an 18th-century glassmaker, each bubble imperfect, each one carrying the slight distortion of a craft long past. The Leica M9, with its full-frame CCD sensor, brought something special to the scene. That sensor has a way of rendering colour and micro-contrast that feels almost film-like, which was ideal for this subject. The…
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Almost Spotted
The tension in this frame comes not from composition or contrast, but from that split-second ambiguity between being invisible and being noticed. He looked straight into the lens. That frozen glance holds a question—maybe suspicion, maybe curiosity—but crucially, it didn’t escalate. No words, no confrontation. I kept walking, shutter fired, unnoticed… or almost. Street photography isn’t about stealth. It’s about presence—yours, and theirs. Technically, I was working fast. The light was uneven, filtered through a late afternoon overcast, bouncing off the ochre plaster and cobblestones. I kept the exposure slightly under to preserve detail in the midtones, letting shadows fall naturally. The colours hold their weight without shouting—muted leather, grey…
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The Angel Maker
There are some things you only find in Rome. Down a narrow street behind the Teatro di Pompeo, inside a studio that smells of dust, turpentine and time, I watched a man restoring angels. Not metaphorically—literally. Plaster cherubs laid out across the table, grey with primer, one mid-stroke under his steady brush. The place looked more like a reliquary than a workshop. And in a way, it was. He’s a master restorer. The kind of figure you expect in an old Fellini film, surrounded by faded tapestries, cracked frames, and gold leaf so fine it breathes when you exhale near it. But this wasn’t a scene. This was a day’s…
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Do Not Disturb the News Reader
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Italy, Landscape Photography and the Law – Part Two
In a previous post I addressed some of the legal issues involved in Landscape Photography where copyright was willfully not mentioned: since copyright is an outcome of human creativity who might ever think of imposing it over a landscape? Well, as much as it sounds crazy, somebody did it: on 2o11 the Town of San Quirico d’Orcia, in Tuscany, passed a local regulation that copyrights landscape images and artistic, cultural, environmental and architectural “stuff”, making mandatory pro shooter to ask for an authorization before starting their sessions. This local regulation is simply illegal, because “copyright” implies an act of creativity, while the landscape in itself doesn’t (unless you believe in…
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A Zen Garden?
Not very, actually…
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The Arson
The wind had carried the scent long before I arrived—burnt resin, iron oxide, the telltale acridity of ash cooling under morning sun. What was once structure and story was now a cinder pile, framed awkwardly by two still-standing beams like broken arms. I didn’t need to ask what happened. I just raised the camera. This photograph leans into disorder. The eye stumbles across charred planks, twisted metal, and a scorched panel half-folded in retreat. It’s not elegant, and I didn’t want it to be. The strength of the frame lies in its refusal to sanitise. Destruction is inherently chaotic; presenting it neatly would be a betrayal of what it is.…
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Audience
In photographing an audience, the temptation is often to go wide — to show the collective body, the sea of faces, the shared focus. Here, I chose the opposite: a tight, side-on profile of three individuals, all absorbed in what unfolds beyond the frame. The decision to compress the moment into this narrow slice has the effect of isolating their concentration, making it almost tangible. The focal point rests squarely on the man in the centre. His expression is unreadable yet engaged, his glasses catching just enough light to reveal his eyes without introducing glare. The woman to his left, partially hidden, offers a second layer of depth, while the…
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Singers
There is a quiet intensity in photographing performers in the middle of their art—particularly when that art requires stillness before the sound. Singers captures two members of a choir mid-performance inside a church, their faces carrying the gravitas of the moment. The solemnity of their expressions suggests that the music here is not mere entertainment but a deeply felt act. From a compositional standpoint, the frame is tightly cropped, focusing our attention squarely on the two central figures. This proximity invites the viewer to study their facial expressions, the texture of their hair, the fine details of their formal attire. The man on the left, with his distinctive mane of…
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Hanging Clothes Waiting to Dry
I made this photograph on a terrace overlooking the valley, where the most ordinary of domestic acts — laundry drying in the sun — becomes unexpectedly theatrical. The line of garments stretches across the frame, their irregular shapes and colours set against the vast blue expanse of the background. The rural landscape below, softened by distance and haze, contrasts with the immediacy of cotton, wool, and synthetic fabric caught in the breeze. From a technical standpoint, the image is driven by colour and contrast. The saturation is high, which intensifies the reds, purples, and greens of the clothing and the terracotta of the terrace. Against the cool, almost painterly tones…
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The Abused Balcony
The irony here was too sharp to ignore. A fascist-era building , clad in travertine and brick, declares in Latin: Ave, dulce vatis flumen — Ave, vetus orbis nomen. “Hail, sweet river of the poet — Hail, ancient name of the world.” Above, the symbols of empire; below, a tangle of satellite dishes, like mechanical flowers craning toward the global signal. The architecture aims for eternity, the technology changes with every billing cycle. I framed this head-on, symmetry unbroken, letting the building’s own monumentality dictate the geometry. The composition rests on that tension — history and broadcast, stone and plastic, rhetoric and reception. The Latin inscription begs for permanence. The…
