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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…
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Clandestine Seagull
I took this photograph in the harbour, late in the afternoon when the light had already started to fade into that bluish, uncertain zone. The boat was clearly not preparing to set sail, yet there was this lone seagull perched as if ready for departure, almost waiting for a conductor to come and check its ticket. That hint of anthropomorphic humour is what made me stop and press the shutter. Compositionally, the bird sits roughly on the intersection of thirds, naturally drawing the eye amid the clutter of fishing gear, ropes, and rust. The machinery around it frames the subject without enclosing it, lending a sense of depth and context.…
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Wrecked Ship
There’s a heaviness to this photograph, not just in the physical mass of the vessel but in the sense of time etched into its surface. The frame is filled almost entirely by the side of the wreck, the wood weathered to grey and streaked with rust-red, algae-green, and salt-white. The colours are muted but carry a richness born of decay — pigments laid down not by brush but by years of exposure, water, and neglect. From a compositional standpoint, the choice to exclude the horizon and most of the surrounding context forces the viewer to confront the ship as an object, almost abstract in its texture. The eye moves along…
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A Sailor’s Knot
I was drawn to this image for the way it captures the physicality of work at sea without showing the sea itself. The coiled rope, weathered and darkened, sits heavy against the chipped paint and rust stains of the boat’s surface. The knot is both functional and sculptural — a product of necessity rather than ornament — yet it commands its place in the frame with the authority of an intentional design. From a compositional standpoint, the photograph relies on a strong division between planes. The horizontal band of the boat’s edge anchors the top third, while the ropes cut diagonally through the frame, breaking the stillness. This interplay of…
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Portrait of an Heavy Metal Singer
Devilish, isn’t it?
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The Traffic Controller
The man in the reflective uniform wasn’t posing, wasn’t waiting. He was simply doing his job — coordinating chaos with the quiet authority only experience provides. The scene unfolded quickly: the fire brigade’s crane on standby, the red and blue lights diffused by daylight, the line of hesitant cars waiting for a signal that only one person could give. I didn’t have much time to frame this; sometimes a good photograph is more a matter of presence than planning. I shot slightly underexposed to preserve the detail in the brighter areas of the sky and keep the colour temperature cool and flat, emphasising the mundane over the dramatic. Compositionally, the…
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Portrait of a Bailaor
It’s not the dance itself. Not the movement. Not the raised heel or arched arm. It’s the moment in between. I took this portrait during a flamenco performance—close up, no motion blur, no sweeping gesture. Just a still frame of pure tension. The bailaor had just stepped out of a phrase. His hair wet from exertion, shirt unbuttoned from heat. He was motionless, but the intensity hadn’t left. It was gathering. What struck me wasn’t the obvious theatricality. It was the way his focus seemed to cut straight through the light. His jaw tight, eyes narrowed, not toward the crowd, but somewhere inward. Flamenco isn’t about smiling through the steps. It’s about…
