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Portrait of a Waiter
Another day is going to start, and the ashtrays are ready to filled by the deadly dust…
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Early Morning’s Cleanup
The time goes by, and the song remains the same. Work until late night, clean up early in the morning. Shot handheld, early light bleeding in from camera right. The street’s been emptied of narrative clutter—no cars, no movement, just the woman mid-bend, transferring waste from broom to bag. It’s not staged. She didn’t know I was there. I waited until her back arched into that angle, arms extended, the brush and dustpan forming a triangle at ground level. The framing is offset deliberately. She occupies the lower right quadrant. The left side is held empty—just shuttered shopfronts and a corridor of fading lines. This void gives her effort weight.…
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Never Trust the Autofocus (not only) in Street-Photography
The more I practice the street-photography, the more I find myself more at ease with zone-focusing instead of trusting the camera auto-focus. This is, in my case, particularly true with hip-shooting where I can only “guess” what the camera is actually focusing. Though not a candid, this photo explains what I mean: the idea was to have the flowers and the small lamp in focus, but the actualization has been the exact opposite. My fault, of course, because I would have given a look at the viewfinder, but the point is that I didn’t feel like I had to since the AF will cares. Another skill I need, Kime apart,…
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Hair Cut
Early in the morning first things first: a clean haircut before anything else.
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The EOS-M just sucks
I made a point of staying clear of gearhead-oriented posts like: “x100s is better than M9” to focus on images and shooting only. In fact this blog only hosts two or three entries that talk about gear while the rest is dedicated to the exposure I catch. I want to break the rule again to provide an absolute subjective while definitive opinion of the Canon EOS-M: in one word (well, two, actually) it sucks. Thank to the ingenuity of Adriano Lolli, a pure genius, I have been able to couple my EOS-M with a Zeiss Sonnar 50 1/5, in the (lost) hope that by doing so I would have obtained…
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The Cameraman
There’s a quiet heroism to the figure of a cameraman mid-shoot. This image captures that intensity — the squint of concentration, the firm but fluid grip on the camera, the slight tilt of his head as if aligning himself with the rhythm of the scene unfolding before him. The bright red of the staircase behind him injects energy into the frame, contrasting sharply with his dark clothing and the muted tones of the camera equipment. The composition works in part because it respects the subject’s craft. The frame is tight enough to convey focus, yet wide enough to hint at context: the scaffolding, the staging, the theatre of production. The…
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Crowd Control
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The Suit
How would it feel like, when everybody around goes to the beach, wearing a suit and going to the office?
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Waiting for The Flight
Airport lounges are curious spaces—half liminal, half aspirational. I shot this at Milano Linate, where the atmosphere was oddly hushed despite the comings and goings just outside. The artificial calm was broken only by the subtle rustle of magazine pages and the occasional clink of glass. I was drawn to the symmetry—the near-theatrical lighting, the evenly placed glasses on the coffee table, and the sketchy wall mural of aeroplanes gesturing to movement while everyone inside remained still. Technically, I worked with the available light, letting the ambient tones do their job. The soft light from the floor lamp created a pleasing halo on the wall, balancing the composition visually. I…
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Get Ready for The Duty
Twilight hits differently in industrial spaces — it smooths the sharp angles and softens the glare of primary colours. This shot, taken just outside the Stadio Adriatico, finds a firefighter in quiet preparation while the world behind him begins to stir. The fire engine’s bold typography — VIGILI DEL FUOCO — is less a design element than a declaration, slicing across the frame in a defiant horizontal. I composed this frame to split the visual tension. On the right, a single man and a machine. On the left, a group of police officers huddled in conversation, their presence as much about routine as readiness. The stairs and monumental architecture climb…
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Have fun…
This is the mood music should always create… (so long, jazz players)
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Lorenzo negli stadi
Rockol.it – a music-oriented online magazine I work with – published the reportage I did at the Jovanotti’s “Lorenzo negli stadi tour 2013” in Pescara (IT). Here are the other pictures.
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The SoundMaster
You don’t usually see them—not really. They’re always there, but never in the spotlight. Still, without them, there wouldn’t be a show. I was at a concert recently, camera in hand, doing what I normally do—trying to catch something a little off-stage, something that tells the rest of the story. That’s when I spotted him: back to the crowd, eyes on the board, headphones hanging loose around his neck. Focused, steady. Doing the kind of work that only gets noticed when something goes wrong. I framed the shot from behind. The lights of the soundboard, all blinking and glowing, lit up the edges of his shirt—a simple icon of a…
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The Smoker’s Golden Rule: A Coffee Always Calls a Cigarette
There is something about certain rituals that photography seems almost predestined to document — moments that are less about the act itself and more about the pause in which it occurs. This image sits firmly in that territory. From a compositional perspective, the frame is constructed to let the viewer’s eye drift from one key element to another: the coffee cup, the ashtray, the faint tendrils of smoke, and perhaps even the hinted presence of the smoker just outside of view. The narrative is implicit; we know what is happening without needing to see it. This is the strength of suggestive framing — it trusts the audience to fill in…
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The Lost Garage
A hidden spot, where nobody goes, while everybody passes by.
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Diner After the Show
Thank god there’s still a way to get some food, even at late night…
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Three of a Kind
Shot from street level, this image captures an everyday theatre performed quietly on a terrace. Three people — two women and one man — are held together by proximity but separated by gesture, expression, and posture. It’s a fleeting constellation of personalities, caught just before it disperses. I was struck by the triangular tension: the woman on the left, sporting a bicycle helmet and pursed lips, locked in on the man’s casual delivery. He stands as the pivot, mid-sentence, while the third figure leans away, hand on neck, visibly disengaged. The emotional distance between them expands far beyond the physical. Technically, the image relies on a crisp focus and compressed…
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Evolution of a Guitar Player
It’s strange how a decade can pass in the blink of an eye — and yet carry with it the weight of evolution. The last time I met Roberto Di Virgilio, he had a Steinberger in his hands: all sharp edges, carbon fibre, and the aura of the 1980s futurism that guitarists either loved or dismissed outright. Seeing him now, a Les Paul slung across his shoulder, feels almost like a chapter shift in a novel I didn’t realise I was still reading. The photograph was taken in the kind of setting that usually conspires against the photographer: a stage during setup, flat midday light filtered through the structure above,…
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The Calm Newsreader
Piazza del Duomo is never truly still. The stone expanse acts as both stage and thoroughfare, where the pace of life is measured in contrasts. In this pair of images, that tension is laid bare: a young woman, mid-stride, the blur of her step almost audible, shares the same visual field as a man in a red shirt who sits in unhurried contemplation, newspaper in hand. The composition in the first frame benefits from the deliberate use of foreground and background separation. The woman is caught in that decisive moment—foot lifted, eyes focused ahead—while the man remains anchored in his position, reading. The interplay between their postures tells a story…
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A Lost Towel
No one around. Just sun, sand, and something left behind. The beach was empty when I passed through—early or late, hard to say—but this towel was there, alone, crumpled and vivid. Its colours refused to blend in: yellows, reds, a printed image of something once meaningful, now half-folded by the wind. It didn’t look forgotten. It looked abandoned. What caught my eye more than the towel was what surrounded it: tyre marks, footprints, all criss-crossing paths layered into the sand. As if everyone passed by but no one stopped. It felt recent, but not urgent—like whoever left it didn’t mean to come back. The shot came together quickly. Low angle…
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Everything is ready for the service
… but the attendees
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The Smoke Teacher
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Red Storm
I took this photo without raising the camera to my eye, resting it against the back of a chair to avoid breaking the rhythm of the scene. The room was full — women mostly, all dressed for the occasion, voices layered like overlapping melodies, echoing off red tablecloths and gold-framed mirrors. At the centre of it, this woman in a storm of colour. Her jumper caught the light — green, crimson, black — like a weather system of yarn. I didn’t need to see her face. Her hand told the story. The composition is crowded, intentionally so. No negative space, no clean lines, just immersion. You’re pulled into the middle…
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The Elders’ Council
