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@ Rome’s Maker Faire – 6. Lost In Texting
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Not Sure I Would Like The Feel
There’s something both fascinating and faintly unsettling about this photograph. At first glance, it’s a familiar object — a double bass, resting in its case, warm varnished wood catching the light. But then the eye meets the alien appendages: an elaborate framework of carbon-fibre rods, clamps, and actuators, bolted to the instrument’s body. Tradition and craft meet machine logic here, in a way that’s almost confrontational. From a compositional standpoint, the photographer has made a decisive choice to fill the frame with the instrument, anchoring it in the lower half while allowing the vertical lines of the robotic structure to carry the gaze upwards. The background, populated with drums, flight…
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Avid Readers
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Blow Up
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Fun
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Reluctant
It is a simple gesture, easily missed. But in that tension between movement and resistance lies a deeper reading of emotion and instinct. The dog, powerful and proud, lowers its head and anchors its weight as if reluctant to proceed—not from fear, but perhaps from nostalgia, uncertainty, or simply the inertia of old age. There is a moment of friction in this otherwise ordinary urban vignette: the human strides forward, while the dog—the loyal shadow, the constant companion—glances back, hesitates, drags its paws against the direction of motion. The leash, loosely held, is not a tool of command but a symbolic tether. It binds not through force, but through trust.…
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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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Columns
In Brussels, this curved colonnade sits like an architectural punctuation mark in the middle of a park — a statement without a sentence. I positioned the frame to face it directly, giving symmetry the upper hand. The central alignment was intentional: it allows the gentle arc of the structure to pull the eye from one end to the other without distraction. The light was flat, filtered by a heavy overcast, which meant no harsh contrasts or deep shadows. This helped preserve the fine details in the stone — the weathering, the subtle variations in tone — while keeping the surrounding foliage rich but not overpowering. The grey of the columns…
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Orange Scarf
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Ottica Boncompagni
Walking through the streets of Rome with a camera in hand, I often find that shopfronts—particularly those that stubbornly resist the homogenisation of modern branding—tell more about a city’s cultural fabric than any monument. Ottica Boncompagni, captured here in this image, is a perfect example. The sign is visually loud, unapologetically retro, and absolutely Roman. The heavy, rounded typography in ochre and crimson recalls a distinctly 1970s aesthetic—an era of optimism and visual experimentation that still clings to the façades of certain Roman quartieri. And yet, this is not kitsch. It’s lived-in design, aged not by affectation but by time and endurance. From a technical perspective, the composition sits squarely…
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A Grocery Store in Rome
Some photographs emerge not from the pursuit of the exceptional, but from the quiet insistence of the everyday. This frame, captured in Rome, is one of them. I didn’t wait for decisive moments or orchestrate elements. I simply stood in front of this unassuming mini market, with its fluorescent signage blinking “COLD DRINKS” and “APERTO,” and let the banality speak. The storefront is wedged into a stone facade, a brutal contrast softened by the cluttered joy of cheap pleasures: laminated posters of ice creams, fizzy drinks stacked like bricks, and a faded theatre poster wedged between glossy wrappers. You can almost smell the dusty coolness inside — a refuge from…
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A Blue Vespa
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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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@Rome Maker Faire – 7. Mobile Rest
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@Rome Maker Faire – 6. A Statue(?)
I saw her elevated on that concrete block — standing still, upright, focused — and couldn’t not take the photo. For a moment she looked monumental, absurdly dignified, like a civic sculpture in summer sandals. Phone raised in that familiar vertical salute, frozen mid-frame as if cast in bronze. The tension between the everyday and the iconic was too rich to ignore. The humour in this image comes not from mockery but from geometry. The white tent backdrop flattens the space, stripping it of any visual depth and turning her into a cutout against a temporary canvas. Her floral dress softens the hard lines of the block and rigging, while…
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@Rome Maker Faire – 5. Pensive
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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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@Rome Maker Faire – 4. The Hands Controller
This photograph came from a fleeting moment of curiosity—small hands interacting with a larger idea. On the tablet’s bright display, a robotic hand glows in cool, almost clinical blue, juxtaposed with the warm, human fingers controlling it. The setting was a science exhibition, the kind of place where technology and wonder mingle in the air, and where gestures can bridge the gap between imagination and mechanics. From a compositional standpoint, the frame is tight and deliberate. The cropped view keeps our focus locked on the hands—both human and mechanical—without distraction from the surrounding environment. The diagonal placement of the tablet brings energy to the image, preventing it from feeling static,…
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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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An Old Portable Camera
I didn’t stage this. The camera was already set up for a workshop in the park, a portable wooden box on a tripod, complete with focusing cloth and a ground glass screen. What drew me wasn’t the device itself—it was the reaction it triggered. The boy shielding his eyes, squinting into the past through a lens designed long before smartphones flattened photography into a gesture. The composition is dense in its centre, almost chaotic with overlapping limbs and sneakers. But the tripod anchors it. The machine, primitive and precise, holds its ground in a circle of discovery. I kept the perspective low and frontal to emphasise its presence as a…
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@Rome Maker Faire – 3. Stare Of The Mechanical Man
I’ve always been fascinated by that moment in an exhibition when human curiosity meets mechanical indifference. In this frame, the robot’s gaze — fixed, almost expectant — seems to cut through the bustle of the Maker Faire. There’s a quiet in its stare that stands in stark contrast to the crowded, noisy energy of the scene. I chose to let the human operator stand slightly behind the machine, not in front of it. This composition allowed the robot to dominate the foreground while still including the person who, ironically, brings it to life. The presence of an out-of-focus head in the bottom left was a conscious choice to keep the…
