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Ceci n’est pas un cadre
A few, different meanings. The most evident (?):it is a mirror, actually. Thus is not a peinture. The less evident: the title is a sleight of word on the famous Magritte’s masterwork “Ceci n’est pas une pipe“. The lesser evident: I shot the picture in Bruxelles, where is located the Magritte Museum.
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Fast Call
Clients are waiting, still, an urgent call needs to be done.
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The Silent Listeners
Covent Garden, again. Like the music of Orpheus’Lyra, the voice of the singer brings back to life the lifeless mannequins.
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Behind the Beer
Behind the beer’s sockets, a barman discretely fulfills the order placed by his clients.
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Christmas Time at Covent Garden
I caught this moment at Covent Garden during the run-up to Christmas—a place already soaked in atmosphere, now further steeped in the low murmur of seasonal anticipation. The light was dimming, not quite golden hour, but soft enough to let the scene breathe. Shot with the Leica M9, the CCD sensor rendered the colours with that particular tonal grit that makes digital files feel almost filmic. You can sense the density of the blacks without them ever falling into shadow-mud. What first caught my eye was the woman in the red coat. Not just the brightness of the garment—which naturally draws the eye—but the posture, the precise angle of the…
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A Curious Bystander
Rue de la Regence, at night. A fast pace calls the attention of a bystander.
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Late Afternoon Workers
At Place de la Monnaie, in Bruxelles, late-afternoon workers look their life go by, while the rest of the world, enjoy the fun. This photo felt less like a building and more like a roll of exposed film. Fifteen windows, side by side. Fifteen little theatres. The framing is perfect—not by accident, but by architecture. A row of lives unfolding under fluorescent light. You can almost hear the hum. Some rooms are empty. Some are dim. In a few, people remain—cleaning up, wrapping gifts, turning off screens. There are Christmas trees, forgotten chairs, coats slung over partitions. And above all, stillness. Each window holds its own shot. Unrelated, disconnected. A…
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A Bookstore in the Gallery
Taken in Bruxelles with a Leica M9, this photograph is as much about the atmosphere of a winter evening as it is about the subject itself. The bookseller, wrapped in a red scarf, is absorbed in the simple act of handling a book — a gesture that feels timeless, insulated from the passing crowd outside. The “Joyeuses Fêtes” decoration strung above her offers a seasonal frame, hinting at the warmth inside against the cold beyond the window. The composition is direct and frontal, using the shelves of books as both background and structure. The vertical and horizontal lines create order, their rhythm occasionally broken by a tilted spine or a…
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Waiting to Go Home
The gate is still close, a long wait before boarding, is easier to bear when seated comfortably.
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Shopping in Bruxelles
Early afternoon in Bruxelles, The best moment to go shopping.
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After the Party
‘Round Midnight. The party’s gone. It’s time to clean the mess. Tomorrow, the square comes back to its dull life.
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The 365th Shot: Between Sacred and Profane
“Between the Sacred and Profane” is the 365th picture that I’ve posted on this blog and it is the end of a one-year project where I made a point of publishing one picture per day. When, exactly 356 days ago, I decided to start I couldn’t imagine what would have been happened. I became deeply involved into exploring different genres and styles, covering big live events for a music magazine, cinema and arts awards ceremonies, street-photography, portraits, photojournalism and sport events. I went in for a couple of contests and started giving (for free, as I promised) seminars about the rights of the (street)photographers. Of course I don’t do photography…
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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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Plenty of Chairs in Via Veneto
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Under the Bridge
Here I am again with a video…
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Fishermen in Rome, Again
There’s no better way to enjoy a sunny day in Rome. The photograph opens with three figures at the river’s edge, their backs turned to the viewer, their attention fixed on the slow, opaque flow of the Tiber. The morning light is soft but clear, stretching shadows across the worn concrete embankment. Fishing rods angle out over the water, each line vanishing into the muted surface where the river holds its secrets. The composition is deliberate in its restraint. By placing the subjects with their faces hidden, the image shifts focus from identity to posture. Each fisherman holds a distinct physical rhythm: the man in the green jacket standing upright, central…
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The Ipad Shooter. Who needs a Nikon D4 anymore?
The photograph captures an all-too-familiar scene in today’s public spaces: a traveller, squatting low on cobblestones, pink suitcase upright beside her, tablet in hand, angling for the perfect shot. The background is busy with pedestrians, idling vehicles, and the ordered chaos of an urban square—but the focal point is the incongruity of the act itself. Not a DSLR slung over the shoulder. Not even a compact mirrorless. Instead, a bright orange tablet becomes the instrument of choice. CompositionThe image benefits from deliberate framing. The subject sits slightly off-centre to the left, allowing the surrounding space to breathe. This choice draws the eye first to her and the bold block of…
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A Fisherman in Rome
There is a quiet irony in standing on the banks of the Tiber, camera in hand, and seeing this scene unfold — a solitary fisherman, rod extended, gazing into the slow, opaque water. Just a few metres above, Rome hums and roars: scooters weave through traffic, tourists cluster at monuments, and shopkeepers call out in markets. Down here, however, time seems to flow at the river’s pace — unhurried, stubbornly indifferent to the world above. From a compositional standpoint, the photograph makes good use of negative space. The wide expanse of muted, silty water forms a calm, almost monotone backdrop that lets the figure of the fisherman stand out without…
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Next in line, please!
A disciplined and contemplative street photography shot captured with documentary precision. A quiet urban scene unfolds on a cobblestone street, framed by soft, overcast light. In the foreground, a stone bollard supports a small display of trinkets and souvenirs, sharply focused against the subdued blur of pedestrians and parked scooters. The muted palette and shallow depth of field evoke a cinematic stillness, contrasting motion and stasis, commerce and transience—an observation of everyday life
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Too Young to Spend Time Watching the Ducks in the Pond
… wait for the retirement, at least!
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Tired or Fascinated?
Not so easy to tell… The question writes itself when you look at the scene. In the centre of the frame, a man stands before a long, textured painting. His arms are crossed, his head tilted slightly forward—posture locked in contemplation. The work before him, with its earthy tones and abstracted form, seems to have pulled him entirely into its orbit. He doesn’t glance away. In the foreground, two seated figures tell a different story. On the left, a woman in a red hoodie sits with a jacket draped across her lap, holding a booklet. Her gaze drifts outward, past the viewer, her expression suggesting the mental pause that comes after…
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The Way Out
There is something about an open window that always draws me in—not for what lies beyond, but for the threshold it represents. This frame was taken from inside a dimly lit room, the glass swung outward, offering a partial view of a Parisian-style zinc roof, punctuated by a small chimney vent. The decision to work in black and white came naturally; the textures and tonal contrasts were far more compelling than any colour the scene might have offered. The geometry of the roof panels and the window frame gave me strong lines to play with, and the skewed perspective from shooting slightly off-centre added a subtle tension to the composition.…
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Empty Chairs in the Tuileries
Paris in the rain changes its pace. The air thickens, the sounds dampen, and spaces usually alive with chatter take on a hushed, suspended quality. Here, in the Jardin des Tuileries, the iconic green metal chairs gather loosely at the edge of the fountain. They are arranged without intention—angled differently, backs turned, no symmetry to suggest a shared moment. It’s as if the conversation ended abruptly and the participants slipped away, leaving only their seats to remember the posture of their presence. The wet ground darkens the green paint, the armrests glisten with a thin film of water, and the fountain continues its arc in the background, indifferent. The frame…
