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Seats
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Natural Silohuette
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The Glassmaster
I took this photograph in a small workshop where the air was thick with heat and the faint scent of molten silica. The man at the bench was a veteran glassblower, his movements so fluid they seemed choreographed—every rotation of the blowpipe, every precise turn of the wrist, shaped the glowing mass at its tip into something delicate and exact. In composing the image, I wanted to give space to the environment. This wasn’t simply a portrait; it was a record of a craft. The cluttered benches, the brick furnace, the scattered tools—these were as much a part of the story as the craftsman himself. I framed him slightly off-centre,…
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Interpreti Veneziani – Vivaldi’s Four Seasons Live@San Vidal
I took this photograph in the interval just after the final piece had ended. The applause was still fading, and the musicians were easing out of performance mode and back into themselves. That is the moment I am often most drawn to—the release, the unguarded shift from concentration to relief or quiet joy.
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Yet Another Tokyo Tower Nightshot
It’s a cliché, and it knows it. Tokyo Tower, photographed countless times from every angle, under every sky, in every season. And yet—here it is again, demanding to be seen. This frame sidesteps the usual postcard treatment. Shot from below, the tower’s latticework bursts upward into the night, slicing through blackness with an almost aggressive geometry. The steel glows in saturated reds and yellows, while electric blue dots climb its spine like frozen sparks. The colour contrast is jarring, theatrical, impossible to ignore. What makes it work is the tilt. The camera’s skewed perspective turns the familiar into something unstable, almost vertiginous. The structure seems to lean, to lurch forward,…
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The Commuter
He was already asleep when I boarded. Head bowed, earphones in, hands gently clasped over a leather bag as if the weight of his entire week rested beneath his fingers. The sun had just begun to bleed through the train window—flat and indifferent—casting the kind of unflattering, directional light that most photographers instinctively reject. But I didn’t. I raised my phone and shot. This isn’t a grand composition. It’s quiet. Framed tightly, perhaps even uncomfortably so, with the seat backs hemming in the edges and drawing the eye into the compact geometry of his body folded forward. The line of the armrest cleaves the image horizontally, a visual interruption that…
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Three Legged?
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Restaurant or Killing House?
Taken in Tokyo, this photograph shows the façade of Musashi, a ramen restaurant, but the presentation is far from the warm, inviting atmosphere one might expect from an eatery. At night, under the glare of its signage, the scene takes on an ambiguous mood. The bold kanji, stark in black against an overexposed white panel, dominate the frame’s upper third, flanked by circular emblems. Below, the silhouette of a swordsman — rendered in cut-out form with glowing characters down the centre — adds an almost cinematic tension, more reminiscent of a samurai film poster than a dinner venue. From a compositional standpoint, the frame is split into strong horizontal bands:…
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Addicted to (Nintendo) Switch
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Waiting for the Shinkansen – 2
Tokyo Station is a place of constant movement, a rhythm of arrivals and departures so precise it borders on choreography. Yet, in the midst of this perpetual motion, there are moments of stillness — moments like this one. The young woman stands against a marble column, a vivid pink handbag in one hand, a green tea bottle in the other. The shinkansen, sleek and cream-coloured, is a quiet presence in the background, its windows reflecting the muted tones of the platform. Her gaze, directed somewhere past the camera, is calm yet unreadable — a mix of patience and expectation. From a compositional standpoint, the frame benefits from its vertical alignment.…
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Every Single Day
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Waiting for the Shinkansen – 1
There’s a certain theatre in waiting rooms. The cast changes, the script is unwritten, yet the rhythm is always the same—an ebb and flow of arrivals, departures, and the suspended time in between. In Waiting for the Shinkansen, this sense of suspended animation is rendered with quiet precision. Framed through the glass walls of the station lounge, the photograph gives us a compartmentalised view into a small world sealed from the rush outside. The clear vertical lines of the door frames bisect the scene into distinct visual panels, almost like frames in a film strip, each containing a vignette of stillness: a pair of women in mid-conversation, a businessman absorbed…
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All Mobiles But One Book
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Genta Fukue live@Sakura Terrace – Kyoto
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Sala degli Onori @ Triennale di Milano
Photographing grand interiors is always a test of discipline — a challenge to convey scale, symmetry, and atmosphere without letting the vastness swallow the human presence within it. In this image of the Sala degli Onori, the composition succeeds in balancing the architecture with the people inhabiting it, rendering a space that is both imposing and accessible. The shot is anchored by a strong central perspective. The converging lines of the marble floor and rows of white chairs pull the viewer’s gaze directly towards the far wall, where the mural forms a natural focal point. The figure walking down the central aisle provides a crucial sense of scale; without her,…
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Intelligence Contest
A pane of glass separates two worlds. On one side, the hyper-stylised gaze of a model — digital, sculpted, aloof. His stare pierces outward from an ad inside a hair salon, promising precision, control, curated masculinity at €21. Behind the glossy veneer, real people go about their routines, dwarfed by the giant printed face that symbolises a synthetic ideal. On the other side, a cluster of balloons—soft, round, unformed—calls out with its own clumsy presence. Unintended perhaps, but visually evocative, the column of latex orbs resembles a puppet or caricature. In their simplicity, they reflect something the model cannot: humanity, imperfection, absurdity. The composition turns into theatre. A confrontation of…
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The Quest for Belgian Chocolate…
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Outdoor Aperitif
I shot this on a cool evening in Brussels, with the last of the daylight just beginning to retreat behind slate rooftops. The city was shifting gears—post-work fatigue blending with the early stirrings of nocturnal energy. I had the Leica M9 slung across my shoulder, a camera that’s more than a tool—it forces you to see with intent, to commit before pressing the shutter. Paired with the Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2.8, it draws sharpness out of corners and translates contrast with a crisp, unfussy tone that suited the moment perfectly. The scene was already composed for me: clustered chairs, half-filled glasses, side conversations in mid-stream. No one posed. No one…
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The Temple of Justice
From an elevated perspective, the grand staircase of the Italian Court of Cassation descends in perfect symmetry. Framed by neoclassical columns and lit by reverent lamplight, this space does not merely lead—it ascends, conceptually, toward the divine. The title, The Temple of Justice, is not metaphorical hyperbole, but a statement of function and form. This is not a courthouse. It is a sanctuary. Justice, as the image suggests, is not a secular procedure. It is a liturgy. It unfolds with rituals, vestments, invocation of higher powers, and the solemnity of faith. The robes, the benches, the altars of the law—these mimic the language of churches. And the Court of Cassation, the…
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Waiting for (Supreme) Justice
I took this while waiting, quietly, in Rome’s Corte di Cassazione—a place where silence isn’t just expected, it’s structural. Every arch, bench, and cornice feels designed to mute the outside world. What struck me wasn’t the grandeur (although the sculptural work is unapologetically ornate), but the emptiness. For all the architectural posturing, justice here is often a matter of waiting. The benches, scuffed and rigid, are the only human-scale elements in the frame. They sit below a frieze of muscular allegories and baroque pomp, a reminder of the institutional weight bearing down on the people beneath. The image is composed to reflect this—foreground arch framing the frieze, a horizontal band…
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Traffic Master
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Up from the Waterline
As a photographer, I have always been drawn to the power of perspective—how the choice of vantage point can turn a simple set of stairs into a visual narrative. Up from the Waterline achieves precisely this, transforming an ordinary urban ascent into a scene layered with mood, tension, and a touch of mystery. Framed from the bottom of the stairwell, the composition draws the eye upward in a natural, almost subconscious motion. The heavy shadows along the concrete walls create a narrowing funnel of light, directing attention to the top landing where a burst of colour—a pot of flowers—awaits. This sudden contrast between the dark, gritty stone and the warm,…
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Different Financial Transactions
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Very British
Taken in London, this photograph distils a handful of instantly recognisable motifs into a single frame — the black cab, adorned with a Union Jack roof, easing forward past a red telephone box, with “Look Left” painted on the asphalt as a quiet instruction to visitors. The two women waiting at the kerb, one in tights and flats, the other in sandals and jeans, are caught mid-interaction, their body language suggesting either anticipation of crossing or casual conversation. From a compositional standpoint, the cab takes command of the foreground, placed fractionally off-centre to allow the eye to travel backwards along the street. The depth is reinforced by the layering of…
