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Iphone 15 Billboard in Via XX Settembre
This is an attempt to exploit the limitations of an orthocromatic film. Shadows and highlights were deliberately pushed, as was the contrast. This isn’t about the billboard. Not really. Yes, there’s a giant child smiling over Rome, her face stretched across several metres of vinyl, captured “with an iPhone 15,” if we’re to believe the tagline. She’s luminous, playful, part of a campaign you’ve probably already seen before you’ve even looked at it. But the photograph is something else. This was shot on orthocromatic film—intentionally. Shadows are carved in deeper than they should be. Highlights flare and collapse detail. The tonal scale isn’t flattering, and it isn’t faithful. It’s limited.…
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Nagoya’s reportage featured in The Good Life
The Good Life‘s October issue features my photoreportage of Nagoya.
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A Great Marketing Stunt
Until June 1998 the Italian telephone system didn’t require to dial-in a prefix to place a local call, but this banner still lasts as nothing have changed. A great way to tell people that “we were there before…”
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Who wants to live forever?
I found this sign in a narrow alley in southern Italy, somewhere between a forgotten tabaccheria and a shuttered photo lab. The kind of place where time no longer hurries. “Kodak films in vendita qui” it proclaims—still, stubbornly, as if refusing to accept the world has moved on. The once-bold red letters are now softened by decades of sun, rain, and indifference. The plastic casings holding each letter—cracked, leaning, imperfect—speak more truth than any marketing slogan ever could. It’s a ghost sign, still selling hope in an age when its promise has nearly vanished. This isn’t just a relic of analogue photography—it’s a whisper of what we thought would last…
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Hard Spam
Sometimes spam doesn’t hide in your inbox. It glows in a pharmacy window. Shot on a quiet evening walk, this storefront display in Rome—or somewhere very much like it—caught my attention with the subtlety of a neon bullhorn. A perfectly literal interpretation of hard advertising: Viagra, Levitra, Cialis. Bold red font, urgent discounts, official decree cited. Street-level pharma meets street-level comedy. The scene is absurdly human. Framed by a closed shutter and a lonely Gaviscon box, the paper sign is taped like a last-minute school notice, but the message is anything but shy. There’s no algorithm, no clickbait. Just unapologetic, front-facing capital letters offering a prescription-strength punchline. It’s spam—but analogue. No filters,…
