Projects
Photography projects exploring concerts, sports, portraits and street life, blending technique and vision into compelling visual stories.
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The Real Street Photographer: Bold and Fearless
I was walking along the seafront when this little scene unfolded: two women, a dachshund, and a child armed with a compact camera. No hesitation, no awkwardness — he simply stepped into the moment and claimed it, directing his subjects with the quiet authority only the very young can get away with. It was pure, unfiltered street photography, stripped of the adult self-consciousness that so often blunts spontaneity. Technically, the light was harsh, the midday sun cutting strong shadows across the paving and lending the image a slightly brittle feel. The Leica M9, with its CCD sensor, tends to emphasise contrast in such conditions, and here it works in my…
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A promenade
… in a forbidden place.
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Business people in Rome
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A moment of break…
I made this image at a street market in central Italy, just as the vendors were preparing for the day ahead. It was early, cold, and the air smelled of roasted chestnuts and diesel from delivery vans. These two stood silently, each holding a small cup—likely coffee—while surrounded by synthetic softness still wrapped in plastic. Quilts, towels, fleece. The kind of items whose colour is always a little too bright under cloudy skies. Technically, the shot is far from pristine. It’s handheld, slightly out of focus at the edges, and not particularly well exposed. But I’m not sorry. What it lacks in clinical sharpness it gains in truth. This wasn’t…
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No time for lunch at Piazza Fiume …
It was the shadow that pulled me in first—mine, cast sharply onto the boot of the car, creeping into the scene like an unwanted narrator. Midday sun can be harsh, unforgiving, but here it helped slice the moment cleanly into layers: man, car, street, façade. Rome, in its winter light, does this beautifully—sculpts with sun rather than bathing in it. The man was absorbed, cigarette in one hand, eyes squinting into the curbside distance. His posture wasn’t idle. It was tight, waiting. The shoulder bag pulled across his frame like a restraint. The frame itself is compressed—everything close, tight to the lens, from the Mercedes emblem to the man’s jacket…
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Waiting for the hearing
This frame came together in the sort of courtroom stillness that doesn’t need silence to be loud. Everyone in the picture has a role, but the image doesn’t tell you who’s who — and that’s the point. Decades ago, a robe or a tie might have done the job. Now, visual cues have flattened, and that ambiguity became the soul of this shot. None of the are defendants, though… Shot handheld with available light, the scene is dominated by the warm glow of the wood table, contrasting with the impersonal office light spilling from above. That warmth helps soften the harsh institutional lines, drawing the viewer’s eye toward the hands…
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Lunchtime
It’s cold, but for a while it is better stay outside. The light was sharp and low, the kind that cuts through the chill and gives everything a brief sense of warmth. The group gathered around the table, half in shadow, half in sunlight is a familiar Roman scene: conversation, coffee, and the kind of pause that feels both ordinary and essential.
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It’s always the right time
… to light a cigar.
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Alive Or Not?
It’s a fraction of a gesture—half a figure, half a scene, the rest left to suggestion. The photograph wasn’t staged; I caught it walking past a mirrored office entrance. A man stood statue-still in the morning light, the crisp shirt collar slightly rumpled, his cardigan misaligned, tie pulled just a bit too tight. And in his hand, a cigarette—not lit, not smoked, merely held. Suspended. That detail alone tilted the entire scene into ambiguity. Technically, the image relies heavily on contrast—natural, unforgiving light from the left collides with deep shadows on the right. The tonal division reinforces the emotional ambivalence. It’s clean, yes, but harsh. The edges of the shirt…
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The Ghost
There’s an almost cinematic eeriness to this image, as if the subject has just stepped out of one reality and into another. The woman, her red hair catching the muted afternoon light, stands mid-pavement with her back partially turned. Her black gloves, long coat, and still posture evoke a figure from another era — an apparition caught in a modern street. The muted colours of the cars and buildings behind her only serve to make her presence more striking. From a compositional standpoint, the frame is well balanced. The subject occupies the vertical centre-left, her figure breaking the dominant horizontals of the street and architecture. The crossing lines of the…
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A lighter
…left for somebody to come, or hidden by someone who just left?
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Hard work
I took this photograph on a blisteringly hot summer day, the sort of day when the air seems to shimmer and the beach hums with the sounds of leisure — waves, laughter, and the distant hum of radios. But while most people lounged under neat rows of parasols, there was this man, moving with quiet determination, his back to the sea. The scene was visually irresistible: the repeating pattern of red and orange parasols receding into the distance, the bright blue rescue boat and the vivid plastic sunshades forming an almost painterly composition. The man, central in the frame, breaks the symmetry. His white shirt catches the light, contrasting sharply…
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Head-Dresser
A market stall at first glance, and yet, a surreal composition unfolds. Plastic mannequin heads rise from wooden sticks, lined up with aloof dignity, each adorned with scarves and hats meant to lure the hurried passer-by. They stare silently into space, held aloft like modern-day trophies, eerily anthropomorphic yet stubbornly artificial. The display isn’t just for commerce—it’s unintentional theatre. The pun in the title Head-dresser plays cleverly on the expected hairdresser. But instead of grooming the living, this stall ‘dresses’ the disembodied, the ornamental. These mannequins are not being styled—they are the style, repurposed vessels for fashion’s utilitarian need. And to the side, a woman walks past in winter garb, seemingly unaware of…
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Multitasking
This frame is one of those candid catches where the absurd quietly sits inside the ordinary. Two men, mid-meal, are absorbed in their respective worlds: the one in the centre toggling between a phone call and a glass of wine, the other leaning forward in conversation. The table is cluttered with the civilised chaos of lunch — sparkling water, empty glasses awaiting purpose, a scattering of breadsticks. The composition is built almost like a play: the seated figures as protagonists, the window behind them acting as both set and light source. That window, however, is a double-edged sword. The strong backlight pushed the dynamic range to its limit, forcing me…
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The Businessman…
Restless, waiting for the last flight to come back home.
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Who Dares Wins
I took this photograph on a grey, wind-bitten afternoon when the sea felt restless and the light had flattened into steel. What caught my attention wasn’t the surf but the contradiction: a warning sign standing firm in the sand, and a man walking past it as if it didn’t exist. He held a turquoise umbrella, not open but swinging at his side — a quiet rebellion against both weather and authority. The tension between rule and gesture made the image. The sign, reading Attenzione – Pericolo. Divieto di attraversamento / Scavalcamento / Transito, is bureaucratic, absolute. Yet the man ignores it, tracing his own path along the forbidden shore. It…
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Impatience
In a hurry, while somebody else is late…
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Generations
Generation after generation, the passion for the photography always lasts.
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Waiting To Board
I found this scene along a neglected stretch of riverbank—nothing curated, nothing arranged. A broken chair, its straw seat long unravelled, faced a decaying boat tethered loosely to the shore. They looked like they belonged to each other, equally abandoned, equally patient. The title came instantly. Not poetic, just accurate: Waiting to Board. The composition rests on tension—foreground versus background, texture versus reflection. The rope cuts a diagonal across the frame, literally tying the objects together. The chair leans slightly left, softened by rot and time, while the boat points right, cracked paint peeling toward the water. Neither is in motion, yet the whole image feels held in anticipation. Technically,…
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Lost in iPhone while the wind blows
A man walks along the seafront, head bowed, gaze fixed on the tiny black rectangle in his hand. His grip is firm, the frown on his forehead faint but telling. Behind him, palm trees bend slightly under the steady breath of a marine wind, and the horizon dissolves into a washed-out Mediterranean haze. It could be spring, or autumn—hard to say. The light is neutral, as if suspended. This is the image of the now: digitally connected, sensorially detached. The tide rolls, the wind whispers, figures drift in the background—and he is elsewhere. Not here, not in the place his body inhabits. Not with the sea, not with the moment.…
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Why on Earth people, in Italy, still eat junk food?
A cold night in an Italian piazza. The air carries the scent of roasted chestnuts, espresso, and wood smoke—but here, under the halo of fairy lights, the smell is unmistakably different. Oil. Sugar. Processed salt. A small crowd stands in front of a street cart, its bicycle frame weighed down with canisters, bags, and the faint hum of a generator. The vendor moves with practised speed, ladling batter, folding paper, handing over parcels of deep-fried comfort. The queue is patient, hands buried in pockets, eyes following the ritual as if it were part of the winter tradition. Beyond the cart, a carousel spins in soft blur, its music faint against…
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A Silent Dialogue
A restrained coastal tableau built around stillness and separation. The seated figure is placed slightly right of centre, turned away from the viewer, which shifts emphasis from identity to gesture and mood. The backpack anchors the narrative as travel or pause, while its bulk balances the composition against the open sand. The scene is organised in three calm bands—foreground ripples of sand, a mid-ground strip of beach, and the softly textured sea beyond. This horizontal structure stabilises the frame and amplifies the contemplative register. A lone pigeon, small but sharply legible, introduces a secondary point of attention and a faint counter-rhythm to the figure’s inward focus. Colour is deliberately subdued:…
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An Early Landscape Photography Attempts
The frame centres on a vivid orange butterfly, held in partial profile with its wings closed, set against a dense tangle of grasses and low scrub. The subject’s saturated colour provides an immediate point of emphasis, while the surrounding vegetation introduces a complex lattice of lines that both animates and competes with the focal point. A pale limestone rock occupies the right side as a strong compositional counterweight. Its softly lit surface and visible fissures add tactile interest and a clear tonal anchor, separating the butterfly’s warm hue from the busier greens and ochres behind. The diagonal stems and overlapping blades create a natural, slightly chaotic geometry that conveys a…
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Parallels & Diagonals
This blue-hour cityscape hinges on strong linear perspective: the elevated bridge on the right and the riverbanks on the left converge toward a distant vanishing point, pulling the eye cleanly through the frame. Warm street and architectural lighting contrasts with the cooling sky, creating a balanced teal–amber palette that suits twilight urban travel imagery. Reflections are the picture’s quiet engine. The river reads as a central corridor of light, with elongated highlights from lamps and windows forming a measured vertical rhythm that steadies the scene. Moored boats along the right bank add human scale and texture, preventing the infrastructure from becoming purely monumental. The exposure favours atmosphere over clinical sharpness;…
