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Antonio Onorato
I made this image on assignment, but it ended up becoming a personal one. Antonio Onorato, mid-performance, eyes closed, completely surrendered to the instrument in his hands. That wasn’t planned — no setup, no retake. Just a split-second that happened because I was watching, not waiting. The Canon EF 100–400 isn’t the obvious choice for stage photography — especially not on a full-frame body like the 5D Mark II, which, by today’s standards, is a bit sluggish in low light. But it worked, surprisingly well. I kept the aperture wide open, ISO higher than I’d usually tolerate, and rode the shutter just fast enough to freeze the tension in his…
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Franco Cerri. The Last Jazz Living Legend
Ninety year’s old and still grooving! Franco Cerri sits in the spotlight, guitar in hand, the stage around him fading into black. His posture is relaxed, his smile unforced—this is not the grin of a performer straining for the audience, but the quiet joy of a man at home with his instrument. The fingers still know exactly where to go, gliding along the fretboard with the confidence of decades, the kind of touch that only comes from living inside the music. Behind him, half in shadow, the bassist follows, letting Cerri’s notes lead. The frame captures more than a performance—it holds the weight of history. Cerri wasn’t just a player;…
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Distraction
I’ve always been drawn to images that speak to the times we live in, and this one, captured in the dim glow of a theatre, says far more than it initially lets on. Rows of seats are filled, the stage lights cast their magenta hue across the scene, and yet the true illumination comes not from the performance, but from the tiny, cold rectangles in people’s hands. The glow of smartphone screens slices through the warm darkness, each one a small, personal theatre pulling its audience away from the real one. From a compositional standpoint, I opted for a diagonal perspective, allowing the rows of red seats to create a…
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Alex Britti – Live@Cinema teatro Massimo – Pescara
Another concert, another reportage. これらは マキシム劇場のペスカーラでアレックス Brittiのコンサートの写真です, ローマで ブルースと ポップの 音楽家です.
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Daniele Silvestri – Live@Cinema teatro Massimo – Pescara
Be Canon, Nikon or whatever, when the assignment is demanding, there is no substitute for a DSLR. I kept taking with me a Fuji (mainly, an X-E2 with the 18-55 and sometimes an X100s) as a wide-angle camera. The results are very good but, in a scenario like a theater, can’t possibly match the versatility of a 5D Mk III with the mighty Canon EF 100-400. Enjoy the pictures!
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A Sound Engineer
In this photograph, I wanted to show not the performer, but the architect of the sound. The image was taken in near-total darkness—lit only by a cold task lamp and the residual ambient from an electronic set. I waited until her face dipped into the glow of the desk lamp, her attention consumed by the maze of patch cables, mixers, and noise boxes she was bending to her will. I shot handheld at a high ISO, knowing it would introduce noise and softness, but also that any attempt to flatten the contrast would erase the mood. The exposure was pushed just enough to hold detail in the shadows while allowing…
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Gigi Cifarelli Guitar Solo (feat. Michele Di Toro) – Live@Florian Espace Pescara
This the reportage I did on behalf of Rockol.it with a Canon 5d Mk III and the venerable Canon EF 70-200/2,8. These frames came from a night where the light was scarce but the music was abundant. I knew from the start that I would have to work with the available stage lighting, which meant pushing the ISO well beyond my comfort zone. The result is a grain structure that feels almost filmic — not something I tried to hide, but rather embraced, as it adds texture that suits the intimacy of live jazz. The composition developed naturally: Gigi Cifarelli to the right, fully immersed in his guitar, and the…
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Who Can It Be Now?
He stood apart, not physically—just mentally. Everyone else was turned toward the stage, pulsing with light and sound, faces lifted, absorbed. But he was here, high above the crowd on a metal platform, lit by a cold phone screen. Not watching, not present. Swiping, scrolling, messaging—connected to everything but the moment directly in front of him. I composed this with intent. The platform rails frame him almost like a cage. He isn’t trapped, but the symbolism’s hard to ignore. The crowd beyond is dense, soft-focused, awash in ambient green and blue from the stage lights. Exposure had to be pushed—concert lighting isn’t kind to dynamic range—but I kept it tight…
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Staged?
This pictures portrays Max Gazzè 2016 tour’s official photographer asking the crowd to raise and wave the hands. Although the picture is staged (meaining: the photographer “created” the “moment” instead of waiting for it) the outcome is not, since is the result of the dialog between the photographer and the people.
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Crowd Control
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Max Gazzè Tour 2016 Live @Pescara
For this reportage I’ve borrowed a Canon 5D Mk III coupled with a EF 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6 L IS USM and my Fuji X-E2 with the XF 18-55 f/2.8-4R LM OIS. Of course, I got no operational problems with the 5D (if you know how to overcome its limits) and the lens performed very good, but I must admit that I’ve been surprised by the quality of the X-E2 images, taken at ISO 3200. Does this means that is time to trash the Canon and go for a “Fuji-only” setup? I don’t think so, in particular if telephotos are a recurring presence in the jobs. True, now Fujifilm too has a…
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A Modern Orpheus
Shot in a southern Italian city on a humid evening, this frame owes as much to the ambient noise as it does to light. The man with the guitar wasn’t playing to be heard. He was playing because he had to—sitting on his amp, cables like roots spilling out beneath him. What I saw through the viewfinder was not a performer, but a figure entirely absorbed, distanced from the crowd that had only half noticed he was even there. The Orphic analogy came naturally—not out of romanticism, but necessity. Like the myth, he’s turned away from the world, pleading into the void for something irretrievable. His face is hidden, not…
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The Violinist
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John De Leo’s Grande Abarasse Orchestra – Live
This is a reportage I did during a concert of the John De Leo’s Grande Abarasse Orchestra. Covering this performance reminded me why live concert photography is such a balancing act between observation and anticipation. Each of these images, though part of a single reportage, serves as a fragment of a larger narrative – one built on rhythm, tension, and fleeting expressions. The colour frame of the full band provides essential context, grounding the viewer in the environment. The arrangement on stage is clear, with good use of depth to layer the musicians. The lighting, though moody and uneven, is handled competently, preserving detail without blowing the highlights from the stage…
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A Cello’s Player
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Having Sax
This shot isn’t about music. It’s about friction — brass on fingers, sweat on grip, breath on reed. I didn’t wait for the solo. I framed the pause before it, when everything is coiled. The hand is relaxed, but not idle. It knows exactly where it is. I shot tight with a fast prime, 85mm wide open, to isolate the curve of the bell and the roughness of the horn’s surface — pitted and worn, not polished. This instrument has stories. It’s been around. The monochrome helps strip it down to form and texture. You feel the decades in that metal. The grain is intentional. So is the low-key lighting.…
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The Leica M9 CCDgate Outrageous Case
This is not “new” news, but is getting momentum: Leica M9′ sensors (including those fitted into the more than expensive “special” models) are plagued. The repair cost is 1.800,00 Euros plus VAT and shipping, not to mention the time needed to get the camera back (weeks? months?) Leica claims to offer paid support to the older, out-of-warranty customers but just doing a few math shows that it doesn’t worth it: if you own a between-three-and-five-years old M9 you’re supposed to pay 600,00 Euros (plus VAT etc.) while more-than-five-years old M9 owner will pay 1.200 Euros (plus VAT etc.) to get an old and outdated camera new sensor, affected by the…
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A Jazz-Manouche Guitar Player
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Streetlight Duet
Late-day sun is the best kind of collaborator—less commanding than noon, more generous than twilight. It brushed the scene just enough to lift texture from skin and fabric without blowing out detail. I didn’t ask them to pose, but the casual lean against the car and the hand over the guitar’s body settled naturally. That balance between intimacy and performative posture intrigued me. This shot could have easily slipped into cliché—two musicians and a guitar, the standard fare of street portraits. But the subtle discord between expression and energy saves it. One wears a smile that could go either way: pride or deflection. The other looks on with the quiet…
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Cupido’s Fall
There was a time when Cupido ruled the world. Not the cherubic archer of myth, but the man on the torn poster — a champion accordionist, his name blazing in dotted capitals, promising music and spectacle. Now, the paper curls at the edges, bleached and scarred by weather, the glory half-erased by time and graffiti. The god of love meets the fate of every earthly name: reduced to a fading print on a damp wall, fighting a losing battle against rust, mould, and the next layer of urban scribble. The photograph works because it understands the poetry of decay. The black-and-white treatment is an apt choice — stripping the scene…
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Portrait of Keyboard Player
He had just finished a piece when I took the shot. Head tilted, hand still resting on the keys, that slight smirk not forced but earned. This wasn’t posed—it was a breath between moments, a performer halfway out of character and halfway into self-awareness. The ambient energy of the room still swirled around him—soft voices, chairs moving, blurred motion in the background—but he held still. I composed tight to emphasise the contrast between stillness and motion. The background drags slightly, figures abstracted by a slower shutter speed, but the face and fingers are crisp—anchoring the shot where it needs to be. The lighting was mixed: tungsten overhead, cooler light from…
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Between Two Sets
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Portrait of a young guitar player
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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.
