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Gotcha!
It was the contrast that caught my eye. A man stands knee-deep in the Adriatic shallows, focused, precise, moving a small blue net through the water like he’s brushing dust off glass. He’s working under the shadow of a trabocco—a towering wooden fishing machine, all cables and beams, designed to drop massive nets and haul in fish by the hundreds. The kind of structure that speaks of industry, tradition, scale. But here he is. Alone. Shirtless. Waist-deep. Fishing by hand. The second frame pulls back. You see it all—the full span of the trabocco, its arms stretched wide like a maritime cathedral. And at the base, dwarfed by design, the same man…
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Is This Smoke?
It seems so.
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Who Said That Music Is Relaxing?
Performance photography often leans on grand gestures—flying hair, dramatic spotlight, or an ecstatic soloist. I went in the opposite direction here, waiting for a moment of exhaustion rather than exaltation. The guitarist’s slumped posture, arm draped over his face, dissolves the illusion of effortless expression. It’s not stage fright or defeat—just the inescapable weight of presence. Shot from the stalls with a moderate telephoto, I aimed to compress the performer and his instrument, emphasising their closeness. The guitar, held tightly even in rest, becomes an extension of the body rather than a separate tool. The body language is loud, even if the room was likely hushed. I chose not to…
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Easy Parking
He wasn’t in a hurry. The light was sharp, late afternoon, cutting across the concrete pillar like a blade, and he took his time adjusting the bags on the handlebar. A pair of shorts, sandals, striped shirt — nothing out of place, nothing performative. A man and his bicycle in a pocket of shadow beneath an overpass, with the river just behind. I didn’t move, didn’t call out. Just raised the camera and took the frame. This is a photo built on tension between geometry and decay. The straight line of the railing, the vertical force of the pillar, the rhythm of the bridge in the background — all intersect…
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Uncertainity
Photographs taken in urban dockside environments often carry a layered narrative—of industry meeting leisure, of movement paused, of a city’s arteries stretching both above and below the waterline. This image, with its juxtaposition of a small, worn boat in the foreground and the sweeping, multi-tiered bridges beyond, encapsulates that tension between the static and the dynamic. From a compositional perspective, the wooden railing in the foreground frames the lower half of the image, anchoring the scene and guiding the viewer’s gaze towards the boats. The man standing by the rail, casual in stance and attire, adds a human scale that balances the massive concrete structures above. His positioning—turned slightly away…
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Smile!
Smile! It’s contagious!
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Early Morning Shaving on The Beach
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Is The Sky Falling On Their Heads?
The photograph wasn’t planned. It was simply observed — a pocket of time, mid-afternoon, Abruzzo heat bearing down, the kind that slows everything to a stubborn crawl. I stood facing this kiosk-bar, the kind you find near campsites and old swimming pools, and pressed the shutter as the two men crossed paths. It wasn’t about them, specifically. It was about the echo — the posture, the bellies, the slightly arched backs, the shared suspicion of something overhead. The title is a nod, of course — Uderzo and Goscinny’s Asterix stories, and that primal fear of the sky falling on our heads. These men could have walked straight off a panel…
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A few shots from a Paco de Lucia live performance
A few shots from a Live Report I did for Rockol.it, an online music magazine
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An Evening Chat
The heat is unbearable in the evening of summer, but it doesn’t stop people from enjoying the outdoor nightlife.
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Careful With That Bike, Eugene!
Sticks And Stones Can Break My Bones…
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Life, the Universe and Everything
…Told U So!
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Self-Defense
Three against one…
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While the kids grow-up…
While the kids grow-up, a father waits with patience.
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Portrait of a Waiter
Another day is going to start, and the ashtrays are ready to filled by the deadly dust…
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Hair Cut
Early in the morning first things first: a clean haircut before anything else.
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The Cameraman
There’s a quiet heroism to the figure of a cameraman mid-shoot. This image captures that intensity — the squint of concentration, the firm but fluid grip on the camera, the slight tilt of his head as if aligning himself with the rhythm of the scene unfolding before him. The bright red of the staircase behind him injects energy into the frame, contrasting sharply with his dark clothing and the muted tones of the camera equipment. The composition works in part because it respects the subject’s craft. The frame is tight enough to convey focus, yet wide enough to hint at context: the scaffolding, the staging, the theatre of production. The…
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The Suit
How would it feel like, when everybody around goes to the beach, wearing a suit and going to the office?
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Get Ready for The Duty
Twilight hits differently in industrial spaces — it smooths the sharp angles and softens the glare of primary colours. This shot, taken just outside the Stadio Adriatico, finds a firefighter in quiet preparation while the world behind him begins to stir. The fire engine’s bold typography — VIGILI DEL FUOCO — is less a design element than a declaration, slicing across the frame in a defiant horizontal. I composed this frame to split the visual tension. On the right, a single man and a machine. On the left, a group of police officers huddled in conversation, their presence as much about routine as readiness. The stairs and monumental architecture climb…
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Have fun…
This is the mood music should always create… (so long, jazz players)
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Lorenzo negli stadi
Rockol.it – a music-oriented online magazine I work with – published the reportage I did at the Jovanotti’s “Lorenzo negli stadi tour 2013” in Pescara (IT). Here are the other pictures.
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The SoundMaster
You don’t usually see them—not really. They’re always there, but never in the spotlight. Still, without them, there wouldn’t be a show. I was at a concert recently, camera in hand, doing what I normally do—trying to catch something a little off-stage, something that tells the rest of the story. That’s when I spotted him: back to the crowd, eyes on the board, headphones hanging loose around his neck. Focused, steady. Doing the kind of work that only gets noticed when something goes wrong. I framed the shot from behind. The lights of the soundboard, all blinking and glowing, lit up the edges of his shirt—a simple icon of a…
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Three of a Kind
Shot from street level, this image captures an everyday theatre performed quietly on a terrace. Three people — two women and one man — are held together by proximity but separated by gesture, expression, and posture. It’s a fleeting constellation of personalities, caught just before it disperses. I was struck by the triangular tension: the woman on the left, sporting a bicycle helmet and pursed lips, locked in on the man’s casual delivery. He stands as the pivot, mid-sentence, while the third figure leans away, hand on neck, visibly disengaged. The emotional distance between them expands far beyond the physical. Technically, the image relies on a crisp focus and compressed…
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Evolution of a Guitar Player
It’s strange how a decade can pass in the blink of an eye — and yet carry with it the weight of evolution. The last time I met Roberto Di Virgilio, he had a Steinberger in his hands: all sharp edges, carbon fibre, and the aura of the 1980s futurism that guitarists either loved or dismissed outright. Seeing him now, a Les Paul slung across his shoulder, feels almost like a chapter shift in a novel I didn’t realise I was still reading. The photograph was taken in the kind of setting that usually conspires against the photographer: a stage during setup, flat midday light filtered through the structure above,…
