-
Belgian Chocolate – Godiva
-
The Jewels Sale
Photographing through glass is always a test of patience. Here, I wanted to capture not just the jewellery but the human presence behind it—the quiet choreography of selling and browsing. The glass served as both barrier and canvas, introducing subtle reflections that blend the sparkle of the display with the blurred outlines of the people behind it. Compositionally, the image leans on the central placement of the black necklace bust. Its matte surface contrasts with the glint of gold and the shimmer of stones around it, giving the frame a clear focal point. The surrounding watches and earrings fill the edges without overwhelming the centre, leading the viewer’s gaze in…
-
Belgian Chocolate – Neuhaus
Photographing in a place like this Neuhaus boutique is always an exercise in restraint. The scene is a sensory overload: gold, red, pastel blues, mirrored surfaces, and the intricate geometry of countless chocolate boxes. It’s easy for the camera to drown in the details, and the trick is to find an anchor point—the human presence that gives context and focus. Here, that anchor is the shop assistant, absorbed in her task, the bend of her head drawing the viewer into the very centre of the composition. The overhead golden arc with the reversed “1970” is not accidental—it creates a frame within the frame, hinting at the brand’s heritage while subtly…
-
A Lamp
-
Glancing Books In A Brussels’Night
A casual walk in a Brussels’early evening, wandering through the old streets near the city centre. The light from a comic-book shop window cut into the dark pavement like a beacon. Inside, Tintin, Snowy, and the bright spines of Hergé’s world stood stacked and waiting — nostalgia perfectly lit for passers-by. Then a man stopped with his bicycle, leaning slightly toward the glass. He didn’t enter; he only looked — half-curious, half-distracted. The glow of the display made him a silhouette, almost part of the window’s composition. His reflection blended with the books, erasing the boundary between observer and story. For a moment, the scene assembled itself.
-
Fancy a Beer?
In the warm light of a Brussels beer shop, shelves stacked floor to ceiling with bottles, two men weigh a purchase. One holds the bottle carefully, the other studies it with interest, a wicker basket dangling between them. Their small exchange sits at the heart of the frame, illuminated against the darker figures of passersby drifting in and out of the doorway. The composition splits into layers: the inviting glow of the shop interior, the mid-ground where the buyers stand, and the silhouetted outlines of those entering or leaving. This layering gives depth, making the viewer feel both inside and outside at once. The shelves, neatly arranged in repeating verticals…
-
Inside the Palaces of Power – Bruxelles
The first thing that strikes me about this image is its deliberate sense of distance—not just physical, but psychological. We see a woman from behind, walking away toward a set of glass doors, her stride steady, her posture contained. There’s no attempt to catch her expression; her anonymity allows her to stand in for anyone navigating the quiet, often opaque corridors of authority. The architecture plays as much of a role here as the human subject. Vertical wooden slats flank either side, creating a symmetrical frame that channels our gaze straight toward the central doors and the clock above them. The space is clean, polished, almost acoustically still. The high-gloss…
-
RedLight
-
Sweet Dilemma
I took this photograph in one of those shops that could easily bankrupt anyone with a sweet tooth. The window was a theatre stage, and the protagonists were mountains of meringues, chocolates, and sugared confections, all arranged with military precision. The display was so perfectly composed it demanded to be photographed — though translating that abundance into a frame without losing the sense of order was a challenge in itself. I shot head-on, centring the display so the symmetry would hold the composition together. The large glass bowls act as visual anchors, while the pyramid of packaged goods in the middle draws the eye inward. Behind, two figures — the…
-
Buying Chocolate
-
Seeing What Isn’t There
There’s no I Ching here. No coins. No symbols. No prophecy. And yet. This photo isn’t about what’s captured by the lens — it’s about what the mind decides is there. Three indistinct shadows above. Two sets of parallel lines below. That’s all. And yet, somewhere between them, something ancient is conjured. A trigram. A casting. A flipped coin in mid-air. Logic says: it’s a vent and the shadows of round objects on a backlit surface. But vision isn’t logic. It’s memory, pattern, story — all stitched together before you’re even aware you’re looking. Photography is often obsessed with truth. With freezing the real. But sometimes the most compelling images…
-
Macarons. Again
I made this photograph inside a pâtisserie, focusing on a glass bowl overflowing with pastel-coloured macarons. The shallow depth of field brings the confectionery into crisp attention while softening the background, where figures and shelves dissolve into warm blur. The arrangement of sweets, piled almost carelessly, conveys abundance rather than the rigid order usually associated with patisserie display. Technically, the image works through contrast of light and tone. The reflective surface of the glass bowl catches highlights, while the soft illumination keeps the delicate textures of the macarons intact. The exposure holds steady despite mixed lighting, managing both the bright surfaces of the sweets and the darker recesses of the…
-
Belgian Hats
-
Avvocati. A New Book
I’ve just finished the project I’ve been working in the past months. Lawyers’ human and private face.
-
Shaken
The frame is a study in disarray — not in subject matter alone, but in its very execution. The scene, taken on a busy street, is blurred throughout: the figures, the car, the elegant repetition of arches behind them. Whether caused by an unsteady hand, a slow shutter, or a deliberate choice, the result is an image where nothing stands still enough to become the focal point. Two figures anchor the composition: one in the foreground to the left, caught mid-turn, the other to the right, hunched over something in his hands. Their outlines dissolve into the tonal softness, denying the viewer access to facial expression or fine detail. The…
-
Not Sure I Would Like The Feel
There’s something both fascinating and faintly unsettling about this photograph. At first glance, it’s a familiar object — a double bass, resting in its case, warm varnished wood catching the light. But then the eye meets the alien appendages: an elaborate framework of carbon-fibre rods, clamps, and actuators, bolted to the instrument’s body. Tradition and craft meet machine logic here, in a way that’s almost confrontational. From a compositional standpoint, the photographer has made a decisive choice to fill the frame with the instrument, anchoring it in the lower half while allowing the vertical lines of the robotic structure to carry the gaze upwards. The background, populated with drums, flight…
-
Avid Readers
-
Into The Cube
I photographed this concrete corner because of its geometry. The space is small, closed, almost recessive—but the lined patterning on the surfaces gives it a quiet insistence. The vertical grooves on the walls and the rougher texture of the floor create a minimalist composition defined almost entirely by repetition and wear.
-
Blow Up
-
Fun
-
Histoire d’O
Photography has a curious relationship with meaning. Sometimes it offers us a direct line to an obvious narrative; other times, it teases us with ambiguity, compelling the mind to reach for significance where perhaps none exists. This image—an aged, weathered architectural oval, framed in peeling plaster—belongs firmly in the latter category. Its title, Histoire d’O, borrows knowingly from the controversial novel of the same name, inviting the viewer to read into its form, its texture, and its emptiness. Technically, the photograph demonstrates a strong command of tonal control. The black-and-white treatment emphasises the interplay between texture and shadow, revealing the rough grain of the plaster, the fine cracks tracing across…
-
Columns
In Brussels, this curved colonnade sits like an architectural punctuation mark in the middle of a park — a statement without a sentence. I positioned the frame to face it directly, giving symmetry the upper hand. The central alignment was intentional: it allows the gentle arc of the structure to pull the eye from one end to the other without distraction. The light was flat, filtered by a heavy overcast, which meant no harsh contrasts or deep shadows. This helped preserve the fine details in the stone — the weathering, the subtle variations in tone — while keeping the surrounding foliage rich but not overpowering. The grey of the columns…
-
Orange Scarf
-
Uchi-Mata
