Photographing this scene with the Leica M9, I was conscious of wanting to hold the atmosphere of a summer night where history and spectacle meet. The procession of vintage cars is framed by a corridor of spectators, their attention divided between living the moment and documenting it through their phones. The motorcade moves away from me, which allows the viewer to share my vantage point — both a participant and an observer, close enough to feel the heat of the engines, yet outside the flow of the event. Compositionally, the perspective lines of the barriers guide the eye straight to the lead car, and further still down the illuminated street…

I shot this with a Leica M9 late one night, leaning out from the kerb on a curve that begged for something fast and unreasonable to come tearing through it. And eventually, this red Italian masterpiece did exactly that—roaring past with the kind of throaty snarl that makes small children cry and grown men buy things they shouldn’t. What you’re seeing isn’t an accident. It’s the moment velocity became geometry. The long exposure distorts everything into kinetic abstraction: the trees become green flame, the streetlamps twist into electric comets, the background collapses into a wash of speed-induced delirium. But the car—mid-century, low-slung, all attitude—remains just visible enough to read as…