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Lost Cellos
There’s something unsettling about musical instruments left alone. Cellos, in particular, carry a visual weight even when silent — the curve of the body, the arch of the bridge, the scroll’s delicate twist. In this scene, set against the pale facade of an Italian street, they lie scattered, leaning awkwardly against bright red plastic chairs, as though abandoned mid-performance. I was drawn to the tension between elegance and neglect. The geometry of the composition came naturally — the red chairs punctuating the frame, the arc of the white wall detail acting almost like a silent proscenium arch. The absence of people intensifies the stillness, making the instruments feel orphaned. From…
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A Fisherman
There is an honesty to this image that immediately draws me in — a straightforward, unembellished portrait of labour and craft. The fisherman, head bent in concentration, works his net with the steady rhythm of someone who has done this countless times before. The choice to focus on the act of repair, rather than the act of fishing, shifts the narrative from the sea’s drama to the quiet maintenance that sustains a livelihood. Compositionally, the photograph benefits from its use of leading lines. The fishing net, stretched out toward the left of the frame, guides the viewer’s gaze straight to the fisherman’s hands — the heart of the story. The…
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Red Curtains
It caught me as I was leaving a small trattoria, the kind where wine glasses reflect years of conversation and meals stretch long into the evening. The curtain—the protagonist here—isn’t just a physical separator. It’s a thin veil between what’s public and what should remain private. I let the fabric dominate the composition. Its translucent quality distorts the background just enough to suggest, not show. The folds create a rhythm, a vertical cadence against the more chaotic, lived-in blur of the interior. The exposure was tricky. Balancing the warmth of incandescent lighting with the saturation of the red was key—push too far, and the tones bleed; underexpose, and the shadows…
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A Broken Gearwheel
I came across this fragment of concrete by chance — two heavy, jagged halves lying on a bed of smooth stones, their shapes echoing the teeth of a gearwheel. It looked industrial, almost mechanical, yet entirely static and inert. There was no motion here, only the suggestion of it, frozen in decay. When I composed the frame, I aimed to make the gear the clear focal point while still allowing the surrounding textures to play their part. The roughness of the stone bed contrasts nicely with the flat, worn surface of the concrete pieces. The diagonal orientation of the gear halves gives the image a touch of dynamism that the…
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A Green Patch
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A Standup Paddleboarder
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Snorkeling
I made this photograph with a Pentax K-5 II and the humble SMC Pentax 18-55, a kit lens that, while often underestimated, has served me well in situations where flexibility is more important than technical perfection. Framing was a game of patience here. The snorkeller moved slowly into my line of sight, framed naturally by the foreground rocks, which form a rough vignette and create a sense of peeking into a private scene. This kind of natural framing can be both a gift and a curse: while it gives depth and directs the eye, it also forces me to deal with tricky metering. In this case, I exposed for the…
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When We Thought We Would Have Changed The World
I took this photograph at a street market, where these shirts hung in plain view, each one shouting a message of defiance. Slogans, graphics, and colours combined into a tapestry of protest, reminders of a time when politics and identity were worn quite literally on the chest. The immediacy of the words—ribelli sempre, non mi avrete mai come volete voi—speaks of resistance, of collective identity built in opposition to authority. I framed the image tightly to remove context and distractions. The viewer is left with nothing but the shirts, their messages, and the pins holding them up. This close composition turns an everyday street scene into a typographic study. The…
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Sea Anemones Shot With A Cheap Kit
A modest waterproof case. A curious eye. A tide pool teeming with colour and texture. This photograph captures more than just two sea anemones nestled in their rocky enclave. It captures the enduring truth that photography is not always about the gear — but about the gaze. No high-end housing, no bespoke optics — just patience, instinct, and the will to submerge the lens where it rarely dares to go. The shallow water refracts the light into a painterly softness. Reflections and shadows dance on the submerged stones. The vivid, almost surreal red of the anemones emerges against a muted background, revealing an alien world within reach of a…
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A Jazz-Manouche Guitar Player
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Waiting To Board At Santa Margherita Ligure
Crowds have their own choreography. This moment, taken on the waterfront of Santa Margherita Ligure, is less about any single subject and more about the small, unspoken narratives that weave together in a public space. Nobody is looking at the same thing, yet they are all connected by the same purpose — waiting for the boat. From a compositional standpoint, I deliberately let the frame fill with people, favouring density over isolation. The image works because of its layers: the foreground with its sharply focused details, the mid-ground of partially obscured figures, and the soft backdrop of the harbour and town. Each layer adds depth without distracting from the central…
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Under The Rocks
I made this photo from a pier, camera pointed straight down. No filter, no polariser — just sun, salt, and a moment of stillness on the surface. Below, the usual tangle of seaweed and barnacles on stone, but what caught me wasn’t the marine life — it was the way the water rearranged the image as I watched. Distortion became a kind of painterly gesture. The composition is almost accidental. I didn’t frame with precision — I let the edges fall where they would. The stone fills the middle, but it’s the border between water and air, between visibility and motion, that gives the photo its tension. You’re not just…
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Bless or Curse?
I took this photograph standing behind the statue, looking out over the marina. The choice of viewpoint was deliberate—front-facing statues are expected, almost ceremonial; from behind, they become more ambiguous. Without the expression to guide us, the outstretched arms could be offering a blessing to the yachts in the bay, or perhaps condemning their excess. The composition is simple but layered. The statue dominates the left third of the frame, creating a strong vertical anchor, while the open space of the sea and sky fills the rest. The boats, scattered across the water, offer points of visual interest without competing for attention. The horizon is placed high enough to balance…
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A Young Sailor in Open Sea
I made this photograph on a calm summer morning, the sea flat as polished glass and the light still gentle, skimming across the water like a whisper. The subject—a boy alone in an Optimist dinghy—caught my eye not for his skill or posture, but for the sheer quietness of the moment. He’s not posing. He’s not performing. He’s learning, observing, maybe hesitating. And in that brief hesitation, the photograph took shape. The composition is deliberately simple. The frame is tight enough to remove distractions, allowing the viewer to focus on the relationship between the sailor and his boat. His red lifejacket breaks the soft palette of blue and white, creating…
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Inside the Nazario Sauro
Looking through a watertight bulkhead of the Nazario Sauro, the cold geometry of war endures in steel, cables, dials and cathode-ray screens. The composition is structured by layers: iron framing, claustrophobic corridors, an old radar glowing faintly in the dark. Emptiness fills the frame, and yet it speaks of presence. Of watchfulness. Of command. There are no people here—only ghosts of orders barked, bearings plotted, torpedoes primed. Everything is still, museum-still. But the submarine’s essence hasn’t retired. Its mass, its function, its purpose remain engraved in the very angles and wires now dormant. A chair sits in front of the radar—straight, waiting, unoccupied. It could be yesterday, or seventy years ago.…
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Passage Lost
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Red Lock At Genova’s Dock Arsenal
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Santino’s Photo& Video at Broadway
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Generations – I
In a sunlit alley, life unfolds in layers of time. Two older men stand in conversation by a shuttered shop, their bodies relaxed yet anchored in the familiarity of routine. Their exchange is unhurried, belonging to a pace that has watched decades pass in these same streets. A few steps away, a man pushes a stroller through the narrow path, his back turned, moving forward into the day. In that simple motion, another generation is carried into the world—a reminder that time does not stand still, even in the most timeless corners of a city. The street itself seems to join the dialogue of generations. Tall, weathered buildings lean toward…
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Conversations, Silences, and Street Life
I took this photo on a market day in a small Italian town—one of those moments where nothing happens, and yet everything is happening. The street café was squeezed between stalls and pedestrian flow, and I noticed how time seemed to pass differently at each table. In the foreground, two women, elegantly aged, sat in full conversation, flanked by shopping bags and sun-faded handbags. Behind them, two men—one turned, one leaning—observed, disengaged but present. A quiet choreography of glances, posture, distance. The scene reads like a layered composition. Foreground, midground, background—each one active, but narratively distinct. I framed the shot from an angle that allowed these strata to settle into…
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Call On The Docks
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Friends
There is a certain quiet joy in photographs that capture the ease and warmth of companionship. Friends presents just such a moment — a woman and her dog sharing a gentle exchange on a patch of summer grass. No theatrics, no posed glamour; just a fleeting instance of mutual attention and affection. The composition makes effective use of depth and framing. The low camera angle places the viewer almost at the dog’s eye level, encouraging an empathetic connection with the animal. The human subject is positioned slightly off-centre, balancing the frame against the mass of greenery to the left. This not only prevents the image from feeling static but also…
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Relax At The Rapallo’s Marina
I remember walking past this café terrace at the marina in Rapallo and being drawn to the contrasting energies it contained. In the foreground, a woman in a red dress sits absorbed in her magazine, her body language completely self-contained. Just beyond her, a small group of older men and women are animated in conversation, their faces alive with expression. The scene felt like two parallel worlds inhabiting the same space—private quiet and social exchange—separated only by a few metres of wicker furniture. The colour red became the unifying element. The woman’s dress, the handbag on the sofa beside her, and the clothing of the woman facing away from the…
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Staring At The Infinite (While Waiting For The Fishes)
On a calm afternoon by the Ligurian coast, the sea was neither rough nor still, and time seemed to have slowed to match the rhythm of the waves. The fisherman sat among the rocks, his body angled slightly toward the horizon, hands resting loosely near the rods. There was no urgency in his posture—only patience. The red cap, almost absurd in its brightness, became the visual anchor in an otherwise muted palette of stone, water, and sky.
