-
Alessandro Valle – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella
When I cover singers’ concerts, I make a point of not leaving band members behind. On their shoulders lies the burden of getting the show right. Without them, there is not much a singer could do unless he is gifted with a beautiful voice and proper technique. Still, they often come unnoticed. Kudos to these musicians who make the magic happens.
You May Also Like
The Traveler’s Dilemma: Where To?
Do Not Disturb the News Reader
Different Stories
-
Venditti&DeGregori – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella
Here is the link at the gallery of the 10 August Antonello Venditti and Francesco De Gregori concert. A rather unpleasant experience, indeed. Photographers have been confined on the extreme left of the stage and not allowed to move. Of course the show comes first and any annoyance imperiling the performance must be prevented. A tad of flexibility for people who is there to work, though, would have been much appreciated.
-
José Ignacio Franco – Live@Auditorium Petruzzi
He doesn’t need to sing. His fingers do it for him. Captured in mid-strum, tocaor José Franco radiates something far more profound than musical virtuosity: duende — that elusive spirit of flamenco, born of sorrow, defiance, and joy. His guitar is not just an instrument; it’s a second voice, one that speaks the unspoken, channeling generations of Andalusian lament and celebration. Notice the scene: the blurred silhouettes of fellow musicians in the foreground, the intimacy of a rehearsal or a small performance, where the bond between tocaores is more powerful than any spotlight. The photograph’s depth of field creates a natural hierarchy — we’re drawn not just to Franco’s position, but to his expression. His smile…
-
LP – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella
More pictures available on Rockol’s Gallery section.
-
LP – Live@Anfiteatro La Civitella – The photogallery
This is the full photogallery of July 22 LP’s concert at the Anfiteatro La Civitella. I was covering the event on behalf of Rockol.it.
-
A Gull, Posing
A gull sits perched on a bollard by the water, its body angled just enough to suggest awareness of being seen. The rust-stained base, heavy and industrial, contrasts sharply with the lightness of the bird resting on top. It is a moment where function and chance converge, turning a docking post into a stage. Composition is centred and deliberate. The bollard fills the frame vertically, anchoring the image, while the gull becomes both subject and ornament. The blurred surface of the water behind isolates the scene, stripping away distraction so the viewer confronts the simple pairing of steel and feathers. Technically, exposure is well handled. The whites of the gull’s…
-
Red Fan
-
Three Lamposts
Sometimes the simplest subjects offer the richest visual rhythms. This photograph of three lampposts along a shaded path is a study in repetition, perspective, and the gentle irregularities that occur when human-made structures meet the slow reclamation of nature. The posts lean — not dramatically, but enough to betray years of shifting soil and seasonal wear — and that subtle tilt gives the image a quiet tension. The composition is carefully observed. The frame leads the eye from foreground to background in a gentle S-curve: the path winds left, the lampposts march back into the trees, and the play of shadow and sunlight dapples both ground and foliage. The staggered…
-
Over There!
The cyclist in the foreground owns the frame at first glance—muscles taut, gaze fixed, body leaning into the effort. His jersey clings to him like a second skin, the curve of his shoulders telling the story of miles already conquered. Two red water bottles glint against the blue of the bike, bright punctuation in a palette of muted earth and grey. And yet, the real tension of the image unfolds in the background. There, slightly blurred but unmistakable, a man stands with his arm extended, finger pointing decisively to the right. It is not a casual gesture—it is direction, command, certainty. In that single movement lies the unspoken pact of…
-
Three Sprouts
-
Three Tires
-
Piero Mazzocchetti – L’ultima notte di Bonfiglio Liborio
I made this photograph in the dim backstage of Teatro Marrucino, just minutes before the curtain would rise. The air was thick with that familiar mix of anticipation and quiet focus. The man sat in his chair, bent slightly forward, pen in hand, making final notes on the score under the stark glow of a music stand lamp. The rest of the stage was swallowed by darkness. Shooting with the Fuji X-T3 and the Fujinon XF 16-80 gave me the flexibility I needed in such a cramped and poorly lit space. The lens handled the low light surprisingly well, though I had to work at the edge of its capabilities…
-
Alessandro Blasioli – L’ultima notte di Bonfiglio Liborio@Teatro Marrucino
-
Technogym Milan@Night
I photographed this storefront in Milan after dark, intrigued by the way its illuminated windows cut through the night. The architecture itself is not the subject so much as the grid of glowing rectangles, each acting like a screen against the blackness of the street. The strong yellow framing lines draw the eye, repeating rhythmically across the facade, while the deep shadows surrounding them emphasise their intensity. Compositionally, I chose a wide perspective to capture the full stretch of the facade. This decision places emphasis on repetition and geometry rather than on any single detail. The asymmetry of the right side, where a bright advertisement interrupts the rhythm, creates a…
-
Ugo Pagliai – Romeo e Giulietta@Teatro Marrucino
-
Leo Gullotta – Bartleby lo scrivano@Teatro Marrucino
-
Late Night@Piazza San Babila
Working with a compact camera like the Panasonic TZ-100 at night is a reminder that you don’t always need a full-frame monster to tell a story — but you do need to understand and embrace the camera’s limitations. The TZ-100’s one-inch sensor is not built for clean, clinical low-light work. Push the ISO and it will show noise quickly; underexpose, and shadow recovery will fall apart. But here, those very traits help carry the mood. The composition rests on a central axis — the illuminated corridor pulling the viewer inward, flanked by the Binova and Ivano Redaelli showrooms. Their glowing interiors act like bookends, framing the pathway and setting a…
-
Giorgio Pasotti – Racconti disumani@Teatro Marrucino
The stage is almost bare, yet dense with implication. A man in a deep red suit leans forward over a small stepped platform, his body angled as if straining toward something invisible. The light catches the side of his face, leaving the rest of the space in heavy shadow. To his right, suspended in the darkness, an image of a bottle looms, projected larger than life—its glass skin ghostly, its presence more oppressive than inanimate. This is Kafka territory. The stripped set, the exaggerated scale, the isolation of the figure—they all speak the language of unease. The microphone at centre stage stands unused, a silent witness, or perhaps a channel…
-
Kristina Miller live@Teatro Marrucino
-
Sergey Krylov live@Teatro Marrucino
-
She Died Alone
She was a drug addict —a “junk” some righteous zealot would have called her— and died in the indifference of everybody but one. A flower and a rainbow unicorn are what keep her memory alive. The memory of a human being left alone also in her final moment.
-
Still Ruling The Empire
The statue in this image has its back turned to the camera, but it commands the frame entirely. Shot in Rome, with the dome of Santi Luca e Martina on the left and the Torre delle Milizie rising in the distance, this bronze figure—likely an emperor or general—stands as if still governing the landscape before him. I didn’t photograph the face on purpose. The power of this moment lies in presence, not identity. The shot is about line, volume, and the compression of history into layers. The trunk of the umbrella pine rises behind him like a sceptre made of wood and air, while the palatial facades blend architectural periods…
-
Get Ready, Set, Go
I’ve always enjoyed the way a single moment in the street can hold multiple narratives at once. In this frame, taken in Piazza Venezia with the Vittoriano looming behind, the cyclist seems caught between pause and motion — a split-second where the decision to push forward hasn’t yet been made. The backlighting was a gamble. Shooting into the sun with the Fuji X-T3 and the XF 16-80 meant dealing with inevitable flare, lowered contrast, and the risk of losing detail in the shadows. But I wanted that shaft of light breaking through, almost theatrical in how it picks out the rider against the cobblestones. Exposure was a compromise: holding the…
-
So Long, and Thank You for the Fish
