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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…
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Alessandro Blasioli – L’ultima notte di Bonfiglio Liborio@Teatro Marrucino
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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…
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Ugo Pagliai – Romeo e Giulietta@Teatro Marrucino
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Leo Gullotta – Bartleby lo scrivano@Teatro Marrucino
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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…
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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…
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Kristina Miller live@Teatro Marrucino
The focus is tight on the pianist, capturing her in a moment of intense concentration. The lighting isolates her from the dark background, drawing attention to the subtle interplay of highlights on her hair and face. Her gaze is fixed on the piano keys or the score just beyond the frame, suggesting a deep immersion in the performance. The expression is serious and focused, conveying the discipline and precision required in classical music. The angle of the shot partially reveals the polished surface of the piano, which reflects warm tones from the stage lighting. This reflection adds depth to the composition, while the instrument’s structure forms a diagonal that guides…
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Sergey Krylov live@Teatro Marrucino
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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.
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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…
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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…
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So Long, and Thank You for the Fish
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Beach Party
Shot just after dawn, this image came together in seconds but tells a layered story of rivalry and instinct. The beach, in its usual emptiness, became a stage for the coarsely choreographed interaction between gulls and crows. I didn’t plan for a composition — I reacted to it. And yet, the result balances tension, motion, and rhythm better than many calculated frames. Technically, I leaned into softness rather than clarity. The overcast light pushed the colours into a muted palette, verging on monochrome. I let the flatness be, resisting contrast boosts in post, allowing the wet sand to mirror just enough detail without pulling the eye from the birds. Their…
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Stairway to Hell
This photograph emerged from a fascination with how architecture shifts once stripped of its context. What the lens captured here is, in essence, a flight of stairs. Yet under the harsh saturation of artificial red light and the obliteration of all surrounding detail into deep black, it becomes a surreal passage, one that feels less like a functional structure and more like an allegorical descent—or ascent, depending on how one reads it. The title, of course, plays on that ambiguity. From a compositional standpoint, the image relies heavily on abstraction. The staircase cuts diagonally across the frame, its curve creating a dynamic tension with the void beside it. Negative space…
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Sun Worshipers
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Dark Omen
I photographed this scene in late winter, when the bare trees carried no leaves and the sky pressed low with heavy clouds. The flock of birds, startled into flight, scattered across the frame in uneven patterns. Their silhouettes against the pale backdrop gave the scene a sense of unease, as though the moment was charged with something more than simple movement. Compositionally, I placed the trees as anchors, their skeletal branches reaching upward and outward, filling much of the lower frame. They serve as both structure and stage, while the birds provide rhythm and unpredictability. The flock is not evenly distributed—clusters form and break apart, guiding the eye from one…
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Gliding Away
I caught this shot as the gull moved past me, wings stretched in an elegant curve, pulling away from the frame almost as quickly as I brought the camera to my eye. Tracking birds in flight with the DA* 50-135 on the K-3 II is always a test of reflexes and technique, especially when the background is a shifting plane of textured water. The lens handled the contrast well, keeping the bird distinct enough from the muted greens and greys of the sea, though the fine detail in the wingtips fell just short of crisp — a reminder that a fractionally faster shutter speed might have been the better choice.…
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Waiting for the Fish
There’s a particular kind of pleasure in using the Pentax K-3 II paired with the DA* 50-135mm f/2.8—a combination that rewards patience much like the fisherman in this frame. The lens’s rendering and microcontrast gave me exactly what I wanted here: a clean separation between subject and background without the look feeling forced. The weather was brooding, the horizon hazy, and the colours naturally muted, so the camera’s sensor, with its well-known dynamic range, had plenty of tonal nuance to work with. The man in the red hoodie became my obvious focal point—a striking colour contrast against the cooler palette of sea and sky. His posture, hands clasped behind his…
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Should I Seat?
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Landing
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Bronine Volkit Camera Hub. Mixed feelings
The picture is self-eplaining. Patona batteries show odd parameters, while a Nikon original battery is more in line with the declared specs. This is by no way a reliable experiment, as the batteries’ state is not comparable. I will continue experimenting with different models because these results are pretty odd. However I can not blame Patona for the outcomes, for the bromine volkit itself might be defective and a fair comparison should be based upon batteries handled similarly.
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A Skateboarder
I took this shot with a long lens, standing just far enough back to flatten the scene and compress the zig-zag of the bike lane into a graphic, winding ribbon. What drew me to the moment was the contrast between the physical tension of the skateboarder’s posture and the rigid lines of the urban environment. He’s caught mid-shift — arms out, knees bent, entirely present in his balance. No theatricality, no posing. Just rhythm and gravity. The geometry of the path worked as an unintentional compositional gift. The white lines, curved rails, and signage almost funnel the viewer’s attention into the skater’s hunched figure. A classic leading-lines scenario, but more…
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After Heat, Structure
I made this photograph handheld, late afternoon. The car was still warm. Fire had done what fire does: reduced all function to form, all value to surface. What remained was metal, glass, ash—and light. I chose a shallow angle, head-on through the front windscreen, to confront the wreckage as directly as possible. The lens was at roughly 60mm, allowing a slight compression of space. I focused on the mid-depth—the charred dashboard—so the frame reads in layers: foreground (rust and blistered bonnet), middle (molten plastic and exposed seat frames), background (burned upholstery, collapsed interior geometry). Each plane tells a different part of the story. The light was flat, which helped. No…
