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Red Fan
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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…
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Three Sprouts
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Three Tires
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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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Ugo Pagliai – Romeo e Giulietta@Teatro Marrucino
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Wonder… Wall
The ball hangs in that fleeting, decisive moment — neither fully blocked nor cleanly smashed — suspended in a fraction of time that speaks volumes about the tension of beach volleyball. I took this with the Nikon D750 paired with Sigma’s 150-600 Contemporary, a combination that offers both reach and flexibility for sports work, though it demands a steady hand and a keen eye to keep subjects sharp. Compositionally, I opted for a tight crop that puts the net and players right into the viewer’s space. There’s no room here for context or the comfort of distance; you’re practically part of the rally. The branding and banners in the background…
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A Seagull
Handheld.
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Moon, hand-held
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Taking-Off
This is a test for the Viltrox AF 56/1,4 XF’s autofocus. The pidgeon took-off suddenly and I just had to point and shoot. The lens behave fairly. I didn’t plan this shot—I reacted. The pigeon launched off the cobbles just ahead of me, wings outstretched, backlit by the fragmented morning light reflecting off the street. I tracked it instinctively and pressed the shutter a fraction before it left the frame. For a moment, everything aligned: subject, motion, light, and a surprising stillness in the middle of movement. The composition isn’t textbook. The bird isn’t centred—more like hovering toward the bottom third, wings drawing a wide V across the soft texture…
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A Fountain’s Jet
I took this shot with a Viltrox AF 56/1,4 XF at full aperture. The focus reacted swiftly, and the colours’ rendition is pretty accurate. There is minimal colour fringing. However, it is more likely caused by air bubbles rather than by the lens itself. Like its bigger sibling, the AF 85/1,8 XF, this lens is excellent. Photographing water at f/1.4 is, in many ways, an exercise in precision gambling. The Viltrox AF 56mm f/1.4 XF, mounted on the Fuji X-T3, gave me a razor-thin depth of field to work with. At this aperture, there’s no room for hesitation – you either nail the plane of focus or lose the subject…
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Footprints
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Mid-Knee Clinch
This frame caught the clinch mid-knee, elbows locked, muscles in tension, balance tipping. I didn’t fire in burst—timing was deliberate. The image had to hold the convergence of force and geometry: shin to torso, fists to neck, backs arched into compression. Shot ringside at f/2.8 with a fast telephoto, ISO pushed to 3200 under dim sodium-halide lights softened by overhead mesh. Shutter at 1/640s, just enough to freeze impact without killing the tension in the stance. Noise control was adequate. Detail retained in skin texture and compression shorts without artificial smoothing. Lighting was patchy but consistent enough to avoid burnouts. Composition obeys containment. The cage creates the visual boundary, but…
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TKO
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A view of the Bologna’s Station
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The Score Keeper
There’s a subtle choreography here — one man aiming downrange, the other poised with a device held high, recording or perhaps timing. The scene is unmistakably a shooting range, but the moment is more about the roles that orbit the act itself. This isn’t just about the shooter; it’s about the infrastructure of precision, measurement, and discipline that frames the sport. Compositionally, the photograph works well with its layered focus. The viewer’s eye moves naturally from the strong diagonal of the man in white, up his raised arm, and then across to the figure in dark clothing aiming towards the target screen. The two red handprints on the barrier form…
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Luggages
I framed the beagle as one more item in the window: tagged by its harness, parked on the threshold, reflected like stock behind glass. The suitcases promise mobility. The dog, still and compliant, reads as another container to be handled, stored, and retrieved. That is the tension I wanted. Composition puts the animal slightly off-centre, level with the lowest display plinth so the eye equates subject and object. The reflection completes the conceit, doubling the dog the way duplicate models line a shelf. The pavement line anchors the scene, while the stacked cases build a grid that the body neatly occupies. Exposure is restrained to keep detail through glass and…
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When Heroes Come to Town
The armour clanked softly as he turned. Foam, paint, Velcro, and pride. I took this shot at a cosplay convention. The kind where universes blur together in the corridors and everyone is someone else for a while. He was dressed as Optimus Prime—or something close enough to carry the weight. She stood opposite, painted purple, gold-clad glove raised in mock judgment. Thanos, reimagined with a wink. I shot from behind. It felt right. Not to reveal, but to witness. There’s a kind of reverence in seeing a costume from this angle: the care in the stitching, the scuffs from wear, the illusion holding just enough to be believable—but only to…
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Emanuele Cavallucci. The New Italian Pro Boxing Welterweight Champion
Boxing is cruel to photographers. Not because it’s fast — although it is — but because it’s chaotic. In the ring, there’s no neatly choreographed movement, no second takes. You’ve got sweat flying, ropes cutting through your composition, referees wandering into frame, and the perpetual risk of being exactly half a second too late. This shot came together with the Nikon D610 paired to the Nikkor 24–120mm f/4 — a workhorse lens that, while not the fastest in maximum aperture, offers just the right flexibility for ringside work. Here, I caught the moment Cristofori’s jab lands flush on his opponent’s cheek, the head snapping back, muscles taut with the torque…
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Portrait of a Professional Pugilist. Davide De Lellis
He had the kind of face that told its own story long before a shutter ever clicked — a mix of focus, fatigue, and that guarded reserve I’ve often seen in fighters before a bout. Photographing a professional pugilist isn’t about glorifying the violence of the sport, but about catching that fleeting moment where discipline, experience, and vulnerability intersect. I chose a tight composition, keeping the frame uncluttered so the viewer’s attention rested on the expression and posture. Every crease in the skin, every glint of sweat, mattered; these details carried more weight than any background could. Depth of field was shallow enough to isolate him from distraction, but not…
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Right before the gig
This frame lives in anticipation. No players yet, but the instruments are already in dialogue — the hollow-body guitar leaning with purpose, the upright amp humming quietly to itself, the pedals strewn like notes before the solo begins. It’s a moment I’ve always found more evocative than the performance itself. The absence becomes expressive. Shot on monochrome, grain unapologetically included, this wasn’t meant to be clean or polished. I exposed to protect the highlights — the reflective lacquer of the grand piano and the shiny knobs on the amp. Shadows fall naturally, but I let them creep in unevenly, especially on the left, where the plastic chair feels like an…
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The Bell Ringer of Nikko
I waited some time before releasing the shutter on this one—not for the perfect moment, but for the right weight of silence before the sound. The act of ringing the temple bell isn’t just functional; it’s ritualistic, a gesture loaded with centuries of repetition. The photo had to feel like that: a still image of an act in motion, reverberating beyond its frame. I composed the shot dead centre to honour the symmetry of the structure. Japanese temple architecture lends itself to this kind of alignment—balanced, precise, and timeless. The bell, massive and inert, dominates the top third of the frame, while the man below draws the eye through motion,…
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A Sad Cat in a Neko Cafè
