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A Pensive Nun
I took this photo during a quiet moment in a Roman church. I wasn’t looking for drama. I wasn’t even looking for a nun. I was watching light — soft, diffused, the kind that reveals more than it conceals. Then she shifted her weight, her arm fell to the bench, and the composition drew itself. The image balances solitude and collective presence. She sits in isolation, yet she’s surrounded. Everyone in that frame is turned inward — praying, grieving, thinking, hiding. It’s an ensemble of introspection, and she anchors it without knowing. I shot this on film. Ilford HP5 pushed to 1600. The grain works with the silence; it has…
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Surreal Judo
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Lost Bag
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Getting In The Zone Before the Shot
I made this image in the seconds before the pistol was raised. No noise, no movement, just controlled breath and interior focus. The athlete’s posture says everything: shoulders relaxed, chin tucked, eyes slightly lowered toward the monitor—not in distraction, but in calibration. He’s not looking at the target; he’s visualising the result before the mechanics begin. The setting is sterile by necessity. A shooting range must eliminate variables. No colour, no texture, no distractions. That flatness worked in my favour—clean background, no depth needed, only presence. I framed it with intention: the shooter on the right third, facing inward, and the monitor on the opposite axis, forming a visual loop…
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Panning the Police
This frame it’s a reaction. A physical jolt to flashing blue, shouting, bodies in motion. I panned the camera instinctively, not to follow a subject, but to share the sensory overload of the moment. The result? A hallucination. A retinal echo of tension. Shot handheld at night, 1/2s exposure, ISO pushed to 3200. The blur is total—no anchor point, no sharp subject. Lines of neon bleed into the dark, and even the static elements—trees, pavement, the van—become fluid. That’s the point. This isn’t about precision; it’s about disruption. I framed with the van off-centre, allowing room for the bodies in blue and those not in uniform. Movement traces direction. We…
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The Modern Preacher
Sometimes, the most telling political images are made not in the glare of press conferences, but from the margins—from the places where presence is tolerated but not invited. This frame was taken from outside a closed-door meeting, the camera positioned behind a security mesh that divides the observer from the observed. Through the diamond pattern, a cluster of suited silhouettes gathers around a glowing screen. At the centre, partially obscured yet unmistakably in command, the party leader leans forward, his expression a mix of resolve and calculation. The geometry of the mesh becomes part of the narrative: an imposed barrier that both conceals and frames. It reminds us that power…
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Three Shadows
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Argument on the Range
I took this photograph during a sports shooting competition, and despite what the title might suggest, there was no animosity in the air—only a civil, animated exchange between two competitors. In the image, the man on the left, in his blue cap, leans forward slightly, speaking with deliberate emphasis, while the man on the right, hands raised, listens intently, possibly offering a counterpoint. Behind them, a third figure stands blurred, clipboard in hand, an observer or official adding quiet context to the scene. From a compositional standpoint, the choice of shallow depth of field works in favour of the narrative. The two men in sharp focus create an intimate focal…
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The Hacker and the Photographer
I took this photograph during an outdoor gathering of hackers, where conversations drifted as naturally as the summer air. The two men stood facing each other, locked in dialogue, their body language hinting at the exchange of ideas. One, casual in a T-shirt, gestures while speaking; the other, with a camera slung across his chest, listens intently, head slightly tilted, eyes narrowed in concentration. The composition is straightforward yet effective. By framing the two figures close, the photograph captures intimacy without needing to show the crowd around them in detail. The background is softly blurred, thanks to a shallow depth of field, which keeps the focus on the interaction. The…
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Ultras
I took this shot in Pescara during a night of celebration and mayhem—where passion collided with authority, and the air thickened with smoke, sweat, and sound. It wasn’t violence, not quite. It was euphoria channelling itself into a public rite, where boundaries between fanfare and disorder blurred in real time. From a photographic standpoint, the scene presented a compositional chaos that demanded structure. I used the police car as an anchor. It sits dead centre, unintentionally symbolic, both literally and metaphorically surrounded. The crowd’s energy surges outward from it, flags, limbs, phones, chants—all reaching towards the bus in the background that carries the real object of devotion: the team. Technically,…
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A Special Dress for a Special Party
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Hanging
Do dangerous things safely. 安全に危険なものを行います
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Daniele Silvestri – Live@Cinema teatro Massimo – Pescara
Be Canon, Nikon or whatever, when the assignment is demanding, there is no substitute for a DSLR. I kept taking with me a Fuji (mainly, an X-E2 with the 18-55 and sometimes an X100s) as a wide-angle camera. The results are very good but, in a scenario like a theater, can’t possibly match the versatility of a 5D Mk III with the mighty Canon EF 100-400. Enjoy the pictures!
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A Sound Engineer
In this photograph, I wanted to show not the performer, but the architect of the sound. The image was taken in near-total darkness—lit only by a cold task lamp and the residual ambient from an electronic set. I waited until her face dipped into the glow of the desk lamp, her attention consumed by the maze of patch cables, mixers, and noise boxes she was bending to her will. I shot handheld at a high ISO, knowing it would introduce noise and softness, but also that any attempt to flatten the contrast would erase the mood. The exposure was pushed just enough to hold detail in the shadows while allowing…
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A Lamp in an Old Teather
There is something quietly poetic about an object photographed in isolation, removed from its intended context yet still resonating with hints of its former life. This image — a simple floor lamp set against a timeworn, crimson theatre curtain — speaks volumes in its sparseness. The lamp, with its contemporary, almost utilitarian design, stands in stark contrast to the opulent, textured backdrop, a relic from an era when theatres embraced velvet and grandeur. From a compositional standpoint, the decision to place the lamp off-centre allows the folds and rich patina of the curtain to dominate the frame. The interplay between the deep reds, the lamp’s soft white glow, and the…
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Portrait of a Law Professor (and Free Climber…)
Some portraits speak as much through their surroundings as through the subject’s face. This image—shot on T-Max 400—was conceived to be less about formality and more about quiet juxtapositions. The professor, sharply dressed in a waistcoat and tie, sits in an office that is anything but stiff: behind him, a large photograph of a free climber grips the rock face with raw, physical intensity. The contrast is the story. The academic’s world is one of precision, argument, and interpretation of law; the climber’s, one of risk, strength, and moment-to-moment survival. And yet, the connection between the two is more than decorative. This professor is himself a climber—an individual who understands…
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Portrait of a Gunsmith
No bravado. No noise. Just focus. This is not a scene from a film. It’s a portrait of a gunsmith — hands steady, brow drawn in close. The room is small, functional, the shelves stacked. There’s no display of violence here. No suggestion of power. Only the patient act of tuning metal into balance. He’s wearing gloves, not out of fear, but out of respect — for the tool, for the work, for the ritual. The gun isn’t loaded. It isn’t posed. It’s an object in process. A mechanism being read, understood, maintained. I took this photo in near silence. The only sound was the faint click of a slide…
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An Old Boxing Gym
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Real Time Update
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Who Can It Be Now?
He stood apart, not physically—just mentally. Everyone else was turned toward the stage, pulsing with light and sound, faces lifted, absorbed. But he was here, high above the crowd on a metal platform, lit by a cold phone screen. Not watching, not present. Swiping, scrolling, messaging—connected to everything but the moment directly in front of him. I composed this with intent. The platform rails frame him almost like a cage. He isn’t trapped, but the symbolism’s hard to ignore. The crowd beyond is dense, soft-focused, awash in ambient green and blue from the stage lights. Exposure had to be pushed—concert lighting isn’t kind to dynamic range—but I kept it tight…
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Staged?
This pictures portrays Max Gazzè 2016 tour’s official photographer asking the crowd to raise and wave the hands. Although the picture is staged (meaining: the photographer “created” the “moment” instead of waiting for it) the outcome is not, since is the result of the dialog between the photographer and the people.
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Crowd Control
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Accidental Precision
This wasn’t a technical success. It was a mistake. I had just raised the camera when I accidentally twisted the zoom ring mid-exposure. The result: a vortex of distortion with a woman at the centre, walking straight into it. And yet, it worked. Not in spite of the blur—but because of it. The composition wasn’t planned, but it landed with an unexpected balance. The vanishing point draws backward, while the red coat blasts forward—like pigment dragged across the frame by a restless brush. The background—palm trees, streetlights, suburban geometry—melts into curves, turning realism into gesture. This image violates every rule of clarity. It’s not sharp. Her face is unreadable,…
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Multiple Peripheral Visions
This frame was shot instinctively—no time to refocus, no second attempt. What emerged is less a photograph than a study in misdirection. Every figure in this image is out of focus, yet the meaning is sharper than most high-resolution portraits. The scene plays like theatre. A soldier, heavily armed, stands at ease in the foreground. A woman in heels walks away, blurred into silhouette. In the background, people sit, smoke, talk, check phones. The corridor and its black door—dead centre, unnerving in its neutrality—stares back like a question. The sign reads “BALCONE DIPLOMATICO,” almost comical in its contrast to the ordinariness of what surrounds it. Technically, it’s a failure by…
