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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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Santino’s Photo& Video at Broadway
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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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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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The Chess Players’ Summer Nest
There’s a rhythm to afternoons like this. The sun heavy in the air, the shade of the arcade offering just enough relief to keep men rooted to their chairs, eyes fixed on the chequerboard battlefield. The setting is unmistakably local — a small bar spilling its life out onto the pavement, Coca-Cola chairs scarred by years of use, walls patched and peeling. Everything here is part of the game, even the hum of conversation from the tables beyond. What makes the photograph work is its layering. The first plane is the duel: two players hunched, arms folded, eyes locked on the chessboard, their bodies mirroring each other in stubborn concentration.…
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Waiting For A Customer To Come
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Once A God
Poseidon emerges from above the sign like a relic of popular imagination—muscular torso, crown, and trident, his authority now reduced to advertising. Below him, the oversized fish and bold lettering spell out his name with certainty, though the plaster figure betrays wear, paint faded and surfaces weathered. It is not divinity but decoration, a reminder of how myth survives in commerce. Composition stresses perspective: the low angle forces the viewer to look up, as if paying homage, yet the clean blue sky strips the scene of grandeur, leaving only figure and name. The fish’s body stretches across the lower frame as a pedestal, while Poseidon’s arms, frozen mid-gesture, create diagonals…
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Mulberry Street, When Benito II Was Still There…
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The Spanish Sense of Flesh – 2
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Nightlife in Bruxelles
You can smell it before you hear it — the warm hum of beer, laughter, breath crystallising in the cold. This photo, taken in the backstreets of Brussels, isn’t a postcard of nightlife. It’s a sketch. Loose, fast, half in shadow. Which makes it all the more true. Cafés and pubs stack signs on top of each other like citations — Delirium, Floris Bar, Café, Pub, Garden. Every name lit, every door half-open, promising exactly what you need at this hour. But the terrace tables are empty, stacked in rows like punctuation marks between stories. It’s too cold to sit. Too late to be still. The people gather where the…
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The Spanish Sense of Flesh – 1
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Though Choice
It doesn’t take much to make your day happy.
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Square Three
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Poetry Still Survives
Blessed be the city, where somebody can earn his day, by selling poetry.
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A Great Marketing Stunt
Until June 1998 the Italian telephone system didn’t require to dial-in a prefix to place a local call, but this banner still lasts as nothing have changed. A great way to tell people that “we were there before…”
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The Hamlet’s Dilemma
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The New Church
In the XXIth Century, a new church grows, to satisfy old needs.
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Urban Totem
Once upon a time, a totem helped the soul to get in touch with gods. Nowadays it helps the stomach to be fed.
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Red Wine Makes Good Blood…
I made this image at the end of a long lunch — the kind where conversation lingers long after the plates are cleared, and the table becomes less of a place to eat and more a canvas of what just happened. The residue of red wine had bled into the paper surface, leaving behind those familiar circular stains — not accidental, not staged, just there. And I leaned in, glass still in hand, and shot. Technically, this is an exercise in distortion and proximity. I used a wide lens, close focus, and a shallow depth of field. The resulting visual field is warped, but purposefully. You can see the sweep…
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A Fujifilm X-E1 Annoyance
The X-E1 is a good camera, though has some annoyances that make it less handy for Street Photography. Contrary to Leica, (some) Zeiss or (some) Nikon lenses, zone-focusing is not set on the lens barrel. You must do it either through the viewfinder or the LCD, and this makes problematic the switch from one technique to another. Same is true for aperture settings. Operating the camera one-handed, happened twice to me, led to a change of the image quality settings from RAW to Jpg. Unfortunately I wasn’t aware while shooting and I’ve wasted half a day in Barcelona getting inferior quality pictures.
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Quality Check. Try Before You Buy
This image was taken outside a Parisian bookstore, a moment as classic as it is current: a man stands in the entrance, thumbing through a photobook, absorbed but casual. It’s not staged—he didn’t even glance at the camera. He was too focused, as anyone who’s spent hours weighing the purchase of one more photography book will understand. His expression wasn’t about doubt; it was about judgment—quality check, plain and simple. The composition offered itself. Framed by the bookstore’s open door, the man becomes the central figure in a visual funnel, surrounded by vertical stacks of books, postcards, and prints. The image flattens space into layered density—foreground filled with titles, background…
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Late for Lunch
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