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Cognitive Dissonance
In advertising, sometimes, disregard for reality is a deliberate choice because the aim is to pique the viewer’s curiosity no matter what. At other times, though, it is the result of cognitive dissonance leading to mismatched reality’s depiction, as in the case of the prop in this photo, which I took at La Rinascente in Rome, meant to work as an ad for Swiss International Air Lines and Switzerland as a winter touristic location. At first, I didn’t understand what was wrong with it. The idea looked fairly average —ordinary, I would say: a plane’s fuselage with windows, and videos were shown as if they were the outside view that…
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Masters of Propaganda
In the heart of Rome, unbeknownst to the horde of tourists heading for Trinità dei Monti and the Fontana della Barcaccia, hidden in plain sight lies silent the headquarter of the Congregazione de propganda fide, the ante litteram master of modern propaganda.
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Justice measured as the distance between Words and Facts
This photo, in itself, is nothing special. Bur it carries an implicit message about law and rights: the level of democracy in a country is measured by the distance between bold statements and the daily courtroom’s reality.
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Imitation of Banksi
Some photographs happen because you spot them at the right time; others, because the right lens lets you see them from a distance before they disappear. This was the latter. Walking past a construction site, I noticed a splash of red against the pale, textured hoarding — a painted figure in a hat and long coat, back turned, hands behind him, staring through a broken window. The text alongside reads: “Segui il cantiere – Un omaggio ai pensionati, risorsa del quartiere” (“Follow the construction site – A tribute to pensioners, the neighbourhood’s resource”). It’s part humour, part homage, a knowing wink to the archetypal retiree who spends his days watching…
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Sky Patrol
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Dark Cloud Over San Pietro
The tension wasn’t subtle. I framed this on a humid Roman afternoon, the kind where the air sticks and light flattens the facades. At the vanishing point: San Pietro, serene and untouchable, a facade that’s absorbed centuries of ceremony and conflict. But in the foreground—armoured steel, automatic rifles, and red-striped barricades—modern anxieties assert themselves. This is what occupation looks like when dressed as precaution. The symmetry of the shot exaggerates the contrast. The axis from the dome to the vehicle is mathematically clean, unnerving in its balance. You can’t not look down the middle, and once your eyes reach the Iveco Lince, you realise you’re not a tourist anymore. You’re…
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Strategy
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The Flame is Still Burning…
I framed this image at the Altare della Patria in Rome, positioning myself low enough that the eternal flame rose against the statues behind it. I wanted the flame to feel alive, not simply ornamental, so I allowed it to breathe in the frame — neither perfectly centred nor clipped — letting the movement of the fire contrast with the stony immobility of the figures. Technically, it’s a shot about balance. The ornate bronze of the burner holds deep shadows and highlights, and getting both to read required a careful exposure, leaning slightly toward underexposing to preserve the flame’s detail. The sky was playing along that day, with just enough…
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The Quiet Riot
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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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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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Safe Living (?)
I took this photograph sitting at a café table in Brussels, camera inconspicuously in hand, not to catch a moment of drama but to freeze the dissonance that unfolded naturally. A plate of food cooling in the foreground, a couple mid-conversation, and beyond the empty chairs—military trucks parked tightly against the glass façade of a commercial complex. No one paid them much attention. This image isn’t about extremes. It’s about the almost absurd coexistence of casual living and implied threat. It’s a subtle juxtaposition—the idle comfort of café life shadowed by the presence of camouflaged machinery. Compositionally, I used the umbrellas and columns to frame the shot and push 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 Different Passion…
If football is a religion — and for many it is — then what are its rituals, and who are its saints and martyrs? I came across this man during a rally, wrapped in his team’s colours, crowned with blue plastic strands like a DIY halo, cigarette pinched between fingers, gaze lost somewhere off-frame. He didn’t look triumphant, nor devastated. Just worn — by hope, by defeat, by something in between. This wasn’t theatre for the camera. He wasn’t performing. He was just still, in that half-breath between chants or cheers or curses. From a technical standpoint, I shot this with a shallow depth of field, using a fast lens…
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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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Inside the Palaces of Power – Bruxelles
The first thing that strikes me about this image is its deliberate sense of distance—not just physical, but psychological. We see a woman from behind, walking away toward a set of glass doors, her stride steady, her posture contained. There’s no attempt to catch her expression; her anonymity allows her to stand in for anyone navigating the quiet, often opaque corridors of authority. The architecture plays as much of a role here as the human subject. Vertical wooden slats flank either side, creating a symmetrical frame that channels our gaze straight toward the central doors and the clock above them. The space is clean, polished, almost acoustically still. The high-gloss…
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Inside The Palace of Power
I took this photograph inside a government building, in the afternoon, when the corridors echo in silence and the light is all reflected memory. The image focuses on a phone—old-style, maroon, hanging uselessly from its hook—framed by dark wood panels and infinite reflections. It’s a cliché of power, really: opulence, silence, and an obsolete instrument of control. The technical conditions weren’t ideal. I had no tripod, the light was dim and uneven, and I was working with a handheld digital camera not built for low-light finesse. ISO had to go up, and with it came the noise. But I decided not to clean it. Grain, in this case, felt appropriate.…
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Off Duty
From the back, their posture says almost as much as their uniforms. Four policemen walk away from the viewer, the word Polizia split and partially hidden by their movement. There’s no confrontation here, no heightened drama — instead, the image captures that moment of decompression, when the weight of vigilance begins to lift. The decision to shoot from behind removes the personal identifiers that a front-facing portrait would reveal. We are left with silhouettes of authority in retreat, the curve of a shoulder, the relaxed drop of an arm, the natural slouch of someone whose shift may be ending. In the background, the urban night hums along: signage, faint light,…
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The Stare of a T800
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Underground Security RA(T)P
I took this shot as these three officers from the RATP Sûreté unit passed me in a corridor of the Paris Metro. The framing was pure reflex: centre-weighted, low-angle, fast shutter. I didn’t have time to fine-tune the exposure—the lighting was flat and mixed, with harsh fluorescence above and murky shadows dragging behind. But I didn’t correct much in post either. This is a moment that benefits from its rawness. Their backs tell the whole story. The staggered stride, the swing of a baton, the compressed geometry of the underground corridor—they speak of tension, routine, and latent power. It’s not a confrontational image. The officers aren’t responding to a threat.…
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Hammer and Sickle
The image presents a straightforward urban fragment: an electrical cabinet bearing two layers of graffiti, one in red, one in blue. The red, unmistakably, forms the hammer and sickle symbol — sprayed quickly, with visible vertical striations from the cabinet’s ridged surface disrupting its edges. The blue tag below is broader, more gestural, perhaps made with a thicker nozzle and without concern for the political overtones of what sits above it. Compositionally, the vertical framing suits the subject, containing the entire cabinet and the immediate environment. The flanking pipes and textured wall create a symmetrical boundary, keeping the viewer’s focus on the graffiti itself. The alignment is square and deliberate,…
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Outside the Courthall
