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Three Sprouts
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Game Over
Photographs like Game Over remind me that sometimes the most direct visual statements are also the most loaded. Here, a simple, hastily spray-painted message on a makeshift surface is transformed into something more imposing by lens choice and framing. Shot on a Nikon F3 with a Nikkor 16mm fisheye, the image carries the unmistakable spatial distortion of that ultra-wide glass. The curvature of the edges pushes the wall and banner into a bowed shape, making the words bulge towards the viewer. It’s a subtle but effective way of amplifying the sense of confrontation—as though the message is leaning into us, impossible to ignore. Technically, the black-and-white treatment strips away distraction…
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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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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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So Long, and Thank You for the Fish
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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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Soldering
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Black Cat
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Boats
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Toxic Waste in Open Air
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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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Fixing the ship
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Technological Memento
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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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A Street-Skater on the Waterfront
I came across him by the harbour on a day when the wind carried the smell of salt and diesel from the moored fishing boats. He wasn’t performing for an audience—just skating alone, immersed in his own rhythm. His movements were sharp but fluid, somewhere between dance and martial art. I wanted to capture that moment when the body leans into balance, teetering on the edge of a fall but never crossing it. The setting presented an immediate visual contrast: the fluidity of his posture against the static, almost heavy backdrop of the docked ships. I framed him to the left, letting the background breathe, so that the masts, ropes,…
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Open Interior
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Splinter
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Drying Clothes
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The Last Journey Of An Hero of Italian Motoring
Behold, the Fiat 500. Not the modern one that’s all airbags and Bluetooth and makes you feel like a fashion blogger. No, this is the real thing. The original. The glorious, underpowered, unapologetically tinny Italian shoebox. And look at it now—strapped to the back of a truck like a pensioner wheeled out of the bingo hall for the last time. Rusted. Flat-tyred. Beaten. Magnificent. I spotted it being hauled away through a southern Italian town, and frankly, I nearly wept. This was once the car that got a nation moving. The people’s Ferrari. The automotive embodiment of an espresso shot. And now? A hunk of oxidised metal destined for the…
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Lava Nails
The first thing that struck me when I looked at this photograph was the title — Lava Nails. It’s an evocative phrase, one that instantly conjures visions of volcanic rock cooling into jagged forms. In reality, of course, what we’re looking at is far more prosaic: rows of rusty rivets or bolts on a weathered surface. Yet, the camera has transformed the mundane into the dramatic. The composition is built on strong linear perspective. The rivets march away from the viewer, converging toward a vanishing point that lies just outside the frame’s blurred horizon. This forced depth, amplified by a shallow depth of field, isolates the tactile detail of the…
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A Skater
Framing the whole statue would have made this photo better. The mistake was caused by the necessity to shoot fast, the lens’ field of view and the distance between the subject and the focal plane.
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A Droplet
Sometimes the most unassuming subjects hold the greatest visual intrigue. A Droplet invites us to pause before a corroded pipe, its mouth fringed with moss and decay, and notice the minute beads of water suspended in time. The scene is humble, even neglected, yet it carries a quiet dignity — a testament to the slow, unrelenting processes of nature reclaiming the man-made. From a compositional standpoint, the photographer has made the astute decision to centre the pipe, drawing the eye directly to the mossy rim and the droplets. The shallow depth of field isolates the subject from the textured wall behind it, giving the image a pleasing three-dimensionality. The fine…
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An Essay on Composition
This photograph began with geometry, but it ended up being about contradiction. Sand, marble, sea—each a distinct texture, each performing under different rules. It’s not a landscape and it’s not abstract, but it borrows from both. The diagonal lines, the flattened depth, the conflict between order and erosion—all deliberate, but not staged. I rotated the frame on purpose. The eye expects a horizon, some gravitational anchor, but here that’s denied. The marble slabs—cold, precise, quarried and arranged—seem to float or fall, depending on how you orient yourself. The band of sand running diagonally across the frame interrupts their perfection with a tactile, natural disorder: dunes formed by wind, not by…
