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Vive La France, The Oslo’s Way
Occasionally, photography rewards us with moments where irony, design, and national symbolism collide in a way that demands to be captured. Vive La France, The Oslo’s Way is one such moment. Here, three public toilets stand in perfect alignment, painted in the tricolour of the French flag—blue, white, and red—each proudly labelled with one of the national motto’s words: liberté, égalité, fraternité. From a compositional standpoint, the image works because of its symmetry and spacing. The photographer has placed the trio dead centre in the frame, allowing the architectural rhythm of the background—trees and modernist façades—to act as a neutral backdrop. The careful alignment ensures that each structure has breathing…
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Out Of Focus, Once More
Missed focus. Again. And no, it wasn’t intentional. This wasn’t a conceptual experiment, nor a nod to dreamlike abstraction. It was simply a technical failure, shot with a manual lens, rushed framing, and an optimistic assumption that I’d nailed the hyperfocal distance. I hadn’t. Still, I kept the frame. It’s a street in Munich, pigeons pecking at the ground, firemen walking down the centre. A homeless encampment crowds the left edge. None of it sharp. But despite that—or maybe because of it—the image speaks. Context persists. Silhouettes are enough. The story doesn’t vanish with the detail. Technically, the photo lacks precision: the aperture was too wide, depth of field too…
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Free Ride
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The Wild Bunch
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The Path To Freedom
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Running On The (Oslo’s) Docks
The moment lasted a fraction of a second. I was walking along the Oslo harbour, camera hanging loosely, eyes half on the ships and half on the geometry of the paving stones when he entered the frame — the runner. Perfect posture, right leg extended mid-stride, left arm balancing out the rhythm, and most crucially, isolated against the background clutter of docked ships and cranes. This image isn’t about the athleticism. It’s about pace, solitude, and counterpoint. The city rests behind him, still and orderly, while he pushes forward, cutting through the quiet with motion and intention. He’s small against the marine industrial backdrop, but all attention lands on him.…
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A Taxi Night Fleet At Oslo’s Central Station
I took this frame at a moment of pure symmetry and friction. The way taxi lines form outside Oslo Central Station at night—almost militaristic in their discipline, yet each vehicle pulsing with its own colour rhythm—felt like an urban ballet set to the low hum of idling engines and the soft scuff of rubber on wet cobblestones. Technically, night shots like this are unforgiving. The cold light from the LEDs clashes sharply with the warmth of the taillights and the overhead sodium vapour glow, which is why I resisted neutralising the colour balance too much. The visual tension between the icy blue reflected on the left and the bleeding red…
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A Haunted(?) House
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Urban Desolation
This photograph is part of a study I’ve been developing on marginal architecture—spaces neglected by urban development yet still clinging to presence. The building isn’t ruined in a picturesque way. It’s just exhausted. Scarred concrete, flaking plaster, and rusted grates stand as accidental testimonies of permanence beyond usefulness. I composed the frame to draw the viewer’s eye along the length of the structure, ending with the blurred outlines of new buildings in the background. The juxtaposition isn’t subtle—it wasn’t meant to be. These walls hold layers of past usage, from the makeshift repairs to the graffiti tags now fading like old memories. Technically, the photo rides a fine line between…
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Windows
The photograph isolates a stark interior: two narrow barred windows flanking a central wall, and above them, a single rectangular window letting in pale light. Geometry dominates—verticals and horizontals align, while the bars break symmetry with their irregular grid. The result is a study in confinement and release, the eye inevitably drawn upward toward the light source. Composition is strict, almost architectural. The side windows anchor the lower frame, their darkness reinforcing the weight of the walls. The brighter upper window, positioned centrally, becomes both focal point and escape. Depth is minimal; the flatness of the surfaces intensifies the sensation of enclosure. Technically, the black and white treatment enhances austerity.…
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Via Collina, Empty, From Above
The perspective is vertical, as if leaning out and looking straight down. Cars line both sides of the narrow street, parked in strict succession, their roofs forming a patchwork of tones. The pavement and façades edge the scene, flattening into geometry under the camera’s angle. At the centre, however, the street itself is bare—an unexpected strip of emptiness in a crowded frame. Composition relies on symmetry and repetition. The rhythm of vehicles, rectangles of windows, and parallel lines of pavement create a structured grid. The lamppost, suspended on its wire, interrupts this order with a curve, offering a counterpoint to the rectilinear logic. Two pedestrians near the corner introduce scale,…
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A Sailors’ Warehouse
I took this photograph inside a boathouse, looking down into a storage system built from large industrial pipes. What struck me immediately was the rhythm of repetition: the orange-red circles forming a grid, each cradling a piece of fabric, rope, or gear. Practicality drove the design, yet visually it became something else—an ordered chaos, a taxonomy of a sailor’s life. The top-down perspective was deliberate. Shooting directly overhead flattened the objects into patterns, stripping away depth in favour of geometry. It is a photograph about compartments and how objects settle into them. The symmetry of the circles is slightly broken by the irregular bulk of the bags and fabrics, which…
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The Lost Hotel
I photographed this derelict façade in an Italian town on a walk that started with no intention and ended with this frame. “Albergo Aterno,” barely legible beneath a coat of turquoise decay, is what’s left of a forgotten hotel. I didn’t need to know its history to feel the abandonment radiating from every peeled layer of plaster. The frame is pulled tight—the architecture becomes a subject in itself, the wires and conduit lines accidentally composing a crude symmetry that holds the chaos together. This isn’t a pretty picture, and that’s the point. The scene punishes clean aesthetics. Harsh light from the afternoon sun exacerbates the texture—flaking walls, rusted metal, and…
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Fishing Shelter Under The Bridge
Photographs like this one always pull me in—not for their glamour, but for their quiet, unvarnished truth. This image, titled Fishing Shelter Under a Bridge, captures a space that seems to exist on the fringes: part makeshift workspace, part refuge, part survival mechanism. The fishing net suspended in the frame is not the tool of a hobbyist, but a means to secure food, a reminder of the precariousness of life for some. From a compositional perspective, the photograph is anchored by a strong sense of depth. The viewer’s eye is naturally drawn from the shaded, cluttered foreground toward the brighter, open water and the moored boats in the distance. The…
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Lost Cellos
There’s something unsettling about musical instruments left alone. Cellos, in particular, carry a visual weight even when silent — the curve of the body, the arch of the bridge, the scroll’s delicate twist. In this scene, set against the pale facade of an Italian street, they lie scattered, leaning awkwardly against bright red plastic chairs, as though abandoned mid-performance. I was drawn to the tension between elegance and neglect. The geometry of the composition came naturally — the red chairs punctuating the frame, the arc of the white wall detail acting almost like a silent proscenium arch. The absence of people intensifies the stillness, making the instruments feel orphaned. From…
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Waiting For The Bus On Las Ramblas
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Waiting To Board At Santa Margherita Ligure
Crowds have their own choreography. This moment, taken on the waterfront of Santa Margherita Ligure, is less about any single subject and more about the small, unspoken narratives that weave together in a public space. Nobody is looking at the same thing, yet they are all connected by the same purpose — waiting for the boat. From a compositional standpoint, I deliberately let the frame fill with people, favouring density over isolation. The image works because of its layers: the foreground with its sharply focused details, the mid-ground of partially obscured figures, and the soft backdrop of the harbour and town. Each layer adds depth without distracting from the central…
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Bless or Curse?
I took this photograph standing behind the statue, looking out over the marina. The choice of viewpoint was deliberate—front-facing statues are expected, almost ceremonial; from behind, they become more ambiguous. Without the expression to guide us, the outstretched arms could be offering a blessing to the yachts in the bay, or perhaps condemning their excess. The composition is simple but layered. The statue dominates the left third of the frame, creating a strong vertical anchor, while the open space of the sea and sky fills the rest. The boats, scattered across the water, offer points of visual interest without competing for attention. The horizon is placed high enough to balance…
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Passage Lost
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Red Lock At Genova’s Dock Arsenal
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Call On The Docks
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Friends
There is a certain quiet joy in photographs that capture the ease and warmth of companionship. Friends presents just such a moment — a woman and her dog sharing a gentle exchange on a patch of summer grass. No theatrics, no posed glamour; just a fleeting instance of mutual attention and affection. The composition makes effective use of depth and framing. The low camera angle places the viewer almost at the dog’s eye level, encouraging an empathetic connection with the animal. The human subject is positioned slightly off-centre, balancing the frame against the mass of greenery to the left. This not only prevents the image from feeling static but also…
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Staring At The Infinite (While Waiting For The Fishes)
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Boat Maintenance At Genova’s Porto Antico
The Porto Antico in Genoa has a way of blending the romantic with the mundane. Tourists tend to focus on the gleaming yachts, the glint of sunlight on the water, the distant hum of maritime history. I found myself drawn to something less glamorous but far more telling—a simple act of maintenance on a sailboat, captured mid-task. From my vantage point, the composition presented itself naturally. The man in the red shirt bends over the stern, his white hair almost glowing under the midday sun. In the foreground, another man, back turned to us, anchors the scene and adds depth. The large ship’s wheel to the right and the tangle…
