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The Solitude of Power
In this staged tableau, a single white king stands isolated at the centre of a chessboard, surrounded by a dense perimeter of pawns, bishops, rooks, and knights—black and white alike. The visual symmetry is precise, the tension deliberate. It is a composition that speaks of power, but also of its limits. The king is both the most important and the weakest piece on the board. Its capture ends the game, yet it is immobile without protection. The title, The King’s Solitude, plays on this paradox: the sovereign stands alone, sovereign yet vulnerable, elevated yet exposed. In the context of international relations, this image evokes the precarious nature of leadership on the…
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Pop Art Meets Industrial Hamburg
I shot this industrial skyline in Hamburg, initially as a stark monochrome—smoke billowing against a winter sun, the city bathed in a haze of latent threat. But the image called for more. So I bent it, digitally, into a quartet: one frame fractured into four, each processed through a brutalist lens of colour theory—red, green, cyan, monochrome. A nod to Warhol, sure. But also to those old weather warnings on analogue TVs, when the signal bent reality and your retina paid the price. Technically, the base image holds. The stack of buildings anchors the composition in rigid geometry—angular, postmodern, the kind of skyline that doesn’t beg for admiration but demands…
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Das Feuerwehr
Stark light and harsh shadow are unforgiving companions. I leaned into both for this frame, shooting handheld at night on cobblestone soaked in sodium glow. The word FEUERWEHR — fire brigade — is scrawled vertically in bold white across the pavement, its urgency subdued by silence and stone. I chose to skew the perspective intentionally, aligning the top-right vanishing point with the guardrail and letting the painted letters lead the eye back into the void. There’s no subject in the conventional sense — no figure, no action. Just trace elements of human systems and warnings against an absence. Technically, this is an image pulled from constraint. Low light meant pushing…
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Light Dance in Hamburg
An empty intersection at night becomes a stage for light. Red traffic signals glow above the road, mirrored by the white and blue beams of passing cars, while a string of streetlamps recedes into the distance like a choreographed sequence. The city itself recedes into shadow, glass and steel catching fragments of illumination, leaving the lights to carry the rhythm. Composition emphasises depth and geometry. Lane markings point forward, guiding the viewer’s eye toward the vanishing point, where lamps shrink in scale but persist in tempo. The blurred car on the left introduces motion, its headlights flaring bright, while static lights above keep the frame balanced. The sign on the…
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We Are All Made of Stars
The street is slick with rain, fenced for works in progress, cluttered with signs and barriers. Yet above it all, the stars have returned — bright, geometric, electric — heralding the slow, luminous arrival of Christmas in Brussels. A lone figure walks toward the camera, wrapped in a scarf and his own thoughts. He is grounded, ordinary, human. But above him, a constellation of neon dreams stretches deep into the vanishing point, inviting passersby to look up, to believe, even if just for a moment. This photograph captures the paradox of the urban winter: cold, messy, fractured — and yet luminous with potential. The construction fences are still up, the…
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Caparezza – Live@Palamaggetti Roseto degli Abruzzi
Live performance photography is unforgiving. Light shifts without warning, the subjects never stand still, and meaning happens between beats. Here, I caught the performer mid-gesture — head bowed, arms bent — a pose that felt choreographed yet spontaneous, devotion laced with exhaustion. I made this photograph during a Caparezza concert, deep in that controlled chaos where theatre and music collide. The performer’s costume, a surreal mix of symbols and satire, caught the stage light like an icon in distortion — a living metaphor for the artist’s social commentary. I wanted to preserve that tension: sacred imagery reframed as pop spectacle. The expression mattered less than the posture. That bend forward,…
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Menu Meditation
There’s a particular silence in cafés just before ordering. That moment when the cold air from outside still clings to your coat, and all attention narrows to laminated options and the quiet negotiations of hunger. This was taken on a grey afternoon in Brussels. A couple sits across from each other, each reading their own menu as if studying for an exam. No phones. No talking. Just decisions to be made: sweet or savoury, warm or cold, this or that. It’s a familiar ritual, yet rarely observed this closely. What drew me in wasn’t the scene’s drama—there was none—but its quietness. The soft concentration on their faces, the gentle lean…
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Caparezza – Live@Palamaggetti Roseto degli Abruzzi
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The Bystander
Standing in the Grand-Place at night, I waited for something—anything—to break the near-perfect symmetry. Then he arrived. The man didn’t pose. He just paused in the middle of the cobbles, framed squarely between the elegant baroque façades and the soft reflection of lamplight on wet stone. His silhouette gave scale and narrative to the grandeur behind him. Alone but not lonely, motionless yet in transit—he became the photograph’s axis. I shot handheld at high ISO. Noise was a concern, but the Nikon sensor held up. I retained the grain because it added texture to the shadows without crushing the blacks. Technically, this is a symmetrical composition, but it’s also layered:…
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Fujifilm XF 100-400: a quick test
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A Couple of Windows
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Max Casacci – Live@Circolo Aternino, Pescara
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Alone
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Halt!
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Not A Rorschach Inkblot
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Servicing a Sig Sauer P226
This frame came together as a study of routine and tactility rather than drama. The hands, well-worn and pragmatic, are in mid-action—focused, unposed, doing what they’ve likely done a hundred times before. It’s not a glamour shot of a weapon. It’s a photograph of labour, care, and the quiet diligence of someone who knows their way around a mechanical system. The Sig Sauer P226, known for its precision and reliability, has always struck me as more tool than totem. That sense informed how I chose to shoot this: close, compressed, honest. I avoided depth-of-field tricks or shallow focus. The visual language here is functional, echoing the subject matter. The background…
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A Shooter
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Missed Airplane
I made this photograph on a foggy morning at the airport, when the air was so thick with mist that the horizon vanished entirely. The two stair trucks stood idle, angled towards each other as if in conversation, yet the absence of the plane they were meant to serve transformed the scene into something more ambiguous. What should have been a moment of transit became one of suspension. The composition leans heavily on geometry. The crosswalk in the foreground pulls the viewer in, its bold stripes leading the eye towards the vehicles in the middle distance. Beyond them, the frame dissolves into white haze, stripping the background of any detail.…
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Is Batman Coming To Town?
There are moments in photography when nature conspires to hand you a frame so surreal, you almost question its authenticity. This image is one of those moments — a shaft of blazing light erupting from the horizon, punching through the heavy grey sky like a celestial spotlight. The comic-book reference in the title is apt; it’s as if Gotham’s bat-signal has been reimagined over a Mediterranean fishing port. From a compositional standpoint, the photograph benefits from the strong vertical energy of the light beam, cutting cleanly through the otherwise horizontal layout of boats, masts, and buildings. The balance between the darkened marina in the foreground and the dramatic burst of…
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Sega Codemaster
There’s a certain kind of nostalgia that hums in the air around old arcade machines — the whirr of the fans, the dull thump of buttons, the phosphor glow of a screen just a little too close for comfort. This photograph leans into that, not by showing the player, but by staring straight down the throat of the beast itself. The composition is blunt and unapologetic: the steering wheel dead-centre, its SEGA logo and stylised crest almost daring you to sit down and prove yourself. Behind it, the game’s leaderboard spills out in garish blues, whites, and yellows, with Spa Francorchamps’ familiar curves just visible on the left. There’s a…
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The Quiet Riot
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Renovating Milan
Milan, November 2017. A construction site—not the kind that demands attention, but the quiet kind that hides behind fabric and scaffolding. I took this photo walking past it for the third or fourth time. What stopped me wasn’t the building itself, but its ghost. Behind the mesh screen, the silhouette of the old façade still lingered, like a memory bleeding through fabric. Chimneys, outlines, the suggestion of windows. The city behind the curtain. At the bottom, the standard construction notice: printed bureaucracy stapled to metal, a reminder that change is always sanctioned, scheduled, structured. But the rest of the image resists clarity. Straight lines waver, verticals drift. Even the fence…
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The Silent Ceremony
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Los Niños y El Tocaor
The guitarist was Pedro Navarro, and he played with the kind of intimate conviction that can silence a room without demanding it. I took the shot during a flamenco recital in a modest Spanish cultural venue, one of those places where chairs creak and plaster flakes off the walls, but the soul is palpable. What caught me wasn’t just the precision of his fingers on the strings, or the deliberate slowness of the opening compás—it was the quiet appearance of the two boys at the back. Dressed like miniature adults, suspended in a corridor of sound and formality, unsure whether to stay or move on. One places a hand on…
