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A comfortable chair
Well … maybe.
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Is the next Kano Jigoro already on the mat?
Somewhere in the world, maybe the next Kano Jigoro is just born. The frame is anchored by the portrait of Kano Jigoro, fixed above a rack of wooden weapons and a block wall of glass bricks. Everything above the tatami is controlled: symmetry, rhythm, grid. But the eye falls to the disorder below—the untied belts sprawled across the floor, soft, irregular, human. I kept the shot wide to preserve the negative space. The belts are deliberately small in the frame. Their scale reflects their role: potential, not yet formed. They interrupt the formality of the upper half, resisting the architecture with an echo of movement. They’re not discarded. They’ve been used. Light…
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Under the Bridge
Here I am again with a video…
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Fishermen in Rome, Again
There’s no better way to enjoy a sunny day in Rome. The photograph opens with three figures at the river’s edge, their backs turned to the viewer, their attention fixed on the slow, opaque flow of the Tiber. The morning light is soft but clear, stretching shadows across the worn concrete embankment. Fishing rods angle out over the water, each line vanishing into the muted surface where the river holds its secrets. The composition is deliberate in its restraint. By placing the subjects with their faces hidden, the image shifts focus from identity to posture. Each fisherman holds a distinct physical rhythm: the man in the green jacket standing upright, central…
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The Rise of the Mutant Spiders?
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The Ipad Shooter. Who needs a Nikon D4 anymore?
The photograph captures an all-too-familiar scene in today’s public spaces: a traveller, squatting low on cobblestones, pink suitcase upright beside her, tablet in hand, angling for the perfect shot. The background is busy with pedestrians, idling vehicles, and the ordered chaos of an urban square—but the focal point is the incongruity of the act itself. Not a DSLR slung over the shoulder. Not even a compact mirrorless. Instead, a bright orange tablet becomes the instrument of choice. CompositionThe image benefits from deliberate framing. The subject sits slightly off-centre to the left, allowing the surrounding space to breathe. This choice draws the eye first to her and the bold block of…
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A Mysterious Bag
Big enough to contains a whole life…
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A Fisherman in Rome
There is a quiet irony in standing on the banks of the Tiber, camera in hand, and seeing this scene unfold — a solitary fisherman, rod extended, gazing into the slow, opaque water. Just a few metres above, Rome hums and roars: scooters weave through traffic, tourists cluster at monuments, and shopkeepers call out in markets. Down here, however, time seems to flow at the river’s pace — unhurried, stubbornly indifferent to the world above. From a compositional standpoint, the photograph makes good use of negative space. The wide expanse of muted, silty water forms a calm, almost monotone backdrop that lets the figure of the fisherman stand out without…
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Next in line, please!
A disciplined and contemplative street photography shot captured with documentary precision. A quiet urban scene unfolds on a cobblestone street, framed by soft, overcast light. In the foreground, a stone bollard supports a small display of trinkets and souvenirs, sharply focused against the subdued blur of pedestrians and parked scooters. The muted palette and shallow depth of field evoke a cinematic stillness, contrasting motion and stasis, commerce and transience—an observation of everyday life
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The Last Icecream?
I was drawn to the quiet anticipation layered between three figures, each framed by glass, glare, and gesture. The woman in the foreground, partially silhouetted in a hoodie, acts as the emotional anchor — patient, uncertain, her posture leaning subtly forward. She could be next, or just waiting. The man to her right, elderly, suited, stoic, exists in quiet counterpoint. And behind the counter, blurred yet bright, the server becomes an abstract suggestion of service or denial. It’s the moment before transaction — a gesture paused in the theatre of everyday life. Technically, the image is soft, and I’m fine with that. Focus falls more on atmosphere than detail. Depth…
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Italy, Street-Photography and the Law
Update – 2 On July 2014 the Polizia Municipale of Rome seized a street-photographer ‘s camera, but the Court bashed the seizure. Update – 1 Here is an A4 leaflet useful to stand your ground if your street-photography work is questioned by somebody else. Introduction* As there are few texts in English dealing with (street) photography and Italian laws, I’ve decided to put my lawyer‘s hat and sketch some toughts on the two main topics involving the Street-Photography: shooting candid and publishing them online. To cut a long story short, Italian law follows a similar approach to other Western jurisdictions and – in particular – of Articles 8 and 10…
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Portrait of a young scholar
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Portrait of a Wrestler
There’s a particular weight to portraits of athletes, especially those whose craft is as primal and disciplined as wrestling. When I took this photograph, I wanted to strip away the spectacle of the sport—no mats, no crowds, no action—and focus instead on the man behind the contest. The framing is deliberately close, the upper torso and head taking dominance in the composition. The subject’s direct gaze into the lens is neither aggressive nor performative; it’s a quiet, steady presence. The choice of black and white enhances this honesty, removing any distraction of colour and forcing the viewer to engage with form, texture, and light. In the background, out of focus,…
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Portrait of a Master luthier
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Portrait of a politician – 1
There’s a certain pleasure in photographing with the Leica M9—a camera that rewards precision and patience rather than machine-gun bursts. This portrait was made in a crowded hall, the politician seated among an audience whose attention was turned toward the stage. The light was far from forgiving, a mix of weak ambient and uneven spot sources, but the M9’s sensor responded with a tonal richness that digital cameras often lose in harsh conditions. I chose to work wide open, which gave me the shallow depth of field needed to isolate his face from the visual chaos around him. The crowd dissolves into a swirl of shapes and tonal smudges, leaving…
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Secret Beyond the Door
Who knows what they’re talking about?
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Nico Cilli Band Live@Città Sant’Angelo
Another intrusion into the videomakers’ world. Need to keep trying…
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Too Young to Spend Time Watching the Ducks in the Pond
… wait for the retirement, at least!
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Tired or Fascinated?
Not so easy to tell… The question writes itself when you look at the scene. In the centre of the frame, a man stands before a long, textured painting. His arms are crossed, his head tilted slightly forward—posture locked in contemplation. The work before him, with its earthy tones and abstracted form, seems to have pulled him entirely into its orbit. He doesn’t glance away. In the foreground, two seated figures tell a different story. On the left, a woman in a red hoodie sits with a jacket draped across her lap, holding a booklet. Her gaze drifts outward, past the viewer, her expression suggesting the mental pause that comes after…
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The Way Out
There is something about an open window that always draws me in—not for what lies beyond, but for the threshold it represents. This frame was taken from inside a dimly lit room, the glass swung outward, offering a partial view of a Parisian-style zinc roof, punctuated by a small chimney vent. The decision to work in black and white came naturally; the textures and tonal contrasts were far more compelling than any colour the scene might have offered. The geometry of the roof panels and the window frame gave me strong lines to play with, and the skewed perspective from shooting slightly off-centre added a subtle tension to the composition.…
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Empty Chairs in the Tuileries
Paris in the rain changes its pace. The air thickens, the sounds dampen, and spaces usually alive with chatter take on a hushed, suspended quality. Here, in the Jardin des Tuileries, the iconic green metal chairs gather loosely at the edge of the fountain. They are arranged without intention—angled differently, backs turned, no symmetry to suggest a shared moment. It’s as if the conversation ended abruptly and the participants slipped away, leaving only their seats to remember the posture of their presence. The wet ground darkens the green paint, the armrests glisten with a thin film of water, and the fountain continues its arc in the background, indifferent. The frame…
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Same Space, Different Worlds
Lost in their own business.
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Much Too Short a Ladder
Paris has a way of presenting juxtapositions that are almost too perfectly absurd to be staged. Here, in the grand setting of Place de la Concorde, fountains spray elegantly into the autumn air, the French flag waves over the distant dome of the Grand Palais—and in the foreground, an oddly truncated ladder leans against a massive plinth, clearly destined to reach nowhere. When I framed the shot, I was immediately drawn to the humour of scale. The ornate column, richly decorated in green and gold, stands in confident verticality, while the ladder—plain, utilitarian, and utterly inadequate—sits at a hopeless angle. It’s a visual joke, but one the city offered up…
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The Three Musketeers
… Hey, where the hell is d’Artagnan?
