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Just a soccer match…
This is not an upcoming urban riot. Just a soccer match…
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A Master Luthier in his lab…
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An interesting reading
To seat or no to seat?
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Raus
I took this photograph on a quiet street where the stillness of the scene clashed violently with the venom of the message sprayed across the wall. The phrase, written in crude, hurried strokes, is not a remnant from some distant, darker chapter of history but a fresh reminder that intolerance continues to thrive. The frame is stripped of distraction: a textured wall, a single small window with broken panes, and the shadow of a streetlamp reaching across the surface. The composition leans heavily on the tension between emptiness and statement. Placing the graffiti off-centre allows the cracked window to act as a counterweight, both visually and metaphorically—two forms of damage,…
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The Icecream is ready to be served
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A chat on a lake shore
Countless photos like that have been shot. But enjoying a good moment together always deserves to be recorded
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Fashionable’s shots
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Rest on the lake
enjoying some fruit.
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Waiting for the goal
Why can’t I enjoy my soccer team’s match instead of wasting my time here? Because my wife loves music…
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Segway Chase in Villa Borghese
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Shade of Berlin
… Jeff, Berlin.
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Meeting on the board
Meeting on the board, waiting for the next passenger to arrive.
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Still Together
Still together, like the very first day. I saw them before they saw me — leaning slightly towards each other, their posture neither rigid nor slouched, but comfortably suspended in the shared gravity of the table between them. The wine glasses, half-filled with rosé, spoke of time already spent; the unopened bottle on the side suggested more still to come. From a compositional standpoint, I worked with the geometry of the setting — the square table, the vertical lines of the wall, and the quiet interruption of the stone column — to anchor the frame. The couple sit on opposite sides, yet the line of sight between them is unbroken,…
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The missing guest
Everything is ready to start the party, but a missing place suggest that they still have to wait…
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Foto-Grafo admitted to the Persol Reflex Edition contest
This photo has been accepted for the Persol Reflex Edition contest. I usually don’t like to participate in this kind of initiatives, but the appeal of the possibility to win a Leica M-E was too compelling!
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Late-afternoon’s snack
…who knows what will be served for dinner?
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An Old-Style ATM
This frame came together in the blink of an eye — or perhaps more accurately, in the blur of one. No carefully plotted composition, no tripod, no second chance. Just a brief exchange at a café counter: a plate extended, a hand offering payment, the warmth of human transaction before contactless cards made it all vanish into invisible transfers. The motion blur here is both the flaw and the essence. Technically speaking, the shutter speed was far too slow for handheld shooting in this kind of lighting, resulting in softness across the entire image. If sharpness were the sole measure of photographic merit, this would be an immediate reject. But…
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Who is the mannequin?
… not sure.
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So what?
There is a certain energy in candid street photography that cannot be replicated in a controlled setting, and So What?captures it in full stride. This frame offers a slice of urban life in the late afternoon, when the sun hangs low and the streets teem with a mix of idle chatter, cigarette breaks, and casual posturing. The photograph hinges on the central figure—a tall man in sunglasses, cigarette poised mid-gesture—whose slight tilt of the head and half-smirk seem to issue the titular challenge. To his left, another man, hand to face and gaze averted, projects an entirely different mood: contemplative, perhaps guarded. The third figure, seen only from behind, forms…
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A young Iron Maiden fan
He might never have seen them, but who cares? Metal is immortal…
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A stupid quarrell
This photo raised strong criticism in the mainstream media. A soldier deployed in an operational theater (war, in other words) wears a balaclava with the image of his all-day companion: the death. Apart the fact that the image is a skull and not the Death (whose iconography is fairly more articulated and complex) the question is: why should this photo matters? All the combatants, of all times, of all places in the world know best the value of inducing fear into the enemies’ minds by way of “icons” (armors, masks) and sounds (shouts, drums.) And, in parallel, every soldier must find his own way to handle the unbearable fear of…
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High-Tech Elder Care Tool
When I first saw this image, the irony of the title struck me. High-Tech Elder Care Tool—and yet, before us is a stark black-and-white photograph of a row of battered, utilitarian wheelchairs, one with “Geriatria” scrawled across its back. This is not the glossy, high-tech medical equipment we often see in promotional brochures, but the reality many encounter in underfunded wards and overstretched hospitals. From a compositional standpoint, the image benefits from its simplicity. The wheelchairs are positioned in a way that leads the viewer’s eye naturally from left to right. The empty, flat wall behind them offers no distraction, instead amplifying the focus on the subject matter. The angle,…
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A true friend
They enjoy their time together, as true friends ever should… No leash. No command. Just a gesture—and absolute trust. In this intimate frame, the lens captures a silent language spoken only between companions of a certain kind. The man’s hand rises gently, fingers curled, holding nothing yet holding everything that matters: attention, affection, history. The dog, massive and solemn, gazes upward with reverence—not out of obedience, but because it wants to. This is not a portrait of a pet and its owner. It is a document of friendship forged over countless days walked together, of shared silences and mutual understanding. The bond, invisible to the eye yet utterly present, transcends words. Loyalty…
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Don’t Forget!
It’s the moment between words that makes this picture. You can almost hear the shop owner’s voice, half command, half reminder, as the young man in the doorway glances back. The raised hand, the turned head, the slight lean forward — everything about his body language says, “You’ve got this, but don’t mess it up.” The frame itself is tight, almost conspiratorial. We’re standing just behind another figure — smart jacket, cigarette in hand — as if we’ve stumbled into a private exchange. That foreground figure acts as an anchor and a barrier at the same time: we’re part of the scene, yet removed from it, observing through a filter…
