My Personal Collection of Moments, Light, and Emotions

Who I am, is not important. If you’re here, perhaps you’ve come across some of my photographs. For this reason, I believe it’s more interesting to tell you why I take these photographs.

Reality changes constantly, in a moment, nothing in the universe remains the same. In our bodies, every second, thousands of cells die and are reborn.
Physics and mathematics prove that it is impossible to take two identical photographs. They can be similar, but never the same.

Even if matter were to remain unchanged, its representation could never be the same. Matter is perceived only because it reflects rays of light, which are always different from each other and offer us, at every instant, a different image. This applies even with fixed and constant light, but our primary source of light, the sun, from dawn to dusk, gives us an infinite variety of changes in the scene it illuminates, making each moment a unique and unrepeatable representation of the world.

For this reason, the photographer’s work is truly modest, minimal: they can only capture one of the infinite representations that an object shows us, one of the countless possible versions of a scene, one among the billions that make up the life of that scene.
And yet, the photographer’s passion is born precisely here: from the awareness that, although life goes on, constantly changing, they can stop a moment. They can leave behind an image that would otherwise have disappeared an instant later, vanishing forever.

Sometimes I think photography is madness: representing such a mutable reality seems like an impossible task. And yet, a photograph freezes at least one of these infinite images, one among an infinite number of versions of itself, in a print.

But freezing a moment is not enough: he have to select, from infinite possibilities, the perfect image…

Some consider photography a creative activity. Personally, I don’t believe that. If we can photograph something, it’s because it has already been created. A painter can create. A photographer can only testify, capturing an image that light has already made. Their task is to freeze that representation for a moment, or else it will be lost. Light creates the image, and the photographer merely bears witness or steals that moment.

Capturing the best combination of light at the right time is a great challenge. To do so, either you possess natural talent, or you go through a continuous process of learning, study, growth, work, mistakes, love, passion, dedication, and energy.

Sometimes I get discouraged because it feels like there’s nothing more to add to the work of the great masters. They’ve immortalized extraordinary scenes. But then I think: despite their skill, the universe didn’t offer them the same scenes that light and matter have revealed to me. And this encourages me to keep trying.

We’ve talked about physics shaping form, aesthetics, but a good image is not only about that: a good photograph shows the most aesthetically beautiful version (among the infinite representations of that scene), but in a precise moment when something exciting is happening.

In fact, the ultimate goal of photography is to tell a story, to convey an emotion, an event that, in just a few milliseconds, would have vanished.
Henri Cartier-Bresson said that a good photographer can take one great photo a year. In my case, my production is much lower, but I try.

To conclude, I would like to cite some great photographers and thinkers who, more eloquently than I ever could, have tackled these themes with great wisdom. A non-exhaustive list includes Henri Cartier-Bresson, Roland Barthes, Susan Sontag, Ansel Adams, John Berger, Alhazen (Ibn al-Haytham), Leonardo da Vinci, and Maurice Merleau-Ponty. These masters help us understand the relationship between light, events, time, and photography.