When a group of photographers, guided by a master of rare humanity, embarks on a different journey — an inward one — the impact of the exhibition becomes personal and revelatory. Every project has its own precise and distinct identity: from conception to selection, from the choice of words as a complementary element to the final exhibition. It writes the grammar of a translation that turns silences into images.

I am very glad to have taken part as a prompter in this collective reflection, invited by Pino Giannini.
In these projects, photography does not merely stop time. It releases wonder.

Diving into the haunting, chaotic world of Dario Argento’s Inferno means entering a very peculiar corner of Italian horror cinema: dream logic, alchemy, saturated colours, impossible architecture, and music that seems to open a trapdoor beneath the floor.

The film, released in 1980, is the second chapter in Argento’s Three Mothers trilogy, following Suspiria. Where Suspiria is inseparable from Goblin’s legendary score, Inferno takes a different musical path: its soundtrack was composed and performed by Keith Emerson, the keyboard giant of Emerson, Lake & Palmer. The result is less rock-band ritual and more feverish symphonic nightmare — piano, organ, orchestral drama, progressive-rock tension, and that unmistakable Emerson sense of danger.

What if your everyday commute through Berlin did not simply end at the office, but at the absolute edge of time itself?

🌆 Citysink is a surreal Berlin cyber-noir trip in which a brilliant inventor leaves his retro-tech high-rise workspace on an azure bicycle, witnesses an impossible reality glitch at a currywurst kiosk, and is pulled into a paranoid underworld of surveillance, bureaucracy, wild animals, analog machines, and metaphysical decay.

Some stories arrive long before the music does. Goats, Tea and Trouble began as a slow-burning fable set on Africa’s western coast: a night of firelight, tea, goats, stolen cloth, village gossip and a shepherd who carries an old curse with more humour than fear.

This song is the echo of that story: a soundscape born from a nomad’s bonfire, a missing cloth, a restless herd, and the quiet resistance of people who still live by rhythms older than modern convenience. Before or after you listen, read the story that inspired it.

La Magia e la Storia dei Luoghi Siamo Noi was a live encounter between photography, theatre, music and dance: not simply a projection of images, but a collective performance in which every photograph became a story, every text became voice, every sound opened an emotional space, and every gesture transformed vision into stage presence.

The event took place on Saturday 25 January 2025 inside the performance space of SPAZIO MATTA in Pescara, curated and organised by Fotografia Pino Giannini. The project brought together a group of photographers and authors around a series of short visual narratives: individual photographic thoughts, yet conceived as part of a shared team effort.

It was one of those summer mornings when time seems almost suspended: a tranquil pocket of stillness tucked inside the city’s otherwise relentless pulse. The grass was already warm with sunlight, and the air carried the scent of cut leaves and waking soil. Beneath the shade of a tall plane tree, a small group had gathered on yoga mats in quiet attention to breath and body. At the centre stood the teacher, fluid and unhurried, her posture calm enough to make the whole park feel as if it had lowered its voice.