Q: Your project was born “suddenly” while watching your daughter. Can you describe that specific moment of inspiration? What was it about the light, the scene, or the feeling that told you a story was unfolding?
“Emotive Snapshots” is part of a much broader project I worked on from 2018 to 2025: Primo Amore (First Love). Within this larger theme, there are sub-themes dedicated to children, fishermen, swimmers, and water reflections — all expressed through staged photography.
“Emotive Snapshots” was born during the summer of 2023, when school is closed and the beach is mostly filled with kids. The beach becomes a place where lifelong friendships are forged, where days pass carefree, and memories are built that will shape one’s youth. I live in a town on the coast of Central Italy; for me, the sea is not just a natural element I grew up with — it’s also a feeling, just like summer is. Watching my daughter collect shells, whisper secrets to her friend while facing the sea, and spend most of her time in the water, I imagined them as sea creatures in their own fantastic world. In general, that’s how I see the reality around me — a blend of the real and the magical, a kind of augmented reality, where the extraordinary exists within everyday ordinariness. For me, the beach — like a city or a forest — is a starting point for staging fantastical narratives that reflect the transformation of a place through the people who inhabit it, as though it were an extension of ourselves. This sparks a reflection on time and a projection of my childhood memories onto my daughter and how they appear in my imagination. Most of the ordinary, everyday moments my daughter experiences become romanticized narratives of poetic visions. Everyone becomes part of a story with a plot open to the surreal.
Q: How did you develop your ability to see the extraordinary within these ordinary summer moments? Are there filmmakers or painters who influence your visual storytelling?
During my academic years (at the Academy of Fine Arts in Bologna), I had the opportunity to experiment with various techniques and develop a sense of planning and project-based work. This modus operandi has stayed with me — my photos rarely emerge as single shots; instead, they develop as a series and belong to a broader theme. My second degree allowed me to delve deeper into subjects related to literature, anthropology, and philosophy, and to specialize in Critic Art. At the time, I was working with site-specific sculptural installations. I gradually arrived at staged/fine-art/conceptual photography because I saw in the camera the potential to create a set where imaginary worlds, grounded in reality, could be brought to life.
I need people in my work — they are fantastical, colorful subjects that represent specific emotional and compositional situations. Above all, they create that attractive yet unsettling element capable of sparking questions in the viewer. Often, the people portrayed have their faces hidden because they represent all of us in a way — they carry emotional states and mental projections. We know very well that thoughts and emotions can’t be given sharp, defined outlines.
What influences my storytelling?
My visual language is the result of technical experimentation, years of research, academic study, and reading. I’m a curious person, so anything can attract my interest and become a source of inspiration. For example, I deeply admire the visionary style of the Italian filmmaker Paolo Sorrentino and the color palette and composition of Wes Anderson. I appreciate the books of Elena Ferrante and Alasdair Gray for their ability to depict a realism that is both raw and surreal. In photography, I love the work of Aida Muluneh, Paolo Ventura, and Erik Madigan Heck — their works are a blend of photography and painting, and I deeply appreciate the contaminations between genres. In Delfine Diallo, I’m drawn to the ongoing dialogue between self-portraiture and historical-cultural origins.
Q: You captured these moments with a smartphone, a tool of immediacy. How did this choice free you technically and creatively to focus on emotion and storytelling rather than technical complexity?
I simply did what I always do, even with my camera: I created a photographic series based on what my imagination was seeing in that moment. I added a touch of magical realism by choosing what to leave outside the frame. I included elements that are seemingly at odds with the subjects, in order to amplify an emotional narrative — at times alienating or nonsensical — to give shape to my poetic language. The only difference was that, at that moment, I only had my smartphone with me. But that didn’t stop me from carefully designing a series of “emotive snapshots”, which hold the same value as those taken with my Nikon D810.
Q: Winning Non-Professional Special Photographer of the Year is quite an honour. How does it encourage your future work?
It truly is a great honor, and I’m grateful to the jury for awarding me this recognition. I’ve been participating in the IPA Awards for years, consistently achieving good results, but it’s undeniable that putting myself out there — along with dedication, perseverance, and the ability to accept rejection — has been essential in getting to where I am today. Being recognized on a global level as a skilled and meaningful photographer means being seen by the entire photographic community. It means opening myself up to the gaze of enthusiasts and professionals in the field, and I hope this recognition paves the way for new collaborations with galleries, curators and brands.
Q: Your work proves powerful storytelling doesn’t require professional gear. What is your advice for photographers learning to see and capture these fleeting, emotional moments in their own lives?
Rather than giving advice, I can share what I do when I sense that there is potential in front of me to create an artistic image. I keep my focus on my visual/staged language and concentrate solely on how to transform an apparently ordinary moment into something extraordinary using whatever tool I have at hand. A smartphone is also a photographic tool — the one I used at the time was a Samsung A51, average quality, but it had a camera, and that was enough for me. For example, between 2024 and 2025, I created over twenty creative portraits that told the stories of underage boys who arrived in Italy alone, fleeing countries devastated by war and hunger, carrying broken pasts and facing the task of rebuilding new lives. Together, we transformed painful histories into a creative act — and we did it using nothing more than a smartphone, a tool typically used for instant communication.
I demonstrated that it’s absolutely possible to create a powerful, artistic, and emotional portrait using a smartphone. What truly matters is having something meaningful to say and the ability to transform that into an image.