
It may seem strange, but when I go out with a camera, I don’t have the mindset of a hunter; I don’t go looking for photographic subjects along a set route or according to a predefined plan, already knowing what to look for. If anything, it is the photographs that seek me out in the form of scenes, shapes and potential compositions, ready to present themselves to my slightly cross-eyed gaze to be transformed into complete, meaningful images.
But not everything that comes my way is chosen: in this kaleidoscope of potential photographs that run, swim and leap around me, I am like a fisherman who, from his full net, patiently discards what is not useful or interesting, refusing to capture whatever passes before the lens that seems irrelevant to me, or later discarding what I do not deem worthy of being transformed into an effective image.
And I think this is the best way for me to ‘fish’—transforming those moments, those slightly absurd or just slightly out-of-the-ordinary situations that are usually lost, into a photograph.
Irrelevant details which, isolated from the context of time and space in which they were camouflaged, can acquire symbolic significance, irony or absurdity: the dignity of an effective photograph,
















