No colours anymore, I want them turn black (Rolling Stones) The struggle of light, the sense of darkness, the intimate and still alien sensation of watching a city which is beatiful and harsh. You can say "I love this city". And you can say "I hate this city". No wonder in that: they are both valid and understandable positions, and both play their own role in sensing and living the place. Blades of light, the early morning has a very special taste, old street that suddenly open to squares to take breath before plunging again into the intricate labyrinths of the ancient city. Turning darkness into light. And then into darkness again. Passionate dance that wipes out colours and leave the white or the black to define the boundaries and rules of this new realm The other city. The one we not always are aware of.
These photographs have been taken in different periods of time and collected together on this page to "paint" a certain vision of the city. I have always been intolerant and critical of this city, but I must admit that when walking in the morning between the narrow rows of the downtown, or standing still in the squares that suddenly appear to your eyes as a rescue after navigating in an unknown sea, then I must admit that there is an inner, harsh beauty that still amazes me.