Author Archives: Marco Ristuccia

The Sacred and the Profane

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Image 01

With this article I’d like to let to you know something about Sicily (Italy), my land of birth. And I will do this by presenting one of my preferred projects, The Sacred and the Profane, shot in 2010 in Palermo, the capital city of this sunny island. Even though I was there only for a couple of weeks (I lived on the opposite side of Sicily) I still remember those times as a wonderful and colorful dream. There would be much to say about Sicily, its beautiful sea, its great landscapes and its friendly people, but I prefer to let images speak for themselves by showing part of this tale. Continue reading →

iPhone photography and Photojournalism

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Flohmarkt 01

Photo: Flohmarkt am Mauerpark – Berlin – IPhone-Hipstamatic photography
© Marco Ristuccia

In the last days there have been many debates about the destiny of Photojournalism and the new trend of mobile photography. I think there’s a bit of confusion about what’s happening, both on the editorial and on the photographer’s side, and I want to add my two cents. Continue reading →

Compro libri antichi (I buy old books)

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Compro libri antichi (I buy old books)

Photo: “Compro libri antichi (I buy old books) – Berlin – Neukölln
© Marco Ristuccia

I took this photo in Berlin-Neukölln during the “48 Stunden Neukölln” festival. A young representative of the iPhone-generation curiously chosen as the face of a campaign for antique books collection.

See the full reportage on Il Nuovo Berlinese

The missing Black

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The black shining

Photo: “The black door” 
© Marco Ristuccia

While progress and evolution are donating us amazing things, conversely, as time goes by, we’re gradually deprived of something else. A kind of loss which is so slow and subtle we can’t even get aware of.

One of my personal mournings is the death of Black, silently blown away by some sort of faded gray shade. It might have something to do with our unconscious fears, historically and psychologically associated with darkness. The fact is that nowadays the whole world seems to have the urge to be utterly lit up and crystal clear, like the icon of the heaven we all aspire to.

I really miss the mystery and inscrutability of the true Black that made us dream of what was behind, the deep Black of the night sky which allowed us to admire the glowing stars, the absolute Black of the venerable CRT TVs that rendered the movie experience so attractive, and the fat Black of the silver gelatine never reached by any digital print.