Professionalism: a matter of size

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I find that many rules in Italy (including some traffic laws) are either ignored or can be overruled as the need arises. One great example of this are the regulations regarding photography in Sforza Castle in Milan.

The sign at the entrance showed a camera in a red circle, crossed with a red line. Suspecting that in this case “no” does not necessarily mean “no”, I asked a lady at the ticket office to confirm, and she said that photography without a flash is allowed. Then she saw my camera (I had a Canon 1D X with a 24-105mm f/4 lens, which happened to be extended to its longest focal length) and said that I cannot use it, because it was “professional.” As I was thinking about what to say, I turned the zoom to 24 mm, which made the lens shorter by about 50%. Seeing this, the lady said, pointing at the camera, “This is Ok. You can use that.”

So, I found that my level of professionalism can be instantly adjusted (at least in the range of 24 to 105 mm.)

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Colours of Genova

More photos here: https://flic.kr/s/aHskbNyVyE

Genova often does not make the list of top destinations in Italy. A friend of mine recently joked that he would write a blog post entitled “Top Ten Things To Do In Genova,” which would list only three items. Genova definitely has fascinating history (it was the dominant naval power at one point, it is the birthplace of Columbus, etc.), but there are no high-profile tourist attractions, large museums or famous frescoes that many other Italian cities have in abundance. However, after spending four full days here, I start to notice the neat features of Genova that make it unique.

I think Genova’s uniqueness is in its architecture. Specifically, it is in the contrast of the old town, with it’s maze of narrow alleys (“corrugi”), and the modern structures around the waterfront. There is also a noticeable contrast between the dark, dirty, graffiti-covered old town and the bright, sunny, romantic suburb of Boccadasse, which looks very similar to the nearby five villages known as Cinque Terre that are famous for their unique charm.

The colours of Genova’s old buildings are also unique. They are of various shades of red and orange. I heard that this particular shade of red is called “Genova rosso,” just like the typical orange colour of Siena’s buildings is known simply as “siena” to the artists.

More photos here: https://flic.kr/s/aHskbNyVyE

First impressions of Genova: night and day

More photos here: https://flic.kr/s/aHskbNyVyE

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I got a little bit lost in the narrow streets of Genova, when I went for a walk through the city after dinner on my day of arrival. I like to think that my sense of direction is reasonably good, so I wrote this off to being tired after the long trip. The next morning, I went to the Spianada di Castelletto, a lookout point with a panoramic view of the town. It quickly became apparent that the maze of alleys (I learned that “vico” means “alley”, not “street” in Italian.)

I later returned to the same lookout to photograph the panorama at sunset, and saw, this time from above, how sparsely illuminated the town was. Actually, some of the alleys are so narrow, that the sunlight does not reach into them even during the day.

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Back to Italy

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Some of my most vivid travel impressions are from the trip to Italy that my wife and I took six years ago. Now, I am planning a short research-related trip to Genova and Milan, where I have never been before. This time, I will go without my family, though, so the dynamics of the trip will be very different. I will have only a couple of days off work for some sightseeing, so I do not have a detailed photography agenda. It would be nice to balance photography with the actual experience of being in the foreign place.

Photography requires a certain amount of focus, which can detract from the travel experience. On the other hand, I find that visual memories, frozen in photographs, largely shape the overall retrospective impression from the trip. I am curious to see how my photos from this year’s trip to Italy would be different from those taken six years ago.

Vernazza at night

Photographing Palio di Siena: logistics of organized chaos

Above the crowd


In the Summer of 2009, my wife and I spent three weeks travelling in Italy, and one of the major highlights of the trip was a five-day visit to Siena during its most famous event – the Palio. Palio di Siena is such a unique phenomenon, that to describe it simply a bareback horse race along the edges of Piazza del Campo, a seashell-shaped medieval square, is to give it no justice. Palio is held twice a year, in July and August, and these festivities are a culmination of a year-long strategic battle between seventeen city wards (‘contrade’). The race itself, which involves ten hired jockeys, is just a tip of the iceberg representing tremendous effort and level of involvement of nearly every Sienese. The rivalry between the contrade are phenomenal.

Panoramic view of Siena. Italy.


When we started planning the trip, we quickly discovered that it was impossible to visit Palio and not become involved in it. This is no exaggeration, but rather a part of the medieval tradition, where visitors of the festivities (basically, tourists) would lodge within a certain contrada, dine with the locals, spend money and, by doing so, support the contrada. We delegated the travel arrangements of the Palio-related portion of our trip to Vacanza Italy, a travel agent based in Canada, who has local Italian connections. They booked us into hotel Ciusarelli, located just a short walk from Piazza del Campo.

A side note of a curious episode, which was very representative of the whole Italian approach to life, which was very fascinating to us, since we became quite “americanized” in our views (living in Canada still does it to you): We could not navigate our way to the hotel’s front door to unload the baggage, as it would require driving about 300 meters wrong way on a one-way street. After asking a police (‘carabinieri’) lady what to do, we were instructed to do precisely that (drive against the traffic) and park temporarily on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, “because you have a good reason for doing this.”

Our local contact named Stella met us at the hotel and informed that we would join the ‘Lupa’ (she-wolf) contrada. We were delighted to wear out black-white-and-gold scarves for the next four days and to get into the Palio spirit. Unfortunately, it was ‘Civetta’ (owl) contrada that won that time.

Palio di Siena. Italy.


As far as photography is concerned, the main challenge with the race itself is getting into the good position close to the track. The best opportunities for shooting are during the practice races that happen twice a day (morning and evening) during the three days before the parade and the final race. Each of the practice races draws an incredibly huge crowd. You can get a sense of the chaos by watching the opening action sequence of “Quantum of Solace”, which is set against the backdrop of a Palio race. To stake a spot by the inner rail of the  race track, we had to be there about 3 hours before the event. At the final race, we had excellent seats with the view of the final turn of the track, but numerous delays of the start pushed the race into the twighlight hours, when the light became too challenging to work with. I wish I knew then what I know now about action photography (such as not to be afraid to push the ISO setting very-very high) and that I had my Canon 1D X with me (it did not exist at the time).

Besides the races, there are other tremendous opportunities for travel photography during the Palio: street portraits, architecture, cityscapes, etc. Siena remains my most memorable photography-centered trip. To summarize the take-home message from the experience of photographing Palio di Siena,  I can say that it required advance planning of the travel logistics (hotel and tickets have to be booked as a package) and flexible mindset while on site, as things appear chaotic and disorganized, but they do work out – they always have, from the early days of Palio in the 14-th century.

Palio di Siena. Italy.

Chinque Terre: persistent vacation

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Browsing through photographs from Italy taken in the summer of 2009, I realized that photos prom Chinque Terre still make me feel as if I was standing at the cliff overlooking Vernazza only yesterday. This is surprising, because usually it takes only a few days after returning home for the “vacation mode” to give way to the daily routine.

During the first couple of days after coming back from our first trip to Europe, it became obvious that my being “off-line” for a few weeks did not result in any particular disasters neither at work nor at home. On the contrary, I felt re-calibrated in terms of my personal and research interests and priorities, so I made a resolution to maintain this “vacation” mindset in daily life. Well, it didn’t work. Instead of being simpler, life became progressively busier.

There is a joke, told to me by a colleague, which describes this situation very well. To paraphrase it: I would like to be a bus driver, because there would be no loads of undriven buses waiting for me after a vacation.

In this sense, an academic job is nothing like bus driving…

However, a glimpse of that Zen post-vacation state can evidently be triggered by a visual image. In this particular case, I was looking for a picture for a photo contest on Flickr and opened a Lightroom library with thousands of photos from our 2009 trip to Czech Republic and Italy. It is always pleasant to browse through old photographs, but the ones from Chinque Terre had a particularly strong effect. These five colorful seaside towns that cling to the cliffs are strikingly beautiful, and the whole region has a romantic atmosphere, which makes it one of the most popular tourist destinations. Visually, I had no reference point for the Liguria landscapes in my prior experience – they are truly unique and seem to be frozen in time centuries ago. Seeing these images, even on a computer screen, even several years later, instantly forced my brain to disengage from the daily “treadmill mode”. This is an example of a picture that is worth a thousand words – there is a tremendous amount and depth of information, including the underlying emotional content, that can be transmitted visually.

At the moment, we are planning a trip to Côte d’Azur, often referred to as the French Riviera, later this summer. It will be our second European trip with Anna. She is 18-months-old now, so she will not remember any of it in a conventional sense, but I wonder if looking at our photographs a few years later would stir up some memories or feelings. I am packing the photo gear just in case.

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