Cala Paura

CALA PAURA

Two years ago, I spent my holidays in Polignano a Mare, known for being the birthplace of Volare. Its main cove is Lama Monachile, but just a few minutes away lies Cala Paura, a hidden cove I discovered almost by accident. From the very first moment, I knew it was a special place: the mix of calm, sea, and local life made it the natural setting for stopping, observing, and photographing.

This work emerges from a simple and constant relationship with summer, the sun, and the South. I photograph while walking, pausing when the sea, the people, and the architecture find a natural balance. My intention is to clearly record the encounters that appear: a still gesture, a quiet moment, a fragment of light that transforms the day. I work from attention; the place reveals itself when form and light align. These images arise from a direct experience of space, of slower time, and of the everyday presence of those who inhabit it. I do not attempt to explain it; I simply follow its pulse.

At a time when attention seems minimal, photography becomes for me an act of quiet rebellion: a rebellion through observation and through time. I look for places that offer an immediate pulse, an internal signal. I often remain in the same spot for long periods, observing, listening to the surroundings, and sensing how the light evolves. I move slowly among people, speak with them, and learn their rhythms; this process allows me to understand not the history of the place, but its presence—its tempo, its atmosphere, its way of receiving the day.

Cala Paura emerges from these days of slow attention and from the silent encounters between people, the sea, and the summer light. These photographs are impressions, intuitive pulses that arise within this hidden and forgotten place.