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I was busy shooting a those urban eyesores—like aseptic building named the Courthouse, which is exactly las that, nothing but raw cement and glass—when out of the corner of my eye, this "povr' Maronna" (neapoletan dialect for a woman) appeared for just a moment.
With the glorious Olympus Camedia C-5060WZ in hand, on the fly "zacchete".
No RAW files—when you have the "manico" (the skill), you don't need them. I cropped the image precisely, in fact without that crop, it would have been just a massive block of a building and the woman would have remained insignificant.
It was a stroke of luck, sure, but and a sharp eye, nothing less.








© archive manunzio

----- Red Evil-Hair -----
The transition from a mundane tablecloth to an archetypal image is a classic masterclass in visual rhetoric. By isolating the fold, (a cover on table living room) I’ve employed a powerful synecdoche—where the fragment stands in for a biological and carnal whole. The "malice" of the photographer, so, lies in the deliberate use of focus and saturation to bypass the object's utility, forcing the viewer to confront a raw, organic metaphor.
Without a grasp of these rhetorical shifts, photography remains a mere recording of facts; here, it becomes a provocative dialogue between the eye and the mind.

The use of visual rhetoric (metaphor and metonymy) transform a domestic surface into a carnal, organic archetype.The high-saturation red palette with a sharp tactile texture in the central "wound," is a demonstration, that mastering the "art" requires the ability to see the hidden potential in the banal through a filtered, intentional gaze.




date » 07-05-2026 11:29

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© archive manunzio


Theory & Practice.
Sometimes the second term takes it upon itself to correct the first. Since we are talking about colors here, specifically those primal vials of pigment in the experiments of late 19th and early 20th-century scientists, I recall those Einstein-like "big brains" presenting to the public the possibility of mixing three colors to obtain the entire spectrum, black included.

In words, at least. Because if you actually try to mix them, that black is nothing more than a dense brown. To get a black that is blacker than black, you must add the K to the classic CMY. It is a fitting example of how, once again, what you see with the eye is one thing, but when you print—inkjet included—if you use the triad without the Black, you are finished.

Long-winded, but necessary. Now, to us: Reds.

As days go by, the surroundings "animate" with Red, even a nice metallic version. So be it. If you look at certain advertisements for chocolate bars—which look good to us too, yum yum—the carousel turns red, almost Viking, coppery. People will say: "My friend, it’s just fashion." Red? Sic et simpliciter. Ah, how naive... Red for Passion (in these undifferentiated androgynous times?) but also for blood, unfortunately. And various satanisms seasoned with Torah and Talmud to stay within the Judeo-Christian sphere. No, it is a beautiful color, at least when flaunted out of context. But for those who understand that the Number of the Beast is written in letters of fire—red, right?—666, it is quite another story.

Perhaps the infamous world is not made of signs and symbols? It seems it is, whether attributed to the good Confucius of the East or anyone else. It is also the color in my DNA, but I know how to keep it at bay, during daytime activity and when it imagines—always the Red—failing me in my sleep. But I manage that sleep magnificently: I sleep like the miles, one eye open and the other dozing!





© archive manunzio


The image of paper and glue make triggers an involuntary calembour visual and linguistic pun. When seen through the lens of a calembour, the decay ceases to be damage and becomes a deliberate semantic short circuit.

The Paradox of Identity ("All the women you are"). The Exte slogan, "tutte le donne che sei" (all the women you are), is met with a ruthless visual pun. The physical layering literally stacks different "women" on top of one another. Beneath the arm of the model in the red blazer, the face of another woman from the underlying poster emerges. The advertising promise of "internal multiplicity" is transformed into a fragmented, almost monstrous external reality made of scraps and cellulose.

Cerchi Partner / Ex-te
A sharp wordplay arises from the accidental juxtaposition of the two posters:
The top layer asks: "Cerchi partn..." (Looking for a partner...).
The bottom layer answers with the brand: "exte". Read vertically, it suggests an ironic invitation: "Looking for a partner? Ex-te" (An ex of you). The calembour shifts the context from fashion and classified ads to a cynical commentary on relationships—seeking someone who is merely a projection or a "past version" of oneself.

Stratification as "Text"
For this the pun is an existential condition rather than an error:
Decomposition: The "btobe" logo (business to business) sits atop the fashion imagery, stripping away the aesthetic value to highlight the purely commercial nature of the "advertising flesh."
Materiality: The tear running through the model's leg creates a "gap" that speaks through silence.
What looks like a ruined wall is actually a piece of semantic guerrilla art. The layering doesn't hide meaning; it reveals a new one that neither original advertisement possessed on its own.


© archive manunzio


The image shows a riverbed flowing through a landscape heavily obscured by dense fog. In the foreground, the water is clear and shallow, revealing a bed of grey and tan pebbles and stones. The river transitions from the bottom left toward the center of the frame, where it curves slightly to the right and disappears into the white mist.
On both sides of the river, there is thick vegetation consisting of shrubs and trees. The foliage displays a mix of autumnal colors, including muted greens, deep reds, and brownish-yellows. A prominent tree with yellowing leaves stands near the center-right, its form softening as it recedes into the fog. The background is almost entirely washed out by the atmospheric conditions, creating a high-key effect where the sky and the distant landscape merge into a solid pale grey.
The lighting is completely flat and non-directional due to the heavy overcast and mist, which eliminates any distinct shadows. This lack of contrast emphasizes the textures of the stones in the water and the hazy silhouettes of the branches. The overall composition uses the river as a leading line that guides the eye from the sharp detail of the foreground into the total obscurity of the background.
The image has a soft, organic texture characteristic of early digital sensors from the early 2000s, which manages the transition of the fog without significant digital artifacts or harsh transitions.
The Olympus C-5060 Wide Zoom (used in this shoot) was a machine that defied the disposable logic of the early 2000s. It was built with a magnesium alloy shell and a fast, high-quality 27-110mm equivalent lens that allowed for a mechanical precision usually reserved for the analog gear you handled since 1969. In this shot of the city stream, the optics did the heavy lifting. The wide-angle glass pulled in the atmosphere of the fog without letting the digital sensor turn it into a muddy mess.
The mechanics of that specific lens allowed for a clarity in the foreground pebbles that anchors the entire image, while the natural diffusion of the mist was handled by the glass elements themselves. It was not a software trick; it was a physical capture of light through an objective that knew how to "see" depth. The result is an image where the moisture in the air feels tactile, a testament to a tool that was more than just a toy for the masses.



© archive manunzio.it


The "CCD Soul" & The Art of Playing Possum


This frame is a testament to the Olympus E-1 and its legendary Kodak CCD sensor. Pushing the camera to 800 ISO was a deliberate move to challenge the aesthetic of professional film. The resulting grain is a thick, cinematic atmosphere that anchors the deep reds of the leather sofa and the subject’s silhouette, mimicking the organic density of an analog negative.

At the center of it all is the model—as Lucio Dalla Disperato erotico song, would say, a "gran figa"—whose presence is the magnetic core of this visual excavation. Her gaze creates a friction that only a CCD sensor, with its film-like color science, could translate into such visceral tones.

The shot is the result of two grueling sessions—over six hundred frames where nothing was left to chance. Much like Douglas Kirkland during his iconic evening with Marilyn, using his Hasselblad to choreograph a "dance of seduction" through the lens, the photographer chose to "play possum" (pesce in barile).
The result is a psychological standoff that embraces the "Kirkland style": where a slight out-of-focus or a hint of motion blur isn't a mistake, but a heartbeat. It’s a mix of organic warmth and cold calculation. No filters, no modern tricks—just the raw, physical output of a 4/3 classic, proving that soul always beats resolution.





Uccelli

Dopo giorni coronarici in cui dalla finestra di confinamento, via Dpcm (non già Dl, che avrebbe comportato ben altra procedura e con Parlamento) del Nonelettodanessuno Giuseppi ma pronto e lesto controfirmati da un signore di canuto pelo, detto Presidente Mattarella su la via di una qualche barberia e relativo taglio capillare... vedevo stormi di uccelli volteggiare e in discese e risalite mozzafiato per tenere a bada altri decisamente come tizzoni infernali volanti, in guerra aree per il possesso dell’areale. E al momento sembra essere a favore dei soliti passeriformi e rondini. Ma non ci si può giurare, anzi, pare un altro tassello di questi giorni sempre coronarici a telecomando, di sospensione in attesa di non si sa cosa di preciso.
E così che le azzuffate aeree portano, di memoria in memoria, alle sequenza di Alfred Hitchcock: sì, il suo film Uccelli, meta +fora e sui rapporti tra bipedi beccati dalle ali. E meno male che, per adesso, i messaggeri degli dei o anime secondo tribù americane di indiani, non ci assalgono veramente.
Tuttavia se non di becco, ecco, molti e troppi alati in ogni dove terrestre, strano o coincidenza con questi coronarici tempi, sono morti in modo inspiegabile: forse precursori di quello che è poi puntualmente accaduto al corrente, similmente e preconizzati “fatti inspiegabili” (benché le borse e loro tonfi non lo sono) dell’Undici settembre di inizi Millennio. Ah naturalmente siamo sempre nel 2020, anno bisesto e quanto mai funesto e con tanto di altri “emuli” Ezechiele a cantarne “avvertimenti”. Coincidenze. Forse



Nb. I link sono di tutto e di più, alcuni scettici nel raccontare, però, pari accadimenti “inspiegabili” fatti in altre si parla di morti e relative indagine su lo squasso dell’apparato respiratorio dei volatili stramazzati; non di meno tra debunker e soliti complottardi de borgata, così la vulgata di un sempre verde Pablo Cattivissimo via Cicap o apparati amerikani più o meno “deviati” resta ben inteso, come ripetuto fino a sfinimento dei c...onsimili fatti che dinanzi al neurone, triste solitario e finale, di chi per un verso o per ventura legge qui di usare la propria testa, che per troppa gente serve a spartire le orecchie di circostanze “inspiegabili”!

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