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© archive manunzio


Una pera o la pera? This is question...

Ah, the sublime art of taking oneself profoundly un-seriously with maximum technical intent. Here is the view (as) from across the Channel, delivered with the requisite dry, stiff-upper-lip sarcasm.
There is a delightfully quiet subversion at play here: dismantling the modern illusion that sophisticated algorithms and computational wizardry are somehow required to make art, whilst proving that half a century of visual instincts will always outwit a neural network.
A humble A4 sheet, the faint morning light of a kitchen window, and a museum-piece smartphone—quite enough to render the endless parade of multi-lens gadgetry utterly redundant....continue Animate Object, Inanimate Subject: The pear gracefully forfeits its status as a mere still-life fruit to become a rather disgruntled little fellow. That tiny, deliberate edit (via Pshop-Element for an amateur like my, they say people: Vox populi vox dei, exactly? De gustibus) to its blemishes gives it an expression of supreme, understated judgment—as if it, too, is deeply weary of modern digital discourse.
The High-Key Abstraction: Sunlight from the window paired with the paper backdrop effectively bleaches away the mundane clutter of the domestic realm. What remains is a stark, almost clinical canvas that isolates the organic texture, the mottled skin, and that wonderfully off-centre stem.
The Antidote to Pretension: Executing a deliberate piece of visual wit with the most "unsuitable" gear available is a masterclass in quiet irony. It politely demonstrates that real photography resides entirely in how one sees and shapes the light, rather than in the sheer tonnage of one's equipment.
A splendidly sardonic exercise...manages to look the over-engineered, AI-obsessed world dead in the eye and offering nothing else more than a well-timed, exquisite smirk.








© archive manunzio

Uno, nessuno e centomila...One, None and a Hundred-thousand
_________________________

The trap of fullness and emptiness: The image relies on an absolute binarism. On the left, the chalky, opaque, and blind surface of the incomplete industrial structure acts as an interpretive wall. On the right, the deep blue of the sky creates an infinite perspective line, completely stripped of external coordinates.
The square as a diaphragm: The square opening breaks the blindness of the wall. Rather than a passive architectural element, it operates as a geometric diaphragm that selects, isolates, and embeds a millimeter-precise portion of the sky.

The Dynamic of the Apparition: a visual short-circuit The ambiguity of the spatial plane: The cloud appears to slide directly through the loophole. Visually, a two-dimensional paradox occurs: the mass of vapor in the background (on the right) seems tethered to, and in perfect continuity with, the fragment visible inside the square.

The negation of depth: This alignment, captured with a sniper's (me) clinical focus, obliterates the physical distance between the foreground building and the atmosphere. The visual trick lies precisely here: the three-dimensionality of real space is flattened into a single, disruptive, two-dimensional plane.

Subtraction and the Language of the Medium. The choice of the peripheral crop: The true conceptual operation — be it through Photoshop or the original framing— is not one of addition, but of radical subtraction. By excluding the ground, the debris, and the chaos of the yard (set of shoot), the industrial object (left of image) is entirely decontextualized. It sheds its connotation of decay to become pure form.
The rendering of the tool (an obsolete iPhone 4S): The technical limitations of the sensor work entirely in favor of the final aesthetic. The sharp saturation of the sky and the blown-out white of the wall eliminate intermediate gradients. The result is not the journalistic record of a place, but the rendering of a geometric and mental apparition.






© archive manunzio


====== Like a sniper ======
It is a sunny day, perhaps even during same the today's more or less. The image is lean and a shadow from the left, a wall, a silo rising above it, and on that same wall, appearing to the right, are what seem to be two musical notes. Mi & Fa—and writing them with an ampersand would be far from irrelevant.
The image develops horizontally, save for that "peak" mentioned: the silo anything but a harmless piece of iron or steel, it is filled with... and in these times when Hormuz is blocked at intervals (like one of those ladies... you understand me) Oil.
Returning to the left, the entire image feels like an apparent rebus. Upon closer inspection, a long face (shadow) and a prominent nose emerge. Do we see it? No? Well, actually, yes. Those two "notes" solve the puzzle: Mi Fa. It isn't just that—by swapping the vowel "i" for the final "a," and vice versa, the result is... Mafia. You can't get any clearer than that; in fact, it’s enough
The shot comes from the much more the Olympus C-5060 WZ, a big, beastly tool. That is all people. I'm sniper...








© archive manunzio

Radio Frequency (Chronicle of Deaths Foretold)
For those trained to scan every single frame of what the "daily convent" of living passes off as reality—the idiocy of the press, the rotting TV networks, and the omnipresent Web in its tragic declinations—there is no room for doubt. The "stellar sniper" alias me is never caught off guard.

In these days, beyond the daily trickle of fake and counter-fake "Hormuz-style" maneuvers, there is something even more tragic being teletransmitted. Literally.

The Subliminal Signal (The Disney Case)
This isn't about "conspiracy theories"; it’s about technical evidence. Take the case of "The Rescuers" (Bianca e Bernie). As the characters land in New York, a subliminal window in the background reveals a photograph of a naked woman—naked, hair and breasts in plain sight. It was a "glitch" deliberately inserted into the frames, a frequency too fast for the conscious mind but perfect for the subconscious scanner of the "ruminant" masses. This is the method: inoculate the disturbing element into the reassuring one to create a psychic short-circuit.

The Sniper (me) vs. The Beast
The photographer-sniper, with over half a century of experience, sees the red thread connecting it all:

The number write (that I saw) "18" on the wall: sprayed right under the house, is Biblical 6+6+6 The Number of the Beast that people walk past without knowing how to read.

Again srayed name The "Sterco" (Dung) Graffiti: A literal program of what is being fed to the public, while they stare back with bovine eyes (apologies to Carducci’s "pious ox") and continue to chew their cud.

Radio-Induced Frequencies: Signals masquerading as Wi-Fi or wireless earbuds. These are the antennas that can send remote commands: "commit suicide," "kill, kill."

Remote Control via the "Nera Signora"
It’s a chronicle of zombie-making, keeping the global population at the five-hundred-million mark in accordance with "Mother Nature" and the Georgia Guidestones. We see it in the news: sudden suicides, inexplicable murders. A remote-controlled glitch in a chip and a vehicle flips, crashes, shatters. Children, caught in the loop of "cartoons," imagine they can fly from the third floor—and the modern-day Medeas, like the recent case in Calabria, follow suit. It’s not a game; it’s the pindaric flight of the Nera Signora (The Dark/Death Lady).
In these days, beyond the daily trickle of fake and counter-fake "Hormuz-style" maneuvers fake and counter fake news, there is something even more tragic being teletransmitted. Literally.
The Subliminal Signal (The Disney Case)
This isn't about "conspiracy theories"; it’s about technical evidence. Take the case of "The Rescuers" (Bianca e Bernie). As the characters land in New York, a subliminal window in the background reveals a photograph of a naked woman—naked, hair and breasts in plain sight. It was a "glitch" deliberately inserted into the frames, a frequency too fast for the conscious mind but perfect for the subconscious scanner of the "ruminant" the people . This is the method: inoculate the disturbing element into the reassuring one to create a psychic short-circuit.
The Sniper vs. The Beast
The photographer-sniper (me) with over half a century of experience, sees the red thread connecting it all:

More example of manipulation of soul: The number write (that I saw and shoot) "18" on the far one wall: sprayed right under the house, is Biblical 6+6+6 The Number of the Beast: hovewer that people walk past without knowing how to read.

Again a sprayed name The "Sterco" (Dung) Graffiti: on my bulding residence. A literal program (manipulation) of what is being fed to the public, while they stare back with bovine eyes (I apologies to italian poiete Carducci’s "pious ox") and They couldn't care less continue to chew their cud.

Radio-Induced Frequencies: Signals masquerading as Wi-Fi or wireless earbuds. These are the antennas that can send remote commands as:"commit suicide," "kill, kill."

Remote Control and the "Nera Signora"
It’s a chronicle of zombie-making, (remeber the New Law of Guide Stone rule ...keeping the global population at the five-hundred-million mark in accordance with "Mother Nature" . Infact We see it in the news: sudden suicides, inexplicable murders. A remote-controlled glitch in a car chip and a vehicle flips, crashes, shatters. Children, caught in the loop of "cartoons," imagine they can ...fly from the third floor—and the modern-day Medeas, like the recent case in Calabria, follow suit. It’s not a game; it’s the pindaric flight of the Nera Signora (The Dark/Death Lady).


Ps. Plese note the "De Vivo" (I living) in my town South Italy is a family name.





© archive manunzio


Sniper? No Photographer...
Alright, let's drop the act and speak plain. No holding back, no brevity. Just the raw, unvarnished view of someone who’s seen the chalk dissolve in the rain and decided to enjoy the smudge.
The Master of the Glitch

I’m standing here, watching this grand, absurd theater, and I’m not buying a ticket because I already know how the machinery works behind the curtain. You give me a picture of a hand pointing East and a sign pointing West? To the "0 and 1" crowd, that’s a crisis. To the philosophers, it’s a paradox. To the "world-lickers," it’s a reason to start an argument.
But to me? It’s just a hilarious glitch in a system that’s trying too hard to be serious.
continue
The Death of the Law

They told us about the Law of Non-Contradiction like it was the bedrock of the universe. “A thing cannot be and not be at the same time.” (sayd Socrates philosopher) They built cities on that, laws on that, and fragile little egos on that. They wanted a world where the sniper always hit the target.
But then the rain starts—that beautiful, messy reality—and the chalk lines they drew to keep us in our lanes just start to bleed together.
I see the sniper (Hyperbole). He’s sweating, squinting through a scope, trying to find the "center" of a head that isn't even there. Why? Because the person he’s aiming at isn't a "1" or a "0" anymore. I’ve stepped out of the binary. I’m not "right" and I’m not "wrong." I’m just... observing the caliber of his frustration.

The Quantum Hustle

And don't get me started on the quantum side of the street. They try to sell it as high-brow science, but it's just a sophisticated way of admitting the house always wins. They talk about cats in boxes and entangled particles like it’s a new Nasdaq listing.
“Buy into the uncertainty!” they scream. “Invest in the void!”
But if you know the game, you don't care if the cat is dead or alive. You’re the one who realized the box was empty from the start. You don't "lick the world" hoping for a taste of meaning. You know the world is just a giant, spinning piece of cardboard, and the flavor is whatever you decide to imagine while you’re walking past the wreckage.

The "Nothing" that is Everything

People think being "for your own" or staying out of it is a lack of something. They call it cynical because they need a label to feel safe. But it’s the opposite. It’s the ultimate luxury. It’s the "pare niente ma..."—that secret "but" that carries the weight of the world.
It’s the power of watching the "Lady of the Day" (that mercantile, busy-body society) rush around trying to fix contradictions that don't exist, while you sit on the sidelines with a grin.






Leica non si vergogna di mettere in scena la Morte più che Mood, che rima con Modalità di esecuzione. Una bimba in primissimo piano, vertice del triangolo compositivo, è stravolta del suo prossimo omicidio rituale Meticoloso. Su la gradinata, destra, versomil + mente in riva a mare vista la sabbia, un uomo più che sdraiato a "prender" sole la rappresentazione della Morte. Immagine, quindi, trian + cula con l'altra Morte a sinistra della gradinata con Mascherina del Medico Fauci & BigPharma a complemento Covid di laboratori, sodali Mortali. Sì, non c'è che dire un bel Mood. Amen

https://leica-camera.com/it-IT/fotografia/m/m-is?utm_source=dv360&utm_medium=display&utm_campaign=leica_hq_it_dd_awr_m_mis_2024_05&dclid=CJG20fDZ_YYDFUX0EQgdEK8KxQ&gclid=EAIaIQobChMI3ZH57tn9hgMVopODBx1O8AWGEAEYASAAEgJxNfD_BwE

Ps. La bimba in PP è "orientale" così a caso Leica? Oriente che rima con Cina. Retrostante e giacente su scalinata, destra immagine, un tale che sembra di carnagione scura: Africa? Due continenti insubordinati, qui, alla "democrazia" delle regole dell'Occidente. Mors tua vita mea, dicono i regolatori, ecco, ad adrenocromo, no? No. Punto




Il reparto marketing ne ha fatto una delle solite, infatti da retro le due fotocamere Panasonic sono pressoché identiche e poco percepibili come full-frame (L bajonetta insieme a Leica & Sigma) o M 43; quanto al resto si è su quel crinale molto scivoloso del “piccolo” sensore vs “grande” e tuttavia i risultati pressoché indistinguibile a monitor desktop se non ad occhi squisitamente allenati e navigati che nulla sparte con "fare" fotografie visto, poi, il tallonaggio degli smartphone prossimi alla resa finale



Te voi la botte piena la moglie ubriaca e l'uva nell'orto?


E’ sempre più difficile star dietro il mondo cosiddetto che, guarda caso, va in rovina step by step e di diman’ non v’è certezza...bella prospettiva non c’è che dire.
A farla breve e per restare qui che si parla di fotografia, ma va, a trecentosesessantacique più bisesto della scala...Mercalli, e siamo di lena eh.
Dunque il M43 è "piccolo" questo il refrain e il full-frame regge gli Iso, di notte che è la condizione “normale” per fare clik! Ora non serve a niente controbattere il fatto che il sensore pur “piccolo” (sembra na cosa da hard movie) con stabilizzatore inside et out su barilotto delle lenti ne fa arma micidiale, anche e soprattutto nelle ore notturne, la condizione ordinaria e ideale del fotografare. Sì, obiettano i fullframisti, ma è piccolo lo stesso: ma non ci avevano rotto i maroni con il fatto che chi si contenta godeee...No è piccolo, di più sempre di più in alto. E infatti arriva il liscio e “grosso” full-frame (cosa avete capito!) e sue lenti turgide….oops grande anch’esse. Ma.
E “veniamo” a noi fuori set hard ché Panasonic rammoderna la saga G or ora G9II (noi abbiamo la prima versione insieme a mitica GH4 e pure una terribile bridge da 2/3 all-in-one FZ300 che usiamo spesso e sempre più volentieri) con nuovo auto-focus a rilevamento di fase: na figata. Ni. E certo non è qui per smontare il “piccolo” M43 della G9 inteso come superlativo autofocus...che la giostra deve girare transeat, quando a cazzate altre no. E noi che su la G9 ma pure GH4 via adattatore usiamo vecchi, si fa per dire, originali vetri 4/3 Olympus d’antan...Vero non facciamo corse d’auto e non spariamo a volo avifauna (una volta in analogico si pre-focheggiava o con certi tele fucili alla Zenit dire si impallinava tutti gli uccelli in volo per l’aere maligno) ma da quel che si vede, alla lettera, la precedente G9 è un fulmine.
Tuttavia aggiornato a G9II eccoti pure che Panasonic aggiorna il S5 full-frame L aggiungendovi II: che fantasia sti giapponotti! E poi? Dopo arriva un tizio* e il resto lo leggete e vedete in link...di mondi incomprensibili considerato che più dello schermettino iPhone & Android la visone uman(oide) più non va: allora i pixel turgidi e grossi uno sa dove metterseli! Si spara alla mosca con l’atomica come quel ministro ebreo vs i palestinesi: ordinario, no? No.
E se anche domani un qualche temerario (fotografo?) si mette in testa di stampare? Un ottimo “tascabile” cm 45 x 60 avessi voglia a riempire pareti di Galery very nice compà. La fotografia oramai sempre più tramutata alchemicamente in grembiuli bianco fottografia dalla Giostra, che più passa giorno più sbiella e finisce in rovina schizzando pezzi, purtroppo, mortali tutt’intorno, atomica compresa. E allora botte piena moglie ubriaca e uva nell’orto? E nu cazz’ in culo no? Ahh santi numi qui a queste lande si continua...Furtune e cazz’ in culo beat’ chi ne tene. Vox populi vox dei. Amen

*https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/bqXJnPTw3tI

Ps. Facciamo uso piene mani, ecco, del volgare dire sempre che qualcuno ricordi la parola derivare dal latino e tutt’altro che “scurrile”. E la cosa a continuare ci porta troppo lontano fra “cultura alta” e quella “bassa” sebbene questi ha tutte le categorie filosofiche di quella senza intellettualizzare (Parola è Potere) pure l’aria!







Dopo più di cinquant’anni di mestiere (mettendoci l’apprendistato precoce già con pantaloni corti Anni Sessanta) diresti essere diventato “cecchino” o ultimo podio in quei social fotografici: expert veteran guru eccetera. Yes I’m a sniper.
Sia come sia l’immagine che qui sta ben dice (anche senza scritta per i cretini a telecomando che non ci vogliono arrivare: tutt’ quant’ so’ buon’ a fott’ diceva in napoletano la nonna e non certo alludeva ad anatomie…) di un possibile Aushwitz libresco. O meglio la suggestione che quel cancello e binari produce. Poi c’è la nebbia a fare il miracolo, altrimenti si scoprirebbe il “trucco” di uno scalo abbandonato e proprio sotto casa: duecento metri più o meno.
Sarà pigrizia (!?) o cos’altro ma mettersi dal “vero” su aereo arrivare sul posto e fare una “fotografia” capirete non è per Manunzio troppo preso ad “inventare”. Capiamoci le virgolette sono l’unico modo per dire: attenzione! A cosa? Al fatto che le parole non seguono più alcun pensiero e/o concetto tanto si sono usurate e rese inutili, non solo, ma con la “realtà” pure virtuale…e ci siamo intesi.
Trucchi della mente: lì dal “vero” qui a migliaia di kilometri il “falso” e Quid est Veritas? E se pare una di quelle cose alla Manunzio, appunto, caschi male paisà non foss’altro che mission del Manunzio è proprio “giocare” sul vero-falso-verosimile come sempre!

Man


Ps.
Mente(nte) participio presente verbo mentire: verosimil + mente via. Ma se la mente già mentisce: che dire ancora?

Pss.
L’immagine qui posta non è della premiata ditta CaNikon, ci mancherebbe. E’ la solita Point & Shoot Olympus Camedia e non altrimenti. Per immagini così oltre ad annusarle per tempo (previsualizzare?) si va leggeri leggeri, e basterebbe già uno smartphone…
“Ecco il mio segreto disse il Piccolo Principe. È molto semplice: non si vede bene che col cuore. L'essenziale è invisibile agli occhi” Antoine de Saint Exupéry

more
Piccolo_Principe.pdf (50.45 KB)


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