The Venice I know Photo Gallery

xSan Marco, twice. Once in stone. Once in water. On mornings like this, Venice offers you the photograph without resistance. No drama, no performance. Just alignment. Architecture, light, and stillness agreeing, briefly, to exist in the same frame. You do not need speed here. You need presence. And the discipline to recognise when nothing more is required. Leica sees this kind of moment honestly. No exaggeration. No noise. Just structure, tone, and time. Venice, as it is. #leica #venice #monochrome #photography #workshop

For years I have been travelling through Istria quietly. Not in a rush, not trying to “cover” it, but returning to the same places at the right hours. Watching how Motovun emerges from the fog. How Rovinj changes completely between afternoon and blue hour. How small villages like Grožnjan and Pićan reveal themselves only when nothing much seems to be happening. It is a place that rewards patience. Over time, some of my private clients have asked me to work with them there, not only in Venice, but across the peninsula. Slowly, without really announcing it, I have been building a structure around those days. I have now decided to open this as a dedicated private photographic experience based entirely in Istria. Not a tour, but a focused photographic workshop, working at sunrise and sunset, moving through coastal towns and inland hill villages, with the flexibility to follow light and conditions rather than a fixed schedule. If you are curious, I have described it here: https://www.msecchi.com/istria-photography-workshop For now, this is simply an opening. I will continue refining it over the coming months, but it felt like the right moment to make it visible. Istria is still one of the few places left where photography can unfold slowly.

There are mornings in Venice when the city feels like it is still deciding whether to exist. San Marco, usually loud with footsteps, voices, and cameras, reduced to the sound of water moving across stone. The cafés empty. The chairs waiting. The arcades fading into the fog as if they had no real edge. And then, a small interruption. A man walking. A dog crossing the flooded square, unconcerned by history, architecture, or the fact that this place will soon belong again to thousands. Moments like this never last. Not because the light changes, but because the city wakes up. The illusion closes. Photography, for me, has never been about documenting Venice as it is seen by everyone. It is about being there in the few minutes when it belongs to almost no one.

First morning. First workshop. Carnival 2026 is officially underway for me. Venice did that thing it does when you arrive early enough, blue hour still holding on, the arcades glowing, water turning the whole square into a mirror. No crowds yet, no rush, just masks, reflections, and that quiet agreement that this is worth waking up for. This was from the very first stop of the very first Carnival workshop of the year. A good omen, I’d say. 🎭✨

The February full moon is traditionally called the Snow Moon. Not because it makes things beautiful, but because it arrives when winter is at its most honest. Cold, slow, stripped back. For centuries it marked a pause in the year, a moment to endure rather than push forward. A reminder that not all time is for growth or progress. Some of it is simply for being here, exactly as things are.

Ljubljana, Carnival time. For a few days the city belongs to bells, fur, horns, and something much older than tourism. Kurenti passing through Ljubljana during Carnival, bells and fur echoing a ritual that comes from Ptuj, not the city streets. a ritual meant to chase winter away and invite spring back in. Heavy costumes, animal skins, loud cowbells, and that slightly unsettling energy you only get when folklore is still alive, not staged. What I love is the contrast. Brutal masks, sharp horns, serious faces… and then kids wearing them like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Tradition handed over without explanation. Shot with a Leica, because this kind of moment does not need tricks, just presence and a bit of respect for what is unfolding in front of you. Sometimes Carnival is not about colour and confetti. Sometimes it is about noise, weight, history, and letting winter know its time is up.