Interview
Lorenzo Firmani
Lorenzo Firmani is an Italian photographer who transforms life’s fleeting moments into intimate and evocative visual narratives. Working across both digital and analog formats, he captures emotions and memories with honesty and sensitivity, creating images that feel deeply personal and alive.
His work moves between portraiture, landscape, and everyday life, driven by a constant search for authenticity and quiet beauty. For him, photography is a form of self-reflection, a way to make sense of the world, and an invitation for others to truly see it.
Your work often focuses on subtle, everyday moments. What draws you to these quiet details, and how do you decide when a moment is worth photographing?
I’m drawn to quiet, everyday moments because that’s where I feel things are most honest. Big events tend to demand attention, while subtle moments simply exist, and I find that the stories you can tell through subtle moments feel much more natural. When I have a camera (or any other device capable of taking photos) in my hands, I don’t find it difficult to decide which moment is worth photographing. I know that when something deserves to be captured, my body gives me very strong signals, similar to anxiety: I feel pain in my chest, fire in my stomach. Sometimes I also feel calm, but I’m usually more drawn to moments that put me in a state of emotional distress.
You work with both analog and digital photography. How does each medium influence the way you see, feel, and tell a story?
In my photography workflow, I like to interchange digital and analog photography whenever I want and whenever I feel the need to. What makes them different for me is that I find digital photography much more “brainless,” to use a strong word. What I mean by that is that, considering the state of modern digital cameras, they are capable of shooting immense quantities of photographs in just a few seconds. I think this often makes photographers less focused on what they are doing, relying on the idea that, whatever they are shooting at that moment, there must be one good shot among hundreds. Analog photography makes me much more aware of what I am doing, while also making me more careless: I can’t imagine exactly what I’m going to get from the film. I can get a rough idea in my mind, but everything depends on too many factors to properly control film, and I like that feeling of not being totally in control, but only knowing what I can know through photography.
Photography cuts deep, but without leaving wounds.
YPhotography seems to play an introspective role in your life. How has your relationship with photography changed the way you understand yourself and the world around you?
I feel that photography made me look inside myself like nothing else in my life ever has. I started photography at a moment when my life was cracking into pieces: I was just working and sleeping, with nothing meaningful in between, and I felt like I was dying. Photography started as a result of that. I think it made me shine in a way I’m not sure I had ever felt before. I’ve always been curious about the world around me, but I think photography helped me blend into it and feel everything happening around me with deep emotional involvement.
Many of your images feel intimate and personal. How do you balance documenting your own inner world with creating images that others can emotionally connect with?
I find that my inner world works kind of like a filter between me and the people who look at my photos. I’m sure that feelings of inadequacy, solitude, and not living up to the expectations of the world are shared by a large part of the younger global population. As a result, I think that the way I do things has an impact on many people in this specific moment in the world, in which most of us are required to perform at a level that is often unsustainable. I hope that what I communicate through my pictures can touch the heart of everyone who feels this way.
When working with portraits versus landscapes or daily life scenes, what remains constant in your approach, and what shifts?
While shooting portraits, I’m much more focused on studying the person I’m photographing, their behavior, and translating that into an image. A very important part of portrait photography is respecting your subject and portraying their being with care. When shooting landscapes, I keep some of that same approach by focusing on the study of the territory and the various traditions that make it unique. For everyday life scenes, I like to keep things as natural as possible, making it feel as if time is unraveling before my eyes or, in this case, the viewer’s eyes.
Do you see photography more as an act of observation or as a form of participation in the moment? Why?
I see photography more as a form of participation. That’s because, in life, I almost always feel left out for some reason, probably because I don’t have a very magnetic personality or much interest in drawing attention to myself. I use photography as a way of saying, “I was here, and this is how I perceived you.” Many times, I used to feel like I wasn’t really present in a moment or fully appreciating it, and photography helped me understand that, most of the time, if I feel left out or not involved in something, it’s because I wasn’t truly interested in participating. Obviously, this doesn’t apply to every situation.
What do you hope viewers take with them after spending time with your images, especially in a world that moves so quickly?
This world just keeps moving faster and faster, so I hope my images can offer a chance to slow down and appreciate life and its moments, especially the ones that stay hidden, the ones that often go unnoticed. I also hope that, when people see my photos, they can in turn slow down in their own lives and appreciate the little things once again.
