Winnicott’s account of play is useful because it offers a description of how and why some artworks are effective on some and not others, how the experience of game-play is meaningful and potentially liberating, and why play is a recurring component of social relations and adult life.

There are fewer people because I realized: if I increase the complexity, it doesn’t necessarily make it more interesting.

[His work] reminds me of "Domenica d’agosto” (A Sunday in August) by Luciano Emmer, that incredible 1950 film based on a story by Sergio Amidei and a screenplay by Franco Brusati, where, in the hot days of a beach in Ostia, six different stories intersect.

Since before the Renaissance paintings were full: on the bottom you would find the patrons who had commissioned the work, normally on the right side, then the knights, saints, Madonnas, kids, and angels. Why shouldn’t we be able to take photographs with the same configuration?

Despite the large number of people in many of the scenes and regardless to the photographer’s visibility to them in their own field of view, only a handful of people ever seem to be looking at him (that is, at us).

All street photography has always focused on searching for something significant in ordinary situations. Instead I don’t look for anything significant but I do invent great stories. Irrelevant.

Each photographed tribe has its own look, references and music, but they also share common hopes, or utopias; a desire for community, for a generational unity, for a transcendency through sound and dance.

When film disappeared – and today it has no reason for being – and with a certain quality having been obtained in digital photography, I went ahead with digital photography.

In conversation with Luke Blackall from London Live, at the occasion of the opening of my show "Short Stories" at Mazzoleni Gallery in London.

In 1997 I had already started to make the beaches series and in the winter I thought that the discotheques might be a winter substitute for the beaches.