After Carnival, the work continues

The masks fade, the work continues, and the road ahead is already unfolding

Carnival in Venice has now come to an end.

The last masks have disappeared. The early mornings, the long days, the quiet walks back home with cold hands and full memory cards, all of it now already feels slightly distant. As always, it passed both slowly and suddenly.

This year was especially meaningful for me, not because of any single image, but because of the people I had the privilege to work with.

To all of you who came to Venice and trusted me to guide you through it, thank you. It is never something I take for granted.

I also owe a debt of gratitude to my staff and assistants. A series of workshops of this scale in a city as complex as Venice is a logistical puzzle. Their tireless work behind the scenes allowed me to focus entirely on the photography and on my guests. They are the backbone of these experiences, and I am grateful for their professionalism.

And just like that, Carnival steps quietly back into the fog. The masks disappear. The gondolas remain. Venice returns to itself, as if nothing had happened at all.

What I try to offer is not just access to locations, but access to a way of seeing. To slow down in a place that is constantly trying to rush you. To wait. To recognise when the image is not yet there, and when suddenly, quietly, it is.

Perhaps the most satisfying part is watching that shift happen.

Somewhere between the first uncertain frames and the final morning, something changes.

The camera becomes quieter.

Decisions become simpler.

The photographer begins to see, rather than search.

Due to demand, I have already opened bookings for Carnival 2027. It may seem early, but those who understand Carnival know that preparation begins long before the masks appear.

The masks are only one part of Carnival. What matters just as much are the street, the people, and the hidden Venice beyond the obvious locations. This is where photographers learn not just to photograph an event, but to observe a city in transformation.

But Carnival is only one chapter.

The next three months will take me across a very different geography.

• I will spend time in Budapest, a city that continues to reveal new layers no matter how often I return.

• In Istria (Croatia), where I have just launched a new workshop focused on its hill towns, coastal light, and quieter rhythm.

• There will be several returns to Venice, not for Carnival, but for the Venice that exists outside of spectacle.

• And journeys further east, including Transylvania and Prague, places where time moves differently, and where photography rewards patience above all else.

Each location offers something distinct. Not better or worse. Just different conversations with light.

Before the heat, before the crowds. Rovinj wakes up slowly, offering a brief window where the light does all the work for you.

September: The Slovenian High

September will be dedicated to Slovenia. It is a month of shifting altitudes and alpine clarity. We will move from the iconic, mirrored stillness of Bled and the deeper, more untamed waters of Bohinj, eventually heading toward the rugged peaks of Triglav.

In the mountains, the light loses its summer haze and finds a sharp, cinematic edge. It is a landscape that demands a different kind of physical and visual presence—where the scale of the Julian Alps humbles the lens and forces you to find the human element within the vastness.

The October Exhale

And then, October…

October in Venice has always held a special place in my work. The crowds soften, the air cools, and the city finally breathes. I’ll be back then for a full range of workshops, for those who want to go beyond visiting and instead learn to truly see.

For now, I am packing, preparing, and moving forward.

The work continues.