"Morocco, Sentimental Atlas" is a carefully curated collection of everything I have deeply loved in this extraordinary and singular country. It is a tribute to Morocco’s bold contrasts and to the boundless creative energy that courses through its landscapes, its cities, and its people. Yet beyond its vibrant surfaces, Morocco holds for me a more intimate significance. It is the birthplace of my wife, the land where her roots lie. "Morocco, Sentimental Atlas" is therefore not only a tribute, but also a personal quest: an attempt to chart the emotions that bind her memory to this place, weaving together past and present, and forging a bond that will last a lifetime. Capturing such a complex, emotional landscape called for an approach guided first and foremost by intuition. Rather than following a rigid plan, I allowed myself to be led by the natural rhythm of the places, by the atmospheres that shifted with the time of day and the changing seasons. Wandering through cities and villages, I sought to be surprised — and moved — by the everyday poetry that Morocco so generously offers.

Everything begins with light — without it, there can be no color. In Morocco, light is not simply a backdrop: it is a living force, shaping the atmosphere moment to moment, shifting with the time of day and the seasons. I have always believed that photography must be grounded in natural light — a living, organic presence that mirrors the very essence of being. Nowhere is this truer than in Morocco, where the light is incredibly generous, offering one of the richest and most remarkable palettes in the world. Here, light gives birth to colors that are not merely seen but experienced — vivid, soulful, as immediate and alive as the everyday gestures and the extraordinary generosity of its people. Bringing this feeling to life meant surrendering to the light and colors themselves, allowing them to lead and shape the visual story with their own rhythm and poetry.

For me, inspiration often starts with a simple moment — that meeting between silence and light. The wish to capture an image comes from something we carry inside us, a story that shapes how we see and explore the world. When I approach a scene, I try to stay attentive to the natural harmony between the elements, almost as if the space itself suggests what should be seen. Rather than constructing a composition, I prefer to wait for a moment when light, color, and life naturally come together. It’s less about creating something and more about revealing what’s already there. Maybe that’s why the images seem to move between street photography and conceptual art — they are not staged, but found in real life, yet they sometimes take on a symbolic or timeless feeling.

Color also plays an important role; it gives meaning and presence to even the simplest subjects. In rare moments, when everything aligns, a photograph can capture something that feels quietly eternal.

Morocco is a land that encompasses different worlds, yet finds its balance in an extraordinary harmony, a contagious positivity, and a natural generosity. I don’t know if I will ever fully understand this rich and mysterious land, but what I hope is that my images can serve as an invitation for everyone — photographers and non-photographers alike — to discover a place where every corner reveals scenes that seem painted or drawn, but are actually the spontaneous compositions of daily life. Morocco is a welcoming country, a place where one feels part of something bigger, as if we’ve always known it. I am certain that anyone visiting this extraordinary country for the first time will immediately feel that warmth and sense of belonging.

I will soon travel to Finland for a new experimental project that blends elements of street and architectural photography — a challenge I’m eager to begin. Afterwards, I’ll return to Morocco to continue working on the Sentimental Atlas. The project is currently on display in Palermo, Italy’s first-ever exhibition dedicated to Morocco, curated by renowned art historian Daniela Brignone at the Letizia Battaglia International Photography Center. In December, it will move to Galerie Bab Rouah, a prestigious state museum in Morocco, where new works will also be presented. Meanwhile, I’m continuing to gather images for another atlas I’ve started, dedicated to the hidden side of Paris.

The list is endless, ranging from early color pioneers like Keld Helmer-Petersen to masters such as Ernst Haas, Franco Fontana, Luigi Ghirri, Harry Gruyaert, and Saul Leiter, all the way to contemporary visionaries like Tania Franco Klein and Christopher Anderson.