Milan in the 1960s with the almost phallic shadow of the Pirellone, Milan in the fog that blurs the contours of the Duomo and muffles them, Milan and a tram, beautiful, working-class Milan seen from the window of a truck, Milan and its white “cast iron” in the days of pride for the red line, Milan peeing, Milan's toponymy from above.

These few snapshots by Carlo Orsi are enough to outline the “character,” the language of his photography, his visual wisdom, his ability to capture his style in a single shot without long poses waiting for the fleeting moment or the unrepeatable emotion of the moment.

Carlo simply photographs, “captures,” sees, whether he has his beloved Milan within reach of his lens, or whether his steps as a reporter take him to Spain, which he dreams of ‘matar’ and still knows of Francoism, to New York with its bitter Vietnamese legacy, to the desolate subway to Coney Island, or to Berlin with its Wall “cleaned up” for Kennedy's arrival.

In these images, Carlo is as if freed from the long obligation that his profession, that of fashion photography, of photography for a living and, we must say, a good living, has imposed on him, emphasizing his creativity, always finding the alliance of imagination, ingenuity, and the taste for sublimating reality.

This photographer of eye-catching images is as good as the other who constructs suggestions.

But, quietly, I prefer the former.