Silviadinatale.studio

17/05/2026

Today, I created a simple still life fragile and imperfect like the quiet dialogue inside me. Antonio Damasio says that emotions are a bridge between body and reason, this means that our feelings, like the warmth of a touch or the tension in a memory, connect the physical world inside us to our thoughts. I made this arrangement in a kind of instinctive chaos: gathering objects from my studio, simple flowers from my garden, each piece a step in my personal path. Despite the success of my client work, despite the projects, I needed to express myself. This is my language raw, even if technically imperfect, new. I never used this kind of bright light before like stepping out of a personal underground, seeing brightness after so long, being blind. And in these old 50s toasting glasses I collect each one a story, a toast once held I see my own longing. As Bachelard says, "We are made of dreams and broken things."
And I want to ask you something, gently, imperfectly, raw.

Where do you create from when you are not “performing” your work, your role, your expectations?
What is your instinctive chaos your own way of gathering pieces of yourself back together?

Thanks you for being here 💫🙏🏻

06/05/2026

22/04/2026

Spring is not staged. It is perceived. 🪻
For this series created in collaboration with chef and , I had the pleasure and honour to translate a cuisine that exists at the threshold between nature and cognition where wild herbs are not ingredients, but sensory triggers of memory, place, and time.
Each dish is a temporary architecture of perception. Each frame an attempt to hold what the brain instinctively edits away.
As Antonio Damasio suggests in his work on consciousness: "we do not simply perceive reality we reconstruct it through feeling."
This is where food becomes more than nourishment, and photography becomes more than observation: both become a negotiation between body, memory, and attention.
🙏🏻 Grateful for the trust in this collaboration where food photography turns into narrative, ecology, and perception itself.
Thanks you.

ً

06/02/2026

When a book chases you… you chase it!
As promised in my stories, here are more original images from the book "Sapori Nascosti".
Between recipes, slow gestures, and the Friulian black truffle, there’s also me…
…and my border collie Elga, who never misses a chance to peek (or sneak a taste).
In this project, I photographed:
• authentic recipes from the heart of Friuli Venezia Giulia with chef Roberto Gruden
• Intense, earthy ingredients (yes, I’m talking about Tuber mesentericum) and intense places
• slow, real, fun kitchen moments and Nicoletta (that I mentuoned in the reel before)

Swipe ➡️ to see the behind the scenes: pages of the book, smiles, and a little canine chaos.

ً

30/12/2025

Winter roses magic🌹
The Rosa di Gorizia teaches us elegance through bitterness a winter flower that grounds flavors and sharpens intention.
A New Year’s idea for a vegan aperitivo: vegan flour focaccia, plant-based creaminess , h**p cream and the quiet strength of seasonal leaves, imagined together with Alessia, The Vegan Side of the Moon 🌙
Thank you, Alessia, for sharing vision, sensitivity and trust.
Wishing everyone a gentle yet powerful 2026 — the Year of the Horse 🐴✨

recipe for the veg focaccia in the comments.

ً

24/11/2025

Between Spirit and Silence.
On the rugged coasts of the Kii Peninsula and remote Japanese islands, I was forced to stop and slow down. A sudden health crisis changed my plans but in that stillness, I found a part of myself I’d long ignored: the woman who’s done people‑pleasing, the one who finally wants to breathe for herself.
In a dusty old shop in Kumano, a vintage photo with the words “every day is a new day” spoke to me. Faces in white, hats and poles, frozen in time like a silent ceremony of renewal. That moment felt like a Shinto whisper, a reminder from the kami that life is sacred and ever‑changing. Walking through Okunoin on Mount Kōyasan, surrounded by ancient cedar trees and mosscovered tombstones, I sensed a profound presence. The kami, the spirits of nature, seemed to speak through the quiet through wind, light, stone. A butterfly on Amami island, worn wooden geta in a mountain village, the rugged bark of a thousand-year-old tree: every detail held meaning. The autumn light was warm yet cold, mirroring my inner crisis and unexpected rebirth.
A Japanese proverb kept resonating in my mind: “Nanakorobi yaoki” • “fall down seven times, stand up eight.” It became my quiet mantra: falling doesn’t mean failing, but learning. Through my camera lens, I try to capture this fragile balance, between vulnerability and strength, between who I was and who I’m becoming.

07/10/2025

Between Light and Matter
In the silence of a gesture, food becomes language.
Textures, cuts, and breaths intertwine
where the knife extends thought
and the plate becomes a canvas of anticipation.
Every flavor tells an invisible story,
balanced between precision and poetry.
I’ve been quiet for a while,
immersed in work, in silence, in change.
But here I am again, ready to share, to create,
to rediscover the beauty of my craft.

🎃This season feels like a soft beginning,
a rediscovered autumn filled with light and promise.

What do you think of this newfound autumn?

New projects are coming and soon, I’ll tell you about my beloved vineyards.🍇
In this post the beauty of universe

24/09/2025

If we don’t take care of nature, we will never have peace. Because we are nature, part of a single web of life.
Every time I photograph gathered with patience, I return to that visceral bond with my ancestors and with the forest: cold dawns, silent steps among deer, waiting, observing, feeling. These are images, but in truth they are roots.

🔸Arne Næss spoke of deep ecology: every living being has a value that doesn’t depend on us. Mary Midgley reminded us that Earth is not an object, but a living organism with which we share destiny.

🔸Timothy Morton writes about hyperobjects: climate change, pollution, war they are not far away, they move through us, they are already inside us.

In a time when the tragedy of Gaza shows us what happens when every sense of care and respect for life is lost, I return to photography and to nature. Because there I find a sense of belonging that today, on the surface of the world, seems to vanish.
Photography then becomes an act of resistance: to capture fragile beauty, to preserve memory, to remind us that we are not separate but part of a whole.

🤍 And if we could learn to respect nature, perhaps we could also learn to respect each other as human beings!
Peace Peace

15/07/2025

Summer Summer vibes shooting
~
There’s a moment when summer seems to hold its breath.
They call it golden hour, it feels like time softens and the light begins to speak.
Light becomes texture, memory, warmth. It touches water, wine, skin.

I tried to capture not just summer… but its quiet pulse.
🍷✨ Where does golden hour feel most alive to you?
Tell me a place, a moment...or just a color!

Thanks to the team for let me create this shooting 💚

📹
🧑🏼‍💻

🇮🇹

09/07/2025

Food is never simply sustenance.
It is memory, culture, labor • a living archive of human presence and dignity.

Roland Barthes once wrote that
-“to eat is to appropriate by destruction. To photograph is to save by framing.”-
This paradox fascinates me.

🍲In the kitchen, hands transform raw elements into a narrative;
behind the lens, I try to preserve that story, not just the final dish.
Food holds dignity ; a dignity often overlooked in our fast, disposable world.
It demands respect for its origin, its makers, and the care embedded in every ingredient.

My fav - Albert Camus reminds us:
“The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart.”
In every plate, every cut, every silence of the kitchen, I see a similar struggle, a dialogue between craft and meaning, between intention and chance.

✨Photographing food is not about staging or idealizing. It is about presence: a truthful encounter with what is made, who makes it, and why.

This work is political, poetic, and profoundly human. It honors the invisible labor, the sweat and precision, the culture folded into each ingredient.

To cook and to show food with dignity is to resist erasure.
It is to acknowledge the value of every element, from soil to table, from hand to lens.📷

What stories do your kitchens whisper?
What does your food say, if you listen closely?

In this space, between plate and camera,
we witness not only a meal, but a moment suspended in time: fragile, powerful, alive. We could. We have the privilege to that meal. Don't forget.

May we all look deeper.