Sometimes all it takes is shifting your gaze by a few centimeters to notice that two things, until then completely unrelated, seem to belong to the same image. A color that reappears, a shape that completes itself, an element that happens to find its place next to another. These are quick, almost invisible coincidences, which photographer Domingo Nardulli gathers in the photographic series Allineamenti silenziosi (Silent Alignments).

The project stems from a small obsession: finding order in things without having to impose it. Domingo Nardulli observes what surrounds him and waits for the elements themselves to create a relationship. Cars, trees, buildings, people, objects and fragments of landscape thus become part of compositions that seem carefully studied, even when they’re the result of a completely random encounter.

There is, in fact, no intention to alter reality — on the contrary, the photographer simply recognizes something that already exists, but that often goes unnoticed. It’s the time spent observing that makes the difference: looking longer allows connections to be found between things that, at first glance, seem to have none. The photographs thus put distant elements into dialogue with one another. Natural and artificial, movement and stillness, fullness and emptiness meet within the same space, creating small balances destined to last only as long as it takes to photograph them. Right after, all it takes is for a person to move, for a car to drive off, or for the light to change, for that relationship to disappear.

A color also ties the images together: green. Present with varying intensity, sometimes obvious, sometimes nearly hidden, it recurs throughout the series like a visual thread linking different places and situations. It isn’t a narrative element and doesn’t lead toward a specific destination. It’s more of a trace, something that lets the photographs recognize one another even when everything else changes.

The silence in the title comes precisely from this way of looking; Allineamenti silenziosi doesn’t need to explain the relationships it builds: it lets the images suggest them. Every photograph seems to hold a very simple question: is it really a coincidence, or are we the ones constantly searching for connections in the things we see?

Nardulli doesn’t try to resolve this ambiguity but preserves it; his photographs don’t depict a world that is finally ordered, but rather those few instants in which we get the feeling that it is. Photographing, in this case, thus means not moving anything. It means waiting. And recognizing the precise moment when two distant things seem to meet, at least within a frame.