There’s something comforting and communal about the same faces bobbing up. I imagine a tight-knit crew of leathery men and women meeting in the same spot every day to watch their toned and younger counterparts dive into the crystal waters.
“People are creatures of habit, it’s just like watching people getting on and off the bus. At each spot, you have a kind of a full-time cast, with a number of characters going in and out of the scene.”
Although Robbie sees these regulars, regularly – he is cautious not to get too chummy. “Of course, I’m close with them but I also believe every good photographer should never be too involved. Being a friendly, curious dancing ghost is much better.”
I can’t put my finger on why, but I feel the urge to strike up a conversation with the people he’s caught on camera. I don’t speak a lick of Italian but for some reason with Robbie’s shots, I feel that wouldn’t really matter.
On occasion, Robbie dips away from the idyllic seaside and into the streets–snapping passionate SSC Napoli diehards, astounded newlyweds and listless locals. There is a sonic and physical force to Robbie’s photographs. In one shot, two old codgers shuck oysters and I swear I can hear the lapping of waves and screams of kids. In another, an elderly sun-ravaged husband leans lovingly into his wife. Look closely, and you can practically see her smile grow. Even though Robbie tries his best not to get too cozy with his subjects, it’s hard to think otherwise, as they all seem so at ease in his presence.
Not long ago, Robbie took pictures of a man in his seventies who was a Gran Turismo pilot turned semi-retired mechanic.
