Allora

This June, we turn our gaze outward through the lens of photographer David Kitz and his beautiful illustrated book Allora with a reflection on the quiet poetry of an Italian summer. The word allora carries no single definition. Loosely translated, it suggests “so,” “then,” or “well” but more than meaning, it carries mood. It’s a pause, a breath, a hinge between thoughts. A gentle invitation to linger.

In his book, photographer David Kitz gathers his own thoughts through the quiet act of observation. Based in California but long captivated by the rhythms of Italy, Kitz offers a study of the in-between: between traveller and local, postcard and moment, dream and documentation. His work unfolds as a diaristic collection of photographic vignettes, forming a fragmented but tender portrait of Italian summer.

There is beauty here, but not in the obvious. Allora resists the performance of tourism and instead turns toward its minor chords, plastic chairs sun-bleached to abstraction, bathers lost in their own reverie, signage faded into poetry. There is a sense of distance, sometimes humour, always affection.

The result is a love letter not just to a country, but to the act of seeing and of giving oneself fully to a place, not to possess it but to be momentarily possessed by it. Like its namesake, the book holds space rather than fills it. It is a study in looking slowly, living lightly, and letting meaning unfold without demand. Allora, in the end, becomes its own kind of travel a passage through time, memory, and mood. Not a guidebook, but a gesture.

PHOTOS: David Kitz (IG: @davidkitz)
WORDS: Jay Vosoghi