Hello Black and White community!!!
I am back!!
This time… I bring you my last work… from today…
This set of images was created under demanding conditions and, from the very beginning, a frustrating one. I arrived at this event invited by a journalist who was already familiar with my work in cycling and triathlon and trusted my vision to cover, for the first time, a taekwondo competition. It was not a comfortable assignment, nor familiar ground. It was a real test.
I worked with a Canon 5D Mark III, a camera I know well and trust when conditions are far from ideal. I initially used the Canon 70–300mm f/4–5.6 IS USM, a logical choice for its versatility and fast autofocus. However, the reality of the venue quickly imposed itself: poor lighting, low contrast, busy backgrounds, and constant action. The light simply wasn’t there, and frustration became inevitable.
Faced with that situation, I made a conscious decision: stop prioritizing autofocus comfort and focus on what truly mattered: light. I switched to the Praktica 135mm f/2.8, a fully manual lens. This was not a nostalgic or romantic choice, but a technical one. In combat sports, if you can’t maintain high shutter speeds, there is no image worth keeping. I chose to sacrifice focusing speed rather than lose the action.
To keep noise under control without destroying the file, I capped the ISO at 3200 and worked with shutter speeds between 1/800 and 1/1200, aiming to freeze kicks, spins, and falls without killing the sense of movement. Manual focus forced me to anticipate, to read the athlete’s body, and to understand the fight before it happened. In this kind of sport, you don’t react; you need to predict.
These images are not about studio-level technical perfection. They are about honesty, tension, and respect for the physical and mental effort of combat. They are the result of adapting, making decisions under pressure, and solving problems when conditions are not in your favor.
I come from sports where I move with confidence: cycling and triathlon, disciplines I know well, where rhythm, anticipation, and body language are almost instinctive to me, and where I know I can shine. This environment, however, was different; uncharted territory, with no shortcuts or habits to rely on.
And precisely because of that, it was valuable. Stepping outside what you know forces you to lower your ego, observe more, and accept that not everything is mastered on the first attempt. This first approach to taekwondo is not about absolute control, but about real learning, and respect for a sport that demands a different reading and a different patience.
I leave this event knowing I continue to grow where I am already strong, but also with a renewed motivation to explore new paths. Because only by facing the unknown does your vision expand. And in sports photography, that is where real growth begins.
