I was in southern Lebanon for the duration of the 2006 war. One day, I was in Tyre and saw a column of people fleeing their villages. This mother and child were in the back seat of a car. I ran over, knelt down, and took shots through the window. Then they were gone. Even though there was no time for proper contact, it was a moment that sometimes happens in photography. It goes beyond words: somehow you feel and touch something or somebody.
For me, it's important that a picture does not just depict an incident. Apart from simply being a mother and child, this shot also speaks of a condition: what it's like to be a refugee. The little girl's gaze goes past us and beyond.
In my conflict photography, I try to get as close as possible and, once you're there, it's difficult to stay back. There is always the desire to witness and inform. I try to be careful, but either you do something or you don't; my choice so far has been to go places.
A few days after this, I had an incredibly lucky escape. A missile, probably from a drone, killed a man in Tyre, in a targeted assassination. I happened to be close by and, just as I got there, a second missile hit. I'm alive because of the angle of the impact, though I still got a bit in my face and head, most of the shrapnel blew away from me. You can factor in danger all you want, but you never get used to things like that.
Curriculum vitae
Born: Rome, 1964.
Studied: "I studied architecture in Rome and took a course in photography. But I'm essentially self-taught."
Inspirations: "Gil Perez, Josef Koudelka, Eugene Richards. Film-makers, too – Tarkovsky, for sure."
Pet hate: "In general, I embrace digital photography as an evolution of the medium, but I dislike the ease with which it can be manipulated. When you deal with charged issues, like people in war, you need to be able to trust the photographer."
Dream subject: "To be in a cave with Osama bin Laden for a couple of hours."