Castel di Tora and lake Turano
Castel di Tora sits on a rocky spur above Lake Turano in the province of Rieti, central Lazio — one of those places in Italy that exists entirely outside the tourist circuit. No coach parties. No gift shops. Just narrow medieval alleys, old stone houses, and one of the most beautiful and unspoiled lakes in the country spread out below.
I visited during my years living in Rome, drawn by the combination of medieval architecture and the lake. It is the kind of place you arrive at and immediately understand why people have been building on that spur since the 11th century. The position is almost impregnable — a natural fortress above the water, the mountains closing in on all sides.
The Castle and the Village
The castle dates to the 11th century, originally built by Benedictine monks and later used to defend the village during the conflicts of the Middle Ages. It is in ruins now, but the walls and towers are still standing with enough presence to give you a clear sense of what it once was. The Church of Santa Maria Assunta, dating to the 13th century, is the other anchor of the village — frescoes still visible inside, a building that has outlasted everything around it.
The narrow alleys and old houses of Castel di Tora have a particular quality of light. The stone is pale and warm, the streets tight enough that the sun only reaches the ground for a few hours a day. For black and white photography it is ideal — deep shadow, hard light, ancient surfaces.
Lake Turano and the Drowned Valley
Lake Turano is not a natural lake. It was created in the 1930s when the Turano Dam was built, flooding the valley below. When the water rose, it submerged the original medieval village of Castel di Tora along with several other settlements — their remains still visible beneath the surface in dry years when the water level drops.
Above the lake, just visible from Castel di Tora, is Antuni — a ghost town abandoned after being bombed by the Germans during the Second World War and never rebuilt. The village sits empty on the hillside, its medieval streets and buildings frozen in time. It is not accessible. The road is gone and the site is closed — except for one day each year when it opens for a medieval parade, the village briefly coming back to life before falling silent again. I never managed to be there on that day. It remains one of those places I know exists but have never been able to reach — which somehow makes it more present in the mind.
For a photographer and someone who has always been fascinated by the layers of Italian history — Etruscan, Roman, medieval, modern all compressed into the same landscape — this part of Lazio is remarkable. The drowned village beneath the lake, the ghost town on the hill, the medieval castle on the spur above it all. History here is not preserved behind glass. It is just there, weathering.
These images form part of my ongoing personal documentary project — black and white architecture, landscape, and street photography from Italy, the UK, and beyond. Based in Sandwich, Kent, I work as a portrait and documentary photographer across the UK, London, and internationally. If you would like to discuss a commission or follow the documentary work, visit the Personal Observations gallery or get in touch directly.
Visceral, character-led portraits from honest, quiet human moments. Classical legacy portraiture for private commissions. International, UK, London, based in Sandwich, Kent.
