“On the Beach, Everyone is Stripped of Status, Class, and Pretence”

I grew up by the water. For most of my early life, the beach was just there, a kind of constant backdrop, a place of sunscreen and the dull repetition of summer. My weekends were spent on the sand, watching my brother and mother perform lifeguard duties on a beach that seemingly never saw waves.

We’d pile into my mum’s creaky hatchback, trek out to Seacliff early each Saturday morning and for a few brief hours, we’d have the entire beach to ourselves. Little by little, the locals would trickle in; retirees with overly-excited puppies, fitness couples on their mid-morning run and families looking to stake a claim on the public barbeque.

Looking back, I never really noticed the quiet theatre of it all; the bodies, the rituals, the way people seemed to shed their layers of clothing and status as soon as they stepped onto the sand. To me, it was familiar to the point of inconsequence, but to photographer Robbie McIntosh, the beach is one of life’s great stages and in his hometown of Naples, the spotlight shines brightest.

“When I started photographing, it was such a local and personal thing — just me observing life around me in Naples,” Robbie tells me. “To see those images resonate with people all over the world has been humbling. I think the themes of community, body, and belonging are universal, and that’s probably why the project found such a wide audience.”

He is, of course, referring to his 2024 debut book ‘On the Beach’. A landmark release more than a decade in the making, the photobook transformed what began as an intimate local project into an international phenomenon. The collection, shot entirely on film, is a tender portrait of Naples at its most human; full of sweat, salt, and seawater.

“I was fascinated by how central the beach is to life here; not just as a physical space, but as a stage for everyday drama, intimacy, and ritual,” Robbie explains. “Naples has this raw, unapologetic energy, and the beach is where that really comes alive. It’s public and private all at once. I wanted to capture that mix; the tenderness and chaos of people being completely themselves.”

On the Beach

For over a decade, the film photographer has been committed to that very mission. His days are spent wandering the winding cobblestone streets and twisting bottlenecks of the Southern Italian city, capturing an intimate story of humanity rarely seen from the outside.

I first stumbled across Robbie’s work last year, when images from ‘On the Beach’ trickled across my social feeds. There was something about the way he played with contrast, not only in colour but also in subject matter, that I was immediately drawn to. Bodies of all shapes and sizes, skin tones and creeds converged in one composition, creating this unique diptych of perspectives. But among all of them, one stood out.

Tutto Passa

In arguably Robbie McIntosh’s most striking photograph, an older man, perched on a plastic sunbed by the rocky seafront of the Santa Lucia district, takes in the sun. Bronzed skin shining with a leathery gold, his sunglasses balancing just atop the bridge of his nose, the Napoletano reclines back in his makeshift throne. He has spent countless summers here, in this very spot, feet fixed firmly on the rigid ground beneath. To the locals, he is somewhat of a living legend, but to the world, he is known only by the cracked, faded tattoo that stretches across his chest.

Tutto Passa. Everything passes.

It’s a philosophy I know all too well. The impermanence of life has always weighed heavy on my mind, but in this context, and in Robbie’s world of rough seas and sunburnt skin, it feels less like a commentary on mortality and more like a meditation. In his photographs, impermanence isn’t something to fear, but something to notice, and in a way, tutto passa lives inside that process.

As he tells me, a large part of his work centres on the movement of time. Capturing the human aspect of life in Naples has taught Robbie to be a conscious bystander. Working with film, as I have also found, allows him to be more present in those moments.

“There’s also a certain unpredictability — a kind of alchemy — that happens with film. The grain, the light, the texture… they all carry emotion in a way digital rarely does. It feels more human.”

“When you know you have a limited number of frames, you become hyper-aware of the moment. You listen, you observe, you wait. It’s not about chasing perfection; it’s about feeling when something real is happening. That tension between anticipation and restraint is what I love most about working with film.”

Finding Connection

Vibrant and full of life, Robbie’s work eschews the drab and dreary imagery that so often characterises documentary-style photography. He shoots scenes of day drinking locals with sun-kissed skin, glistening against the jagged rocks of Ventotene, of children caught between the wonder of youth and complexity of adolescence, but above all else, he captures the very essence of Neapolitan life.

“Naples taught me that belonging isn’t about ownership, it’s about participation,” he says. “The city invites you in but never lets you remain an observer. You have to give something of yourself to be accepted. That exchange, between chaos and warmth, distance and closeness, has deeply shaped how I think about home.”

That’s not to say Robbie is immune to the same rigours that all street photographers face. He still grapples with the delicate balance between documenting and intruding, but when you see what he is able to capture, it’s clear that he’s broken through. There is an openness to Robbie’s images that just feels intimate, almost disarming.

“It’s all about respect and sensitivity,” he tells me. “I spend a lot of time just being there before taking a picture — letting people get used to my presence. I try to [take] photographs with people, not of them. When trust builds, the images become more authentic. You can feel when someone gives you permission, even silently.”

Capturing Real Life

While much of his work involves a recurring cast of characters, locations and scenes, there are always surprises. One of the most unexpected came during the shooting of his debut book, when Robbie inadvertently found himself caught in the first evangelical baptism to take place on the beach.

“It was a powerful scene; a mix of spirituality, emotion, and the everyday rhythm of Neapolitan life,” he explains. “Families were swimming, kids were playing, and just a few metres away, people were being baptised in the sea. That contrast; the sacred and the ordinary coexisting so naturally, really moved me. It reminded me how the beach in Naples is a place where everything happens: joy, faith, chaos, and beauty, all at once.”

When I ask why he feels compelled to document that convergence, his answer is refreshingly simple; Because that’s real life.

“The beach is one of the few places where everyone is stripped of status, class, and pretence,” he explains. “Bodies tell stories; of age, experience, joy, and struggle. Photographing them honestly, without judgment, is a way of celebrating that diversity. I wanted to create images where people could see themselves reflected with dignity.”

“I hope [when someone sees my images] they feel a sense of recognition; that quiet spark of seeing something honest and human,” he continues. “Maybe even a tenderness for people they don’t know. Ultimately, I want my images to remind viewers that beauty exists in imperfection and that every body, every moment, has worth.”

Beauty in the Mundane

There is a great skill, I think, in making someone nostalgic for a place they’ve never been and a time they’ve never had, but that’s precisely what I see in Robbie’s photos. I often find myself thinking about those Neapolitan beaches; the noise and laughter, the chaos and charm that invariably lives in every composition. As he rightly points out, it’s messy and unkempt, but that’s real life.

What he’s really showing us is that true beauty is found not in vanity metrics, but in vulnerability. When you strip away status and pretence, you are free to just be yourself. In that sense, the beach, his stage and once mine, is life’s great equaliser; it’s merely his job to open your eyes to that.

“Sometimes an outside lens can make people notice the beauty in what they take for granted,” he continues. “When locals see these images and recognise their own world as something poetic or powerful, it can shift perspective. It’s not about exoticising Naples, but about holding up a mirror that says, look how extraordinary this ordinary life is.”

Robbie McIntosh is a photographer who lives and works in Naples. His work is carried out exclusively on film, on small and medium format. In 2024, he published his first book, “On The Beach”, the result of in-depth work on people going to the public beaches in Naples (and beyond), started in 2012 and still (and perpetually) in progress.