The Eye Behind the Iconic Sarah Pidgeon Shot: Inside Dragos Sora’s World

There’s a quiet intentionality to the way Dragos Sora moves through the world, one that translates seamlessly into his work. I’ve been personally following his journey for some time now, drawn to the way he captures what others might overlook: the in-between moments, the raw light, the feeling before the frame fully forms. His approach is rooted in observation rather than control. There’s a sense, when looking at his work, that this is only the beginning, and that something much bigger is unfolding. It’s why he’s been on my manifestation board for a while now: the kind of creative I hope to one day collaborate with closely, perhaps even on a future cover.

From photographing high-profile moments like his now-iconic shot of Sarah Pidgeon at the Loewe AW26 show in Paris to capturing quiet, emotionally charged scenes across fashion, lifestyle, and automotive, Sora’s work carries a distinct balance of presence and instinct. Whether he’s drawn to “culturally rich environments with real stories” or moments that feel important to preserve beyond the present, his photography is guided by an intuitive sensitivity that, as he puts it, “comes mainly from personality, you can’t really fake that long term.” Based between Milan and Bucharest, and shaped by a background in fashion design at Nuova Accademia di Belle Arti, his perspective sits at the intersection of structure and intuition; where aesthetics meet emotion. In an industry often driven by perfection and performance, his approach feels refreshingly grounded: a reminder that the most powerful images aren’t constructed, but felt.

Now, he answers some of the questions we’ve been dying to ask.

1. You describe your work as capturing “real moments and raw light”, how much of that reflects who you are as a person, beyond photography?

   
   

I’m naturally drawn to things that feel honest and real, whether that’s people, places or moments. I don’t like forcing things, neither in life nor in photography. The  way I shoot is pretty much the same way I experience everything around me: observing, waiting and letting things unfold naturally rather than controlling them.

2. What kind of environment or moment makes you feel the most present, both as a photographer and as a person?

   
   

I feel most present in environments that are culturally rich and authentic—places with character and real stories behind them. I’m also deeply drawn to nature. At the same time, certain events or moments carry a different kind of weight—the ones that feel important to preserve, not just visually, but as references for the future. Those are the moments that make me pay attention and truly be there, both as a photographer and as a person.

3. Growing up, what first shaped your eye? Was there a moment, place, or person that made you see the world differently? 

   
   

I think we’re born with a certain sensitivity to things, depending on who we are. Over time, we just learn how to express it better—for me, through photography. There wasn’t one defining moment, but rather a mix of places, people, and artists that shaped how I see and express the world.

4. You studied fashion design before fully stepping into photography, was that a calculated decision, or did photography find you naturally along the way?

   
   

It started quite naturally rather than as a calculated decision. I initially pursued a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design, as that was my main focus at the time. During university, I needed to photograph my projects, and that’s when I began taking photography more seriously, until I realized I genuinely enjoyed it.

I had always been drawn to photography growing up, but only casually. Things really started to take shape during my time in Milan. Moving there exposed me to a completely different environment, and I felt the urge to document everything around me—from the city itself to my passion for automotive culture. Milan, and Northern Italy in general, is an incredible place for that world, and it played a big role in how my photography evolved.

5. Your work often captures “in-between moments”, do you think that sensitivity comes from your personality or from experience?

   
   

I think it comes mainly from personality. Photography, in the long run, is a reflection of who you are, and you can’t really fake that long term. That sensitivity to in-between moments is, for me, very instinctive.

At the same time, experience helps you understand it better and express it more clearly. But I believe it’s important to first understand yourself and stay authentic, rather than trying to imitate others you admire. With time, that’s how you begin to create something that feels truly personal and meaningful.

6. What’s something people don’t see behind your work, the reality of your day-to-day life as a photographer?

   
   

I think what people don’t see is that what I share online is probably 1% of everything I shoot. There are a lot of failed attempts behind every image that works.

Another challenging part is developing the vision to recognize when a photo is truly good, and then finding the right context for it. Sometimes an image can be strong, but if it doesn’t have the right moment or platform, it might never be seen.

It’s also a job that requires a strong cultural awareness within the field. Beyond the technical side, I believe a good photographer really understands what they’re doing, what they’re capturing, and what they want to communicate. That part is less visible, but it’s essential.

7. You’ve worked with global brands and high-profile environments, has success changed the way you see yourself or your work?

   
   

No, I wouldn’t say it’s changed me. If anything, it’s more of a validation. It reassures you that you’re on the right path and gives you a bit of momentum to keep going.

At the same time, I still feel like I’m at the very beginning of my journey. I have a long way ahead and a lot to learn. I can see myself evolving constantly, even from one week to another, both in how I shoot and how I present my work.

But I also feel quite far from where I want to be, and that’s what keeps me motivated.

8. Living in Milan & traveling constantly, where do you feel most like yourself, and why?

   
   

At the moment, I feel most like myself when I’m traveling—especially when I arrive in places that feel authentic, with strong traditions and people who seem untouched by the rush of modern life.

I also feel very connected when I’m surrounded by nature or animals. There’s something about those environments that brings a sense of clarity and balance, and that’s when I feel the most like myself.

9. What inspires you outside of photography, music, films, people, or even moments in everyday life?

   
   

I find inspiration in almost anything: places, people, artists, everyday moments. I try to stay open and absorb as much as I can, and that’s something I also bring into my photography—I shoot whatever genuinely catches my attention.

At the same time, I look a lot at classic photographers I deeply admire, like Elliott Erwitt and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Their way of seeing and capturing moments continues to influence how I think about photography.

10. If you had to describe your current chapter in life in one image; not a photo you’ve taken, but a feeling, what would it look like?

    
    

It would feel like a child on the second day of school, still a bit nervous, but more aware than the first day. You’ve met people, but you don’t yet know who will become important in your life.

There’s a sense of excitement about what’s ahead, mixed with uncertainty, but in a good way. You’re curious, open, and hopeful that things will keep getting better.

11. What advice would you give to someone who wants to do what you do?

    
    

I think the most important thing is to understand your purpose and truly believe in yourself, no matter where you are in life. Self-confidence is essential—it doesn’t have to be loud or visible, but it has to be real. You need to trust that you can achieve what you want, and then work consistently towards it for years. There’s no shortcut—just patience and constant effort.