A Pensive Nun

I took this photo during a quiet moment in a Roman church. I wasn’t looking for drama. I wasn’t even looking for a nun. I was watching light — soft, diffused, the kind that reveals more than it conceals. Then she shifted her weight, her arm fell to the bench, and the composition drew itself.

The image balances solitude and collective presence. She sits in isolation, yet she’s surrounded. Everyone in that frame is turned inward — praying, grieving, thinking, hiding. It’s an ensemble of introspection, and she anchors it without knowing.

I shot this on film. Ilford HP5 pushed to 1600. The grain works with the silence; it has a tactile grit that suits the rough stone floor and unfinished gestures. Compositionally, I kept it wide. I needed the pews to stretch, to lead the eye through the layers. The handrail, the papers on the bench, even the shadow on the floor — they all pull toward her.

This isn’t a photo about religion. It’s about pause. About presence without performance. The way the fabric of her veil catches the ambient light — no bounce, no modifiers — creates a soft counterpoint to the otherwise dark tonality.

Technically, it’s not flawless. The depth of field is thinner than ideal, the highlights on the paper slightly blown. But I wouldn’t change them. They’re part of the honesty of the scene. And this was never meant to be polished.