Red Storm

I took this photo without raising the camera to my eye, resting it against the back of a chair to avoid breaking the rhythm of the scene. The room was full — women mostly, all dressed for the occasion, voices layered like overlapping melodies, echoing off red tablecloths and gold-framed mirrors. At the centre of it, this woman in a storm of colour. Her jumper caught the light — green, crimson, black — like a weather system of yarn. I didn’t need to see her face. Her hand told the story.

The composition is crowded, intentionally so. No negative space, no clean lines, just immersion. You’re pulled into the middle of the room, as if you’ve just sat down. The column cuts the frame in two, slightly intrusive, but I left it. The image isn’t about elegance. It’s about the honest chaos of a shared meal — full tables, close voices, gestures that continue while forks are raised.

Shot in available light, the colour temperature swung toward the warm end. I left it. The reds dominate the frame, but they’re balanced by the softer wood tones and the curtain’s muted yellows. I exposed for the skin tones, keeping highlights on the face and hand of the central figure. Background detail falls away gently — recognisable shapes, not distractions.

Technically, it’s imperfect. The depth of field is shallow, the sharpness not surgical. But that helps. This isn’t a static portrait — it’s a moment caught mid-breath. A social landscape. An evening in motion.