And Justice For All

This shot came together in complete silence — the kind of silence that only certain institutional buildings can generate. The kind made of marble, fluorescent light, and tension. I didn’t stage a thing; the geometry was already waiting for me. One man in the foreground, half-shielded by a paper, lines converging to a trio sitting far in the distance — it all felt like a scene rehearsed for a stage I just happened to walk onto.

Compositionally, this image relies heavily on symmetry and recession. The central aisle, vanishing neatly into the background, draws the eye from the bold human presence up front to the barely-noticed figures in the rear — like time compressing into a bureaucratic funnel. I let the frame breathe with negative space, resisting the temptation to crop tighter. What mattered was the void as much as the people.

Shot handheld, the light wasn’t ideal — but not unworkable. It’s a classic case of fluorescent overheads leaving faces flat and slightly spectral. In black and white, though, that cold, institutional light becomes an asset rather than a hindrance. The contrast had to be carefully managed to retain detail in both suits and paper, while not losing the texture of the tiles or the columns’ curve.

This wasn’t about drama. It was about routine — and the strange choreography it performs when no one’s watching.