-
Cleaning the Tabernacle
-
Deadly Bored
Once again, the meaning of this picture is counter intuitive and “made up” by the composition. The scene is seen from the perspective of the mannequin: at the end of a hard day spent sitting on the street-front, it (or he?) looks deadly bored and tries to kill the time before the shop closes by casually looking at the next passerby. The directional effect (from the mannequin to the passerby) is achieved by the diagonal connecting the tip of the hat, the feet of the mannequin and the cast of the shadow. Taken as a whole, these elements drive the eye from the mannequin to the persons and not vice-versa.
-
The Silent Ceremony
-
Mistress Of Puppets
I titled this one Mistress of Puppets. A nod, of course, to the Metallica anthem where the master pulls the strings, controls the fate of others—merciless, mechanical, in charge. But in this frame, the dynamic is flipped. The puppet isn’t controlled. She’s in control. Shot through a shop window, the mannequin doesn’t stand, she sits—curled into herself in an oddly introspective pose. Not a gesture of command, but of knowing. Dressed in soft florals, faceless but not neutral. The glass between us acts like a screen, a membrane, a boundary between worlds—hers synthetic, silent, and oddly powerful; ours fast, distracted, and easily led. Because really, who’s manipulating whom? She doesn’t speak.…
-
The Sorcerer’s Shop
Walking past the narrow streets that night, I was struck by the oddly theatrical composition this small shop presented. “La Bottega delle Streghe” — The Sorcerer’s Shop — proclaimed the sign above, and there in the doorway hung a single jacket, swaying faintly in the evening air. Through the open door, the frame split into two narratives: the interior, softly lit and cluttered with fabric and objects; and beyond it, the alleyway, dimly illuminated, with a car just visible in the background. The framing here is deliberate — the doorway acts as both literal and visual threshold. The viewer is pulled in, suspended between the world outside and whatever spells…
-
A Special Dress for a Special Party
At night in Stockholm, when shop windows become small stages and the city quiets enough, interiors to speak outward. The mannequin stands alone, dressed in white, suspended between the street and the room behind it. There is no reflection of passers-by, no movement intruding — only the slow, deliberate stillness of fabric and objects. The dress is light, almost ceremonial, while the surrounding space is heavy with material: stacked books, dark wood, layered garments, textured rugs. The shop feels less like a retail space than a private archive, somewhere between wardrobe and memory.
-
Sales Force
There’s an odd tension in this photograph — one that pulls you in before you’ve even had time to work out why. On the surface, it’s a straightforward shop-window scene: mannequins in carefully styled outfits, lit with that clinical precision that retail chains excel at. Yet the longer you look, the more unsettling it becomes. The composition is tight, almost regimented, with the mannequins arranged in military formation. Their identical, expressionless faces create a chorus of stillness, reinforced by the repetition of hair colour, pose, and stance. The red “ALDI” sign in the foreground slices into the frame with an almost aggressive verticality, its bold typography competing for attention with…
-
Should I Buy It? (Best Taken With an 85mm)
…but actually with a 23mm (35mm equivalent, cropped.) It’s not just a shopping street. It’s a stage. Look closer: this frame holds a silent performance — a subtle interplay of desire, decision, and doubt. Three women stand just outside the warmth of the boutique, their eyes fixed on mannequins who, ironically, seem far more confident than the living observers. The mannequin inside strikes a bold pose, clad in red and certainty. The women outside? Bundled in coats, their body language somewhere between ambivalence and negotiation. On the far left, another kind of window. A glowing child’s fantasy, plastered with Disney’s “Frozen” — a reminder of simpler times, when wanting something…
-
Belgian Hats
-
Belgian Gloves
There’s a certain satisfaction in encountering a composition that seems to have arranged itself for the camera, as though the visual world conspired to present its colours and forms in perfect order. Belgian Gloves offers just that: a tight row of leather gloves, each perched on a mannequin hand, marching in a perfect gradient from cool blues through greens, yellows, oranges, and finally deep reds. It is at once commercial display and chromatic study. From a compositional perspective, the image benefits enormously from its frontal, symmetrical framing. By positioning the gloves parallel to the camera, the photographer creates a sense of order that invites the eye to travel along the…
-
Behind a Shop Window in Oslo
This was one of those scenes that unfolded on its own terms. No decisive moment, no split-second drama—just a man behind glass, cleaning or adjusting or both, surrounded by faceless mannequins and the awkward geometry of retail preparation. I raised the Nikon 35 TI and pressed the shutter before overthinking it. Shot through the shop window, the glass worked both against me and with me. It introduced layers—literal and symbolic. Reflections were minimal but present, just enough to remind us we’re on the outside looking in. The man is inside a constructed world, arranging it, tidying its surfaces for consumption. The mannequins—blank-eyed children—stand frozen, already staged, while he works between…
You May Also Like
Before The Match
Coffee Doesn’t Need a Table. It Needs a Moment
Seeking Directions
-
The Hamlet’s Dilemma
-
The New Church
In the XXIth Century, a new church grows, to satisfy old needs.
-
A Fashion Shop in Milan
In a fashion shop is always hard to tell the difference beween a model and a store clerk.
-
A Little Of Thailand In Rome
Walking through Rome, it’s always the unexpected juxtapositions that stop me in my tracks. This small corner, framed by a weathered marble wall on one side and the muted sheen of a modern doorway on the other, holds a Thai welcome — a statue draped in marigold garlands, hands pressed together in the wai greeting, a silent gesture of hospitality transplanted far from its native home. From a compositional standpoint, I went for a straightforward, vertical framing to preserve the integrity of the statue’s posture. The side table in the lower right, with its offering of flowers and folded leaf packages, gives a cultural context that anchors the image. The…
-
A party that shall never come
A dress and a bag waiting to be sold. Will the party ever take place?
You May Also Like
Coffee Doesn’t Need a Table. It Needs a Moment
Lady Gaga Art Rave
Evolution in Red
