Horizontal

I was walking past this building when I noticed how the afternoon light chiselled into the façade, pulling out volume from what is, in essence, a flat geometric rhythm. The composition demanded no embellishment — the image resolved itself into horizontal bands almost on its own. I didn’t crop for symmetry; I simply took the time to level the camera and wait for the shadows to deepen just enough to add a graphic weight.

What you see is pure form. No context, no clutter — just tone, line and light. It’s often said that black and white photography strips away distraction, but in truth, it doesn’t simplify. It sharpens. Here, the absence of colour heightens the tension between shadow and surface. You start to see nuance in the gradation, the slight texture of the concrete, and the faint imperfections that reveal scale — the embedded ceiling lights are the only real clues.

From a technical standpoint, the image holds up well. It was shot handheld, but with enough aperture to maintain clarity across the frame. The shadows weren’t lifted too much in post; I liked the drop-off into darkness. Noise is visible, but it plays to the materiality of the subject. Grain, in this context, supports rather than detracts.

This photo doesn’t narrate or provoke. It just rests — like the structure itself — in its own rhythm. Static. Repetitive. Quiet. And sometimes, that’s enough.