Red Curtains

It caught me as I was leaving a small trattoria, the kind where wine glasses reflect years of conversation and meals stretch long into the evening. The curtain—the protagonist here—isn’t just a physical separator. It’s a thin veil between what’s public and what should remain private.

I let the fabric dominate the composition. Its translucent quality distorts the background just enough to suggest, not show. The folds create a rhythm, a vertical cadence against the more chaotic, lived-in blur of the interior. The exposure was tricky. Balancing the warmth of incandescent lighting with the saturation of the red was key—push too far, and the tones bleed; underexpose, and the shadows turn flat. I erred on the side of boldness, letting the reds flood the frame.

This image is not clean, and that’s the point. Grain, softness, uneven lighting—they all add to the sense of intrusion. It’s voyeuristic, but not malicious. It pauses at the threshold, refusing to cross. It lets the curtain speak for itself.