Skull of Glass at the London Science Museum

Standing in front of this glass skull, I was struck by the tension between its physical transparency and the opacity of its meaning. Photographically, the object invites a very particular challenge — how to capture something that both reflects and refracts its surroundings while retaining a sense of sculptural form.

I approached the composition head-on, embracing the symmetry of the human face while allowing the slight distortions of the glass to play across its features. The choice of a tight crop eliminates environmental distractions, forcing the viewer into a direct confrontation with the piece. The reflections — faintly revealing the space beyond — create subtle secondary layers, adding context without overpowering the subject.

Exposure is always a concern with highly reflective surfaces, yet here the highlights are kept under control. There is enough light to reveal the varying densities of the glass, from the more translucent cranial dome to the thicker, slightly greenish jawline. The muted colour palette, leaning towards soft greys and greens, suits the clinical yet strangely human character of the object.

Technically, the depth of field is shallow enough to separate the skull from its background, but not so shallow as to lose the sculptural detail on the glass surface. The faint bokeh behind the head helps to focus the viewer’s attention where it belongs. There is a trace of noise in the darker areas, possibly due to shooting at a higher ISO to avoid using flash — a sensible choice in a museum environment where artificial lighting would have flattened the reflective subtleties.

Ultimately, this is a photograph that thrives on stillness. The subject does not demand drama; it demands clarity, patience, and a willingness to look closely. In that respect, it mirrors both the object’s role in the museum and the discipline of photography itself — to preserve the visible while hinting at the unseen.