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 them like a stagehand before the curtain rises.

Technically, the 35 TI’s meter handled the exposure well. The contrast needed a slight bump in post, mostly to counteract the softness from the glass and ambient lighting. Framing was intuitive—I wanted the man off-centre, counterweighted by the ladder and mannequins. The diagonal lean of the ladder draws the eye in, breaking the symmetry in a space that otherwise suggests control and order.

Focus is sharp where it needs to be, slightly shallow but not soft. I didn’t want clinical clarity. I wanted the slight tension of looking through—observing without disrupting. Black and white suited the scene far better than colour ever could. Stripped of hues, the artificiality of the display becomes more pronounced.

This isn’t performance; it’s preparation. And that, to me, was the story worth capturing.