Stantsted Lounge’s Chairs

I took this photo just after the final boarding call echoed through the terminal, the kind of stillness that only follows a rush. The lounge was cleared in minutes — all urgency gone, replaced by silence. The chairs, once wrapped in the inertia of travel, now stood like architectural punctuation against the faux-wood paneling, waiting for the next wave of restless travellers.

I framed the shot at a low angle, intentionally compressing the line of stools to push a rhythm into the scene — one repetition after the other. It’s a simple structure, but the legs of the stools, criss-crossing over each other, create a mesh of shadow geometry on the wooden floor. The leading lines do the work: they pull the eye toward the vanishing point, echoing the terminal’s own promise of departure.

Technically, this is about restraint. I exposed for the mid-tones, letting the black absorb detail without drowning it. Highlights from the under-bar lighting keep the back wall alive, preventing the image from slipping into a murky blur. The floor’s reflection adds subtle contrast to the otherwise rigid linearity — it’s quiet, but deliberate.

Minimalist in subject, maximalist in form: that was the aim. A study in symmetry, repetition, and the absence of movement — the kind of moment airports rarely offer.