Waiting for (Supreme) Justice

I took this while waiting, quietly, in Rome’s Corte di Cassazione—a place where silence isn’t just expected, it’s structural. Every arch, bench, and cornice feels designed to mute the outside world. What struck me wasn’t the grandeur (although the sculptural work is unapologetically ornate), but the emptiness. For all the architectural posturing, justice here is often a matter of waiting.

The benches, scuffed and rigid, are the only human-scale elements in the frame. They sit below a frieze of muscular allegories and baroque pomp, a reminder of the institutional weight bearing down on the people beneath. The image is composed to reflect this—foreground arch framing the frieze, a horizontal band of marble cutting through, visually dividing authority from those who endure it.

Technically, it’s a controlled shot. Natural light pours in from the right, soft but directional, illuminating the sculptural details without washing them out. Highlights are held in check. The midtones are where the emotion lies—in the worn stone, the wooden benches, the faint shadow of the railing. No harsh contrast, no exaggerated tonal range. This image needed to feel patient.

This isn’t a dramatic scene. It’s a pause. The kind that stretches long enough for your back to ache and your thoughts to spiral. And still, the verdict waits.