Windows XVIII … Century
This photograph came from an unplanned encounter while wandering through the corridors of a fading building in via del Governo Vecchio — the sort of place where time has done more than simply pass; it has settled in, quietly shaping every surface. The pane of glass here isn’t modern, nor mass-produced. Its circular impressions are the handiwork of an 18th-century glassmaker, each bubble imperfect, each one carrying the slight distortion of a craft long past.
The Leica M9, with its full-frame CCD sensor, brought something special to the scene. That sensor has a way of rendering colour and micro-contrast that feels almost film-like, which was ideal for this subject. The muted tones of weathered metal, dusty glass, and the faint green just beyond the broken section needed that kind of subtlety. I framed the shot head-on to respect the geometry of the pane, letting the repetition of the circles form the backbone of the image, while the break — raw and unplanned — interrupts the rhythm, pulling the viewer’s gaze outward.
Shooting with the M9 in such low light is not without its challenges. Its higher ISO range is limited by today’s standards, so I worked with a steady hand, slower shutter, and a lens wide open to gather just enough light. Metering was done for the highlights on the glass surface; that way, I could preserve the soft sheen of the glass without losing texture in overexposure. The background through the break was left out of focus intentionally, using depth of field to make it more of a suggestion than a clear view — a hint of the world beyond, not its full disclosure.
What I value most in the final frame is how the M9 handled the tonal transitions. The subtle gradations in the glass, the fine grit clinging to the circles, the way the metal frame’s corrosion shifts in hue — all of these details are rendered with an honesty that digital sensors often sterilise.
The title, “Windows XVIII… Century”, is a playful nod to modern software naming habits, but the photograph is really about persistence. This window is both a relic and a survivor, still functioning, still marking the boundary between inside and out — even if the outside has begun to push back through its fracture. The M9 simply allowed me to honour that story with the right balance of precision and restraint.
