

A cinematic photograph in a dark hotel ballroom at night. A huge crystal chandelier hangs lowered on its winch a hand above the parquet floor, and one bare work lamp stands on the floor inside it, so the only light in the room comes from below, up through the crystals. She kneels over the lamp on the parquet one metre from the camera, wiping a string of prisms with a cloth, and the light from beneath lights the underside of her jaw, her nostrils, her brows and the bottom of her wet dark auburn curls, and throws her shadow up onto the black ceiling. She wears a black cotton slip soaked dark down the front, yellow rubber gloves to the elbow, black kneepads, bare feet. The crystals hanging two metres behind her and above her are far out of focus, a field of warm bokeh discs. A tin bucket and wet cloths lie on the floor beside her. She is looking down at the prism in her hands. The top edge of the frame cuts through the chandelier. 35mm, camera at floor level, f/2, shallow depth of field, bokeh, blurry background, the wet prism in her hand and her chin sharp. Cinematic, melancholic, hyper-realistic, fine film grain. In the lower right corner, a small pencil signature: Ziggy