A REMINISCENCE OF LOOKING THROUGH A VIEWFINDER

Mihail, 2012 / Sevlievo, Bulgaria

It is one of those portraits that carries more than just a face. For a long time, it lay hidden, half-forgotten, like a relic pressed between the pages of memory. I first shared it years ago, in another blog that has since vanished, and even then, I sensed there was more to it. It was taken in 2012 on a Pinhole Day in Sevlievo, Bulgaria, when I looked at Mihail through the dim square of the Kiev viewfinder. In that fragile frame, he seemed less a friend than a vision, a figure chiselled by Michelangelo, luminous and still, suspended in a cathedral’s cool silence. At the time, Rome and Florence were distant, unreachable dreams, too costly for us to touch.
I recall my restless attempts to capture the moment: fumbling with angles, struggling with light, and experiencing a small panic of not getting it right, as I was using 3200 ISO analogue film with not much experience. There was no studio light, no light meter, only a big window with natural light coming through. And yet he stood there, calm, patient, quietly enduring my clumsy orchestration.
Now, when I return to the portrait, it speaks in new voices, offering new layers of meaning. What I find most precious is not only his likeness but the nostalgia it awakens – that Sevlievo afternoon, simple and weightless, sincere as friendship, tender as the hush of a Saturday slowly unfolding.

September 2025, Sofia