Half-a-Room 1967

Yoko d'Holbachie's photograph, *Half-a-Room*, offers us a grayscale snapshot of an interior, or rather, half of one. I’m drawn to the monochrome palette, a sea of whites, off-whites, and grays, which feels so deliberate, like choosing to paint with only one color. It’s as if she’s trying to distill the essence of the room, the bare minimum needed to evoke a feeling. I love that the surface of the image is filled with different textures. The rough surface of the walls, the smooth sheen of the painted furniture, the soft, organic forms of the flowers. It's like a tactile map of the room’s emotional landscape. I’m particularly struck by the placement of the figure in the centre of the space and the chair in the bottom right, like a conversation between the personal and the impersonal, or the lived and the observed. In some ways, d'Holbachie's photograph reminds me of a quiet Morandi still life: they both use the language of simple forms and muted tones to express something profound about the human condition. In the end, it’s about embracing the in-between spaces and allowing for multiple readings.