Last weekend, I took a trip to the British Museum. I’ve been there a few times before, but this visit was a bit different. Instead of trying to rush through and see everything, I decided to focus on something more specific—faces. There’s something fascinating about faces, especially when they’re sculpted, molded, or carved from different eras and cultures. So, I spent the day wandering through the museum, photographing as many of these sculpted faces as I could find. It turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and surprising visits I’ve ever had.
It might sound odd at first—going to a museum full of incredible artifacts and focusing on just one thing. But faces have this universal appeal. No matter where you’re from or when you lived, a face can tell a story. Expressions, styles, even the materials used to create them—it all says something about the person or culture they represent. So with my camera ready, I started exploring.
My first stop was the Egyptian Sculpture Gallery. It’s hard not to feel a sense of awe when you’re standing in front of statues that are thousands of years old. The sheer size and presence of these pieces are enough to blow your mind. I found myself snapping a lot of pictures of the face of Ramses II, this massive, serene face carved in stone. His expression, though worn by time, had this calm authority, as if he knew he’d be remembered for centuries.
What struck me most about the Egyptian faces was the balance between power and serenity. Whether it was a pharaoh or a deity, the faces seemed timeless, as if they were meant to be viewed with reverence and respect forever.
Next up were the Greek and Roman galleries, where the faces took on a different quality. The Greeks, of course, are famous for their idealized beauty, and you can see why when you’re up close. I spent a good while photographing the heads of gods and heroes. One of my favourite statues was of a marble head of Aphrodite—her expression was soft and graceful, capturing that perfect blend of divinity and humanity.
But what really intrigued me were the Roman portraits. Unlike the Greeks, who went for idealized perfection, the Romans embraced realism. I found myself drawn to the bust of Emperor Augustus. His face was so lifelike, down to the sharp nose and slightly pursed lips, almost as if he could speak to you. I snapped a close-up shot, trying to capture that intensity. It’s funny how a marble face from thousands of years ago can feel so modern and real.
By the end of the day, I had taken what felt like a hundred photos, each one capturing a face from a different era or culture. What I loved most about this little project was how it gave me a new way to look at the museum. Instead of getting overwhelmed by all the exhibits, focusing on just one theme—faces—made the whole experience more personal and engaging.
Every face I photographed told a story—about power, beauty, divinity, or even just everyday life. It reminded me that no matter how much time has passed or how different these cultures were, there’s something universal about the human face. It’s a way of connecting across time and space, seeing the world through the eyes of those who lived centuries before us.
So, if you ever find yourself at the British Museum (or any museum, really), I recommend picking a theme—whether it’s faces, hands, or something else—and just see where it takes you. You might be surprised at how much you’ll discover when you slow down and really look.
