Mick Hartley

From photographer Marcella Hackbardt’s series “True Confessionals”:

Santo Spirito, Florence, 2015.

Basilica di Santa Sabina all’Aventino, Rome, 2014.

Basilica di San Marco, Florence, 2015.

San Simpliciano, Milan, 2015.

Duomo, Parma, 2015.

San Pietro, Parma, 2015.

The confessional is a special place in any Catholic Church, but in Marcella Hackbardt’s series “True Confessionals,” it takes on a distinct significance. Centered in their frames and largely shown in churches empty of people, Hackbardt’s confessionals strike viewers not as merely one feature among many in the architecture of faith, but as a theatrical space that services some fundamental human need—one that possibly transcends any particular religious dogma. As Hackbardt sees them, they’re “a powerful metaphor for self-perception and the examination of conscience.”

For someone brought up in the less intrusive and more relaxed practices of the Anglican church, the whole business of going to confession always struck me as decidedly unBritish. The relation between a chap and his conscience is, frankly, no one else's damn business – particularly not some ghastly unctuous man dressed up in gowns and silly hats, who is clearly having considerable problems with the whole business of celibacy anyway. Unpleasant echoes of Maoist self-criticism sessions and all that, too. Either you're honest – which would be humiliating and pathetic - or you lie – which encourages the kind of hypocrisy which is at the heart of so much Catholicism.

Still, nice pics…