Don’t Be Hypnotized by the Scene: How Jonathan Jasberg Nearly Lost the Shot - Then Turned Chaos Into Beauty
(This is the story behind the photograph - a glimpse into the moment, the process, and the vision that brought it to life.)
Sometimes, less isn’t just more. It’s everything.
Too many photographers freeze when the scene feels too perfect. There’s color, movement, interesting people, great light but no clear photo. You start shooting anyway, hoping something works. You don’t slow down, you don’t think, and in the end, you have nothing. This isn’t about gear or luck. It’s about what you choose to see.
Don’t be hypnotized by the scene.
That’s the trap. It looks amazing, so you forget to simplify. You forget to decide what matters. Even experienced photographers fall into it, especially when they least expect it. And the only way out is to stop, strip it back, and make one clear choice.
This is the story of what happens when you do.
In 2020, during the height of the COVID lockdowns, Egypt’s most famous landmarks stood strangely quiet. For once, the usual waves of tourists were gone. Giza, a place where the Pyramids and the Sphinx are normally crowded with people taking selfies, had become almost silent.
Jonathan Jasberg had visited many times before while working on a project in Cairo. He knew how difficult it was to capture something fresh in such a famous spot. But on this day, something different caught his eye.
“So that one was in 2020, in Giza. The pyramids were almost completely empty of tourists because of the COVID lockdowns. I had already been to the pyramids quite a few times before this, while I was working in Cairo on a project.”
Far off in the distance, he noticed a group of men wearing white uniforms. They stood out instantly visually striking against the sandy tones of the site. Jonathan sensed something unusual was about to happen.
“It was usually hard to get anything special there because it was always the same thing… But one day I was heading there and off in the distance I saw these guys in white uniforms. And the moment I saw them, I knew something interesting was happening.”
He hurried toward the Sphinx. The men had just entered the main area the exact spot where thousands of tourist photos had been taken before. Jonathan moved quickly, watching as the men gathered in small groups and posed for photos.
“It turned out they were sailors all wearing white uniforms with little red balls on top of their hats. And I knew this was something worth paying attention to.”
From a distance, the scene was mesmerizing. But the deeper he got into photographing it, the more Jonathan began to struggle. The excitement of the moment clouded his usual way of working.
“I knew it had potential. I knew it had tons of potential, and I was super excited. I was just kind of trying to shoot everything, and at the same time, I wasn’t really getting anything at all.”
The entire scene felt overwhelming. There were too many elements, and nothing was coming together. He wasn’t slowing down and wasn’t applying the principles he normally relied on.
“I was hypnotized not by one specific person, but by the entire large scene… I realized it was just a huge mess.”
Then something shifted. Jonathan remembered a detail he had completely overlooked the anchor symbol stitched onto the sailors’ uniforms. And with that, his whole approach changed.
“Symbols are something I pay close attention to. I love symbols… And while I was there, photographing the scene, I hadn’t even considered the symbol.”
He thought back to a podcast he’d once heard about uniforms: how they erase individuality and show a person’s connection to something bigger than themselves. That idea gave new meaning to what he was seeing.
“So when I remembered that, I realized okay, I need to make this photo about that symbol. The anchor.”
Jonathan made a key decision: to block out the faces of the sailors. In doing so, he emphasized their role as part of a group, rather than as individuals.
“It strips away individuality. You become part of the larger group. Your personal identity fades into the collective.”
The shift in thinking helped him break free from the chaos. He moved in closer much closer. He began to see the scene with fresh eyes. Instead of trying to photograph everything, he stripped it down to just a few strong elements.
“The sea of uniforms… I realized it was just too much. The photograph had nothing to support it. It was just a mess. So I got in really close and framed the symbol. I made that the main character.”
With the anchor at the center, Jonathan placed just two figures in the background, their faces hidden, having their own subtle interaction. The Sphinx still appeared, slightly out of focus but clearly there an unmistakable reference to place.
“It became this anonymous sort of image that was just about the symbol of the sailor… I removed the hundreds of figures, focused on the symbol, included just the minimum supporting elements, and made sure the Sphinx was still recognizable.”
What had started as a chaotic, overwhelming moment became something precise and intentional. The resulting photograph felt stripped-down yet powerful an image about identity, anonymity, and the quiet symbolism inside a tourist landmark emptied by a global crisis.
“That was one of my biggest personal examples of realizing I had been madly working a scene and was completely overwhelmed… But once I pulled myself out of that state, those were the decisions I made.”
In the end, it was about finding order in the middle of visual noise. A reminder that the strength of a photograph often lies in what you leave out.
“I think what made it a successful photo is that you can tell it was consciously composed. The symbol is framed deliberately, and you’re only seeing the elements that are necessary to make it effective.”
