Behind Glass: Masks, Reflections, Gender Roles – An Artistic Pandemic Tapestry

The photograph, taken in January 2021 during the first lockdown in Berlin-Moabit, at first glance shows a shop window with a mannequin wearing a face mask. Yet behind the layers of reflections, glimmers, and overlaps lies an image that reaches far beyond a mere snapshot of the pandemic. It condenses into a symbol of societal conditions.

In the foreground stands the mannequin with sleekly combed hair. The cloth mask she wears gives the figure an unexpected vitality and at the same time something ominous: tightly bound around her mouth, it seems as if she cannot take a breath. Surrounding her, further signs of the era converge: the inscription “Opening Hours,” inevitably reminding of the shifting lockdowns; masks hanging on a line, reminiscent of freshly laundered laundry; another mannequin in the background, its head appearing almost severed by reflections; and finally, a fashion poster evoking an idealized normality. Everything overlaps, nothing can be clearly separated. A web of symbolism emerges.

This artistic tapestry gathers an iconography of the pandemic: the mask as a symbol of protection and constraint, the glass as a barrier between inside and outside, the inscriptions as a constant reminder of regulations and closures. The mannequin itself becomes a symbol of society: motionless, passive, stripped of expression, with a vacant gaze, both humanized and dehumanized. The reflections intensify the sense of a world shown only in layers and fragments – chaotic, overwhelming, removed.

On a second glance, another layer emerges: all the figures in this image are female, and none has a complete face. Visible yet unrecognisable, present yet stripped of individuality. The fragmentation of their faces reflects a divided, torn existence that only becomes fully comprehensible when considering their actions and the burdens they carry.

During the pandemic, it was primarily women who bore the invisible weight: homeschooling, caregiving, double burdens. Many worked in essential yet poorly paid professions – in retail, childcare, and healthcare. They kept society running while their contributions received little recognition in public discourse. Added to this were rising domestic violence, increasing psychological strain, and the heightened difficulty of balancing work, childcare, and household duties. Women were visible in their deeds, yet invisible in their burden – crushed simultaneously by social, professional, and private pressures.

Thus, the photograph becomes more than a mere snapshot of Berlin’s streets during lockdown. It reveals how the crisis reinforced traditional gender roles, how women remained visibly present yet invisible in the work they actually carried out. Behind glass, amid the myriad reflections and fragments of their image, they become part of a fractured reality in this photograph.