Rosalie Thomas in the Quiet Before the Flashlights

An afternoon at the Bayerischer Hof, just hours before the Deutscher Filmball. Outside, Munich moves as always; inside, everything slows down.

Actress Rosalie Thomass sits wrapped in a white robe, soft light falling through the curtains. The room is calm. Lipstick, a quiet exchange, fabric settling into place — small gestures that mark the shift from private to public. The anticipation is there, but it’s subtle.

Later, dressed in black and white silk and tulle, she stands in the long corridor of the hotel. Clear lines, deep shadows, a composed presence. The setting feels almost cinematic, yet nothing is forced. A look replaces the earlier smile; posture changes, energy sharpens.

In these hours before a gala, details matter. The cut of a jacket, the texture of a cuff, the weight of a skirt. Even the room key on the table becomes part of the narrative — a reminder of the quiet space before stepping out.

What interests me most is this transition. Not the red carpet itself, but the moment just before. The gathering of focus. The breath taken before the door opens.

I’m grateful for the trust to witness and capture these in-between moments — honest, understated, and very much alive — just before the night begins.