For this eleventh episode of CC Stories, we explore the suspended moments offered by naps. Summer often becomes a chance to reconnect with slower, gentler rhythms—ones that invite daydreaming and rest. These pauses take form in the quiet time of napping, no longer reserved solely for children. Ciro Battiloro, Issei Suda, Katrin Koenning, and Deanna Dikeman have captured these daytime rests—on couches, beds, and armchairs—with eyes fully closed or just gently shut. But naps can also be drawn and read, as Orfeo Tagiuri playfully shows us.
Often thought of as the domain of children, the nap, in fact, belongs to everyone. It creates a suspended moment—a step aside from the world—where those who share it enter a universe entirely their own. Katrin Koenning (left) captures two sleeping figures on a beach: a child and their mother, resting together under the sun.
For Ciro Battiloro (right), moments of napping reveal the nature of relationships without the need for words. “In the picture, Elena, the eldest of four sisters, watches over Anna during her nap. I like this image because Elena seems, on one hand, to have the care of a mother, and on the other, the carefree spirit of play.”
Observing someone during their nap is like letting them slip away. For two years, Issei Suda photographed his family using a Minox camera—a tiny device famously used by spies. In Family Diary, he invites us into their daily life, captured with humour—and his daughter’s nap is not spared. Yet this image holds a certain mystery. While tenderness surrounds the little girl asleep, she remains elusive and keeps us at a distance, immersed in a world we’re not invited to join.
For Ciro Battiloro, the bed, the cradle, and the sofa are the most intimate places in the home. When people sleep, they no longer care about what surrounds them. They are entirely themselves, mysteriously connected to their deeper self. It is a moment of calm, a release, where one lets go almost in spite of oneself. In the photo on the right, “Samba is with Eliane his ex-girlfriend, they had an intense and not easy love story, here they enjoy a moment of rest and peace.”
For her part, Deanna Dikeman finds her mother asleep in the living room armchair after a busy Christmas Day: ” I quietly took this photograph. My mother always worked hard to make the day special for us, starting with breakfast, Christmas presents, and a turkey dinner with relatives invited too. She deserved a little nap.”
The nap has no rules, no schedule, no fixed place, no obligations — and that’s likely what makes it so delightful. As Orfeo Tagiuri humorously illustrates, it’s always bedtime somewhere in the world: the sleeping bodies of nap lovers are in sync with a time zone where others are already at rest. A nap is a moment, but also a place, one of comfort and safety, often hard to leave because it simply feels too good to stay.
Sometimes sleep doesn’t come, the mind too awake, or not tired enough. The nap then takes on a different form, becoming a moment of quiet rest, a pause conducive to reading, daydreaming, or simply drifting. Some stare at the ceiling, others let their thoughts wander, serious or silly, while some dive into a book or a newspaper.
Katrin Koenning captures one of these latent moments: her friend, lying on his bed, skims through the day’s news. He escapes the nap, yet shares in the silence of those around him who have surrendered to sleep.
Humans aren’t the only ones who enjoy nap time: animals, too, have their moments of rest. Drawn to comfort, they like to curl up and tuck themselves into small, quiet corners to fall asleep. Issei Suda’s dog, on the other hand, stretches out fully on the terrace, trying to catch a bit of cool air during the long summer days.
Allowing someone to take a nap and making them comfortable is a bit like becoming the guardian of a place you cannot enter yourself, but one you dream of too. Deanna Dikeman tells us that this photo was taken during her first car trip with her baby.” I was a tired new mother, and my hope was that we would both nap in the back seat as we rode home from visiting my parents.”
In Relative Moments, she offers us an intimate and tender family album. This photo echoes that spirit, capturing the way softness gently envelops sleeping bodies.
