Woman in Delvina, Albania (1913)

Instead, there is one woman.

Wrapped in layers of dark clothing, she stands on rough ground carrying her belongings and a large traditional object across her back. A heavy patterned bag hangs in front of her body. Her head is covered, and one hand rises toward her face, giving the scene an extraordinary sense of fatigue, thought and quiet emotion.

We do not know her name.

Boissonnas did not leave us a biography explaining who she was, where she was travelling or what had happened moments before the photograph was taken. That absence is important. She survives in history not as a celebrated individual, but as one of countless ordinary women whose labour sustained families and communities.

The year 1913 gives the image additional weight.

Boissonnas and Baud-Bovy were travelling through the region during the Balkan Wars, and their photographs became visual records of communities living through a period in which borders, governments and political identities were rapidly changing. A surviving collection of Boissonnas photographs from the journey includes views of Delvinë as well as its inhabitants.

Yet the woman herself does not appear concerned with politics.

Her world seems much more immediate.

There is the weight she carries.

The road beneath her feet.

The clothing protecting her from the elements.

And whatever destination still waits ahead.

That is what makes the image so emotionally powerful.

Her bent posture suggests hardship, but she remains standing. The objects she carries may look heavy, yet they also represent responsibility—perhaps possessions, tools of daily life or things necessary for the household she supports.

The drawing you have transforms Boissonnas’s documentary image into something almost monumental. By removing colour and emphasizing the lines of the woman’s clothing, hands, shoes and belongings, the scene begins to resemble an engraving from another century.

Every wrinkle becomes part of the story.

Every fold of fabric suggests movement and years of use.

The rough landscape around her reinforces the impression that life was demanding, but the woman herself does not appear defeated. She continues forward.

For an art collection, the work can therefore represent much more than a historical portrait of Delvinë.

It can represent the strength of Albanian women, the invisible labour of previous generations and the endurance required to carry a family through uncertain times.

More than a century later, we may never know the woman’s name.

But Boissonnas’s photograph ensured that, for one moment in Delvinë in 1913, she was seen.

And that simple act of preservation turns an anonymous traveller into a lasting symbol of dignity, resilience and memory.