Sistine Chapel Wedding Present. September 2025
Jeremy Houghton and his wife, Sophia, were invited to the Vatican by the Pontifical Swiss Guard shortly after their wedding at their home in the Cotswolds.
What followed was not announced in advance. They were received at the Swiss Guard barracks and led through the Vatican – moving quietly through a sequence of spaces: the Cortile del Belvedere, the ascent towards the papal apartments, and along the long colonnaded corridors that structure the inner workings of the Vatican. The route was deliberate, though its purpose was not immediately clear.
Only on arriving outside the Sala Regia – a space closely associated with papal ceremony – did the nature of the moment begin to register. From there, they were guided through the Portone della Sacrestia, and into the Sistine Chapel.

The chapel was empty, and theirs to experience alone.
To encounter it in this state – without movement, without sound, without the presence of others – was to experience it differently. Removed from its usual context, the space became less about spectacle and more about structure, time, and continuity. It is a place that carries the weight of decision and succession, but in that moment, it existed in complete stillness.
Earlier that day, they had witnessed the swearing-in ceremony of the Swiss Guard – a ritual that marks the continuation of a commitment made over centuries. Standing later in the Sistine Chapel, that sense of continuity felt immediate rather than historical: something held in place through repetition, discipline, and presence.

The visit continued with access to the papal apartments. Moving through these spaces – ordinarily unseen – offered a further understanding of the Vatican not as a symbol, but as a functioning environment shaped by routine, structure, and responsibility.
Such moments are rare, but they are not an end in themselves. What they offer is a particular vantage point – an opportunity to observe how these spaces are inhabited and sustained. It is within this quiet access, rather than the spectacle often associated with them, that the work begins.