Inside the Misteri di Trapani

My connection with the Misteri di Trapani began in 2014.
At the time, my son and I were looking for a new photographic adventure. We had heard about an extraordinary religious procession that took place each Easter in the Sicilian port city of Trapani, but beyond that we knew very little. There was no grand plan, no long-term project and certainly no expectation that it would become a part of my life for more than a decade.
We simply booked our flights and went to see it for ourselves and like many of the best photographic journeys, it began with curiosity.
We arrived as two photographers, father and son, carrying cameras and an open mind. The intention was straightforward: explore the city, immerse ourselves in the atmosphere and make photographs. What we found was something far richer than either of us had anticipated.
The city seemed to move to a different rhythm. Churches filled with activity as preparations gathered pace. Bands rehearsed in narrow streets. Families and friends came together in anticipation of the days ahead. Everywhere there was a sense of history, tradition and belonging.
Along the way we met local people who welcomed us with warmth and generosity. Through chance encounters and introductions we were given glimpses behind the scenes of an event that had been part of Trapani’s identity for centuries. What began as a simple discovery trip quickly became something much more personal.
Most importantly, we made photographs that excited us not because they were technically perfect, but because they captured something real. There was emotion, atmosphere and a sense of connection that is often difficult to explain but instantly recognisable when it appears in your viewfinder.


A City Transformed
Although the Misteri di Trapani begins at 2pm on Good Friday and continues until approximately 2pm on Saturday, my experience of the Misteri always begins much earlier. Over the years I have learned that some of the most rewarding moments take place long before the first of the sacred groups emerges from the church and begins its journey through the streets of Trapani.
Whenever possible, I arrive at least a day before the procession. The city is already changing. As Easter approaches, there is a growing sense of anticipation that becomes impossible to ignore. Inside the churches, final preparations are underway as the sacred groups are checked and prepared for the long hours ahead. Musicians gather for rehearsals, volunteers move quietly between tasks, and families begin to spend more time in the streets, aware that one of the most important events in the city’s calendar is almost upon them.
For a photographer, these hours are invaluable. The pace is slower and there is time to observe without the intensity of the crowds that will soon fill every corner of the historic centre. Conversations happen naturally and people are often curious about why you have travelled to Trapani to photograph their tradition. Those conversations frequently become the foundation for photographs made later in the week. When people have seen you before, when they understand that your interest extends beyond simply turning up to take pictures, a different kind of relationship begins to develop.
When I first arrived in 2014 with my son, I knew almost nothing about the Misteri beyond what I had read before travelling. We spent our time exploring the city, photographing whatever caught our attention and trying to understand what made this centuries-old tradition so important to the people of Trapani. Through a mixture of chance encounters, introductions and the generosity of local people, doors gradually began to open. What started as a simple discovery trip evolved into friendships that have now lasted more than a decade.
Today I am fortunate to know many of the people who dedicate enormous amounts of their time and energy to preserving the Misteri. Among them are Giovanni D’Alì, President of the Unione Maestranze, photographer Sergio Cancelliere, whose portrait studio has long been part of the city’s photographic life, and Arturo Safina, a passionate supporter of the tradition whose friendship, encouragement and knowledge have helped me enormously over the years. Through people like these, I have come to appreciate that the Misteri is far more than a procession. The statues, the music, the ceremony and the spectacle are undeniably impressive, but they are only the visible expression of something much deeper.
What continues to bring me back to Trapani is not simply the event itself, but the extraordinary sense of community that surrounds it. Every year I witness people giving their time, sharing their knowledge and working together to preserve a tradition that has been handed down through generations. The procession may last for twenty-four hours, but the commitment, pride and sense of belonging that sustain it are present throughout the year. It is this human story, as much as the religious and cultural significance of the Misteri, that has kept me returning with my camera for more than a decade.


Behind the Church Doors
For most visitors, the Misteri di Trapani begins when the first of the sacred groups emerges into the sunlight on Good Friday afternoon. In reality, the procession begins long before that moment.
The preparation starts days, and in some cases weeks, before the event itself. Inside the churches, there is a constant sense of activity as volunteers, craftsmen and members of the various confraternities work together to prepare the sacred groups for their journey through the city. Every detail matters. Decorations are checked, flowers are arranged and countless small tasks are completed, often with little fanfare but with enormous pride.
One of the most beautiful stages of the preparation is watching the fresh flowers being added to the groups. The colour and fragrance bring a sense of life to the sculptures and transform them from historic objects into something that feels ready to take its place once again at the heart of the city. The arrangements are carefully considered and form an important part of the visual identity of the procession.
As the day approaches, the long wooden carrying poles are passed through the bases of the groups, ready for the men who will shoulder the weight for the next twenty-four hours. There is something striking about these poles. Worn smooth through decades of use, they carry the marks of countless processions and generations of bearers who have carried the sacred groups through the streets of Trapani before them. They are practical objects, yet they also feel like a physical connection to the history of the Misteri itself.
The groups, some of which date back centuries, are remarkable to see at close quarters. Their age is evident in the surfaces, the craftsmanship and the details that reveal the passage of time. Yet they are far from museum pieces. They are living parts of a living tradition, carefully maintained and restored whenever necessary so that they can continue their annual journey through the city. Standing beside them in the quiet of the church, before the crowds arrive and before the music begins, it is impossible not to feel the weight of history that surrounds them.
These are some of my favourite moments to photograph. The atmosphere is calm and unhurried, and there is an intimacy that disappears once the procession starts. The focus is not on spectacle but on preparation, dedication and continuity. It is here, behind the church doors, that you begin to understand how much work, care and devotion lies behind a tradition that lasts just twenty-four hours but has endured for more than four hundred years.




Twenty Photographs Return Home
In 2025, that long relationship with Trapani reached an unexpected milestone when twenty of my photographs were selected for a large-scale outdoor exhibition in the city itself. Displayed throughout the historic centre, the images returned to the streets where they had been made over the previous decade.
For me, it was one of the most rewarding moments of the entire project. The photographs no longer felt like my photographs. They had become part of a shared story between photographer, city and community.
Read the full story behind the exhibition in Twenty Photographs Return Home: An Exhibition in Trapani.

When the Doors Open
s the final preparations are completed and the church fills with anticipation, there comes a moment when everyone knows that the waiting is over.
Shortly before 2pm on Good Friday, the atmosphere changes. The conversations become quieter, people take their places and attention turns towards the great doors of the church. Outside, the streets are already packed with spectators waiting for the first appearance of the sacred groups. Inside, there is a growing sense of expectation that is difficult to describe until you have experienced it for yourself.
Then the doors are opened.
Sunlight floods into the church and illuminates the first of the groups waiting in the shadows. After hours of preparation, and weeks of planning before that, the procession is finally ready to begin.
Being inside the church at this moment is an extraordinary privilege and one that very few photographers experience. Through the relationships I have built over many years, I have been fortunate to receive access that allows me to witness these scenes from within rather than from the street outside. It is one of the moments I look forward to most each year because it reveals a side of the Misteri that many visitors never see.
The first band begins to play and the opening group slowly moves forward. There is nothing hurried about its departure. The movement is measured and deliberate, accompanied by music that has the character of a funeral march. As the group emerges from the darkness of the church into the bright Sicilian afternoon, the contrast is both visual and emotional. The crowd falls silent for a moment before the procession begins its long journey through the city.
I often follow the first group as it leaves the church and turns into the narrow streets of Trapani. The transition from the quiet interior to the energy of the crowd creates endless photographic opportunities. The concentration of the bearers, the emotion on their faces, the reactions of those watching and the changing relationship between the group and the city all become part of the story unfolding around you.
As one group moves away, another band assembles behind it. Then another group follows. Then another band. Throughout the afternoon and into the evening, the pattern continues. Twenty sacred groups and twenty bands gradually emerge from the church, each accompanied by its own music, its own followers and its own atmosphere. Together they form one of the most remarkable religious processions in Europe, a moving river of faith, tradition and community that will continue through the day, throughout the night and well into the following afternoon.



Following the Procession
By early evening the atmosphere begins to change. The intensity of the afternoon gives way to a slower rhythm as the procession continues its journey through the streets of Trapani. After hours of photographing, I will often spend some time with friends in one of the local restaurants before preparing for what, for me, is one of the most rewarding parts of the entire event.
Before first light the following morning, the city begins to stir once again.
As sunrise approaches, the bands assemble and the music returns to the streets. The soft light of sunrise brings an entirely different atmosphere to the procession. The crowds are smaller, the pace feels calmer and there is a sense that both the city and the participants have settled into the long journey that began the previous afternoon.
I usually make my way towards the rear of the procession, where the final group, the Virgin Mary, is making its progress through the city. From there I begin to work my way through the event, moving between the sacred groups, the bands and the people who have gathered to witness the procession. After so many years, I have learned that there is no single way to photograph the Misteri di Trapani. Each year reveals something different.
Sometimes I will spend an hour or more concentrating on faces, using a longer lens to isolate moments of emotion, concentration or quiet reflection. At other times I return to my 35mm lens and focus on the relationships between people, looking for the layers, interactions and fleeting moments that reveal something about life beyond the procession itself. The streets, balconies and pavements become part of the story, creating a rich backdrop against which the event unfolds.
As the day progresses, my attention is often drawn towards the people who make the Misteri possible. The experienced bearers who have carried the groups for many years, the older members of families who have dedicated much of their lives to the tradition, and the individuals whose faces tell stories that cannot be found in any guidebook. While the sacred groups are undoubtedly impressive, it is often these human moments that remain with me long after the photographs have been made.
Eventually, after twenty-four hours on the streets of Trapani, the procession approaches its conclusion. By mid-afternoon on Saturday, the final group, the Virgin Mary, returns to the church. Before entering, a reading is delivered by a senior member of the Catholic community. The crowd falls silent. Thousands of people stand listening as the final chapter of the procession unfolds before them.
It is a deeply moving moment.
As the Virgin Mary finally returns to the church, the emotions that have been held in check throughout the previous day begin to surface. For many of the bearers, musicians and volunteers, the Misteri is not simply an event. It is a shared experience built upon faith, friendship, tradition and commitment. Having spent the last twenty-four hours together, carrying the groups through the city and preserving a tradition that stretches back centuries, there is an unmistakable sense of relief, pride and camaraderie as the procession comes to an end.
Some embrace. Others quietly reflect. Many simply stand and watch as the doors close behind the final group.
These are often the moments that stay with me most.
As photographers, it is easy to become caught up in the spectacle of an event such as the Misteri. The music, the crowds and the extraordinary visual theatre unfolding around us can be overwhelming. Yet over the years I have come to realise that my role is not simply to experience the event, but to bear witness to it. To observe carefully, to recognise the significance of small moments as well as grand ones, and to create photographs that preserve not only what happened, but what it felt like to be there.
That, for me, is what documentary photography has always been about.
In 2025, that long relationship with Trapani reached an unexpected milestone when twenty of my photographs were selected for a large-scale outdoor exhibition in the city itself. Displayed throughout the historic centre, the images returned to the streets where they had been made over the previous decade. For me, it was one of the most rewarding moments of the entire project. The photographs no longer felt like my photographs. They had become part of a shared story between photographer, city and community.













Returning to Trapani
Thirteen years after that first visit with my son, I still find myself returning each Easter, camera in hand, curious to see what new stories the streets of Trapani might reveal. The faces may change, another generation may take its place within the procession, but the spirit of the Misteri endures. More than a decade on, it continues to draw me back, just as powerfully as it did on that first journey in 2014


A few usefull resources
Mark Seymour U Tube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3p76gbxNPI&t=1s
About The Misteri Wikipedia https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Processione_dei_Misteri_di_Trapani
A previous blog on the procession https://www.markseymourphotography.co.uk/journal/misteri-di-trapani/
Instagram. How I made the image https://www.instagram.com/reels/DXFBTrDgjXR/




