Cesar: Christian Berthelot's Photos of Babies Seconds After Birth

Crying newborn streaked with blood, held up by gloved hands in a dark operating room as the umbilical cord is clamped

Cesar (also written Caesar) is a series of portraits by the French photographer Christian Berthelot showing babies in the first seconds of life, photographed in the operating room immediately after a caesarean delivery. Each picture is titled with the baby's first name, date and time of birth, weight and age in seconds, from 3 to 18 seconds old. The babies are still streaked with blood and vernix, crying, reaching out, and lit dramatically against a dark background, so they look less like the tidy newborn photos people are used to and more like figures in a classical painting.

The project grew out of Berthelot's own experience. His wife had an emergency caesarean that he credits with saving her and their son, and the strangeness of watching from the parents' side of the surgical screen stayed with him. He went on to photograph some 40 caesarean births, after months of preparation and with the consent of the clinic and each mother. The series was shown at the Circulation(s) festival of young European photography in Paris in early 2015, where it drew both admiration and discomfort. Below are the portraits with what we know about each one, followed by the story of how they were made.

How Berthelot made the photographs

Berthelot did not walk into a delivery room with a camera on a whim. About a week after his son's birth, he met an obstetrician working at the same hospital, and some months later the doctor suggested a photo series about midwifery in the operating room. Berthelot then spent around six months learning how to work inside a surgical environment, where sterility, space and timing are tightly controlled.

He asked permission from the clinic and from the mothers, and each participating mother was offered a print of her baby's portrait. Speaking to Slate, he recalled that during a caesarean “the parents do not see what is happening on the other side of the operative field.” His pictures show exactly that hidden side.

Over time he narrowed the project. He had set out to document the whole birth team, but he found that the newborns themselves, in their first moments, held the strongest artistic potential, so the finished series focuses on them alone.

The portraits: the first seconds

The captions below keep Berthelot's own data for each image: name, date and time of birth (European format), weight and the number of seconds of life when the shutter clicked.

Romane, 8 seconds old, crying with arms outstretched as masked surgical staff hold her up in the dark

Romane – born 20/05/2014, 10h51, 2kg 935 – 8 seconds of life

Romane is the most recent birth in this selection, photographed in May 2014. Her arms are flung wide, a reflex newborns often show when startled, and the gloved hands holding her almost disappear into the black background. The pose gives the portrait the quality of a dramatic stage entrance.

Kevin, 13 seconds old, blood on his head, held up as forceps clamp his coiled umbilical cord

Kevin – born 27/12/2013, 10h36, 4kg 366 – 13 seconds of life

At more than 4.3 kilograms, Kevin is the heaviest baby in the series. The forceps clamping his coiled umbilical cord are a reminder that each portrait was taken in the middle of real surgical work. He was born two days after Christmas 2013, one of several December babies in the set.

Louann, 14 seconds old, blood-streaked and frowning, lifted by a masked surgeon in a blue cap

Louann – born 12/04/2013, 8h40, 3kg 574 – 14 seconds of life

Louann, born in April 2013, is among the earliest portraits in the project. Her frown and the masked surgeon in a blue cap above her show the contrast Berthelot was after: a tiny, furious new person framed by the calm, anonymous professionals who delivered her.

Steven, 15 seconds old, crying with one arm raised while masked staff hold him and tend the cord

Steven – born 21/12/2013, 16h31, 2kg 425 – 15 seconds of life

Steven is crying with one arm raised while staff tend to his cord. His afternoon birth time is a small detail that shows how the photographer had to be ready whenever a scheduled or urgent caesarean happened, not just at convenient hours.

Léanne, 13 seconds old, crying with fingers spread as a gloved hand clamps the umbilical cord

Léanne – born 08/04/2014, 8h31, 1kg 745 – 13 seconds of life

Léanne is the smallest baby in this selection, weighing under 1.8 kilograms. Her spread fingers and open mouth are captured in sharp detail. Her portrait shows that the series includes very small newborns as well as robust ones, without commentary on why each birth was a caesarean.

Lize, 9 seconds old, face streaked with blood, held up with the umbilical cord curving beside her

Lize – born 24/12/2013, 8h49, 3kg 574 – 9 seconds of life

Lize was born on Christmas Eve 2013 and photographed just nine seconds later. The curve of the umbilical cord beside her face is one of the strongest graphic elements in the series. By coincidence, she weighed exactly the same as Louann.

Liza, 3 seconds old, lit in warm red light between two masked surgeons as the cord is clamped

Liza – born 26/02/2013, 8h45, 3kg 200 – 3 seconds of life

At three seconds old, Liza is the youngest subject in the series. The warm red light and the two masked surgeons on either side make this one of the most painterly images, and February 2013 places it among the first births Berthelot photographed for the project.

Maël, 18 seconds old, crying with mouth wide open, held up in a single spotlight against black

Maël – born 13/12/2013, 16h52, 2kg 800 – 18 seconds of life

Maël, photographed at 18 seconds, is held up in a single beam of light against complete darkness, mouth wide open in his first cry. The image is close to a pure studio portrait, which is why it is often chosen to represent the whole project.

Photo credits: Christian Berthelot.

Why the images divide viewers

Most newborn photography is made days later, with a clean, sleeping baby wrapped in soft fabric. Cesar deliberately goes the other way. Berthelot has said he wanted to show the violence of birth, the shock of being pulled from a warm, dark, quiet place into light, air and noise.

Reactions were mixed. Berthelot told Slate that some people found the images disgusting and said he had no right to show newborns covered in blood, while others insisted the pictures must be fake. Many more were simply fascinated. His wife backed the project from the start, describing caesarean birth as beautiful.

There is also a strong art-historical echo. The dark backgrounds and single light sources recall chiaroscuro painting, where figures emerge from shadow. Seen that way, the blood and vernix are not shock tactics but part of an honest record of how every human life begins.

What you are actually seeing in the pictures

The white, creamy substance on many of the babies is vernix caseosa, a natural coating that protects the skin in the womb. The blood comes mostly from the surgical incision and the delivery itself, not from injury to the baby. The clamped cords and gloved hands are routine steps in the first moments after any caesarean.

None of this makes the series a comparison of birth methods. It does not argue for or against caesarean delivery, and the photographs say nothing about how any particular mother or baby fared afterwards. They capture a very specific moment, from a viewpoint that parents behind the surgical screen usually never get.

Where the series was shown

Cesar was exhibited at the 2015 edition of Circulation(s), a Paris festival for emerging European photographers held at Le Centquatre arts centre from late January to early March 2015. Slate's Behold photography blog featured the series on 1 January 2015, which helped it travel widely online. Berthelot's portfolio, including other personal and commissioned work, is on his own website.

Sources: Slate, Behold: Christian Berthelot's Caesar; Christian Berthelot, photographer; Festival Circulation(s); Spirit, Science and Metaphysics.

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