Art collection

This image is from the series “End of an Age” by British photographer Paul Graham (b. 1956, Stafford, UK). In the late 1990s Graham photographed young people on the verge of adulthood in Zurich’s nightlife scene. For a few fleeting hours, in the various venues of the local subculture, it seemed as though the city belonged to them. “#39” shows a young woman in the nebulous red-tinged light of some nightclub or other, eyes closed introspectively as though totally immersed in her own thoughts. The image tells us little about the place. This brief glimpse into the life of a young person bears more authenticity by far than any carefully staged portrait. Yet the series is not just about the end of one particular stage in life, but also about the end of the millennium in Zurich. “End of an Age” shows an almost exclusively white populace. With his outsider’s view, honed in the nightlife of London, Graham was able to recognize that Zurich stood on the threshold of change. Today, we know that he was right. Zurich has become more diverse.

Hannah is a teenager from the small town of State College, Pennsylvania, also known as Happy Valley. Charming as the name may sound, the look on the face of this young woman suggests that, even in such a supposedly idyllic place, things are not always quite as they seem. Eva O’Leary (*1989, Chicago, US), winner of the Vontobel Contemporary Photography Prize A New Gaze 2, photographed Hannah gazing at her own reflection, through a two-way mirror of the kind we may know from detective films. Hannah appears vulnerable and insecure – in contrast to the confident youngsters we see posing for advertising campaigns or social media selfies. It is this clash of realities that O’Leary explores in her series Concealer. Having grown up in Happy Valley herself, she knows full well the social pressures of small-town America when it comes to fulfilling the beauty ideals of the advertising industry, and she shows that there are anxieties lurking behind even the most perfect mask.

There is something uncanny about photographs. Capturing individual moments for all eternity, they make time stand still. Thus, the happy, smiling young faces we see are those of people who are actually very old. This whole phenomenon becomes even more complex in the work of the young Austrian photographer Simon Lehner (b. 1996, Wels, AT). He has created a 3D rendering computed based on some fifty separate photographs of his father taken by Lehner when he was just nine years old. Within the digital realm, this renders the father tangible, but by no means more approachable. In this way, the photograph mirrors the yearning for a father figure. Despite his physical presence, the father seems to be light years away. Aptly, the title of the series to which this work belongs is “How far is a light year?” It is the question that the then nine-year-old photographer asked himself, full of a child’s curiosity, on seeing his father for the first time.

Fine feathers make fine birds, as the saying goes. This photograph, taken at a street intersection in Cotonou, Benin, seems to illustrate that perfectly. The matching shirt and pants worn by the central figure are typical of Benin. The drum he is holding is a djembe, from which this work by Swiss photographer Flurina Rothenberger (b. 1977, Männedorf, CH) takes its title. She has focused for decades on the African continent, which is her second home, having grown up in Côte d’Ivoire. Small wonder that much of her focus is on the theme of identity, in which clothes do indeed play a major role. From the yellow chador to the blue helmet to the pale green sandals, the Africans wearing these clothes have chosen them consciously and care for them well. For the clothes themselves incorporate a kind of almost spiritual mindset. And so, for the photographer, this intersection has become a fascinating fashion show, which, here in West Africa, is always also a political statement.

What shapes our identity? Religion, nationality, skin color? For artist Kelvin Haizel (b. 1987, Accra, GH) identity does not emanate from a single root, but from an ever-expanding rhizomatic web. And so our identity expands with each encounter. In search of such encounters, the winner of the Vontobel Contemporary Photography Prize “A New Gaze 2” traveled to the Comoros Islands, a politically divided archipelago in the Indian Ocean. In 1996, a tragic plane crash off the island of Grand Comore claimed 125 lives. Until repatriation, the bodies were held in a coldroom that had, until then, been an important storage facility for the mainly fishing-reliant island. Haizel found a dead baby shark on the beach and took it with him to the former coldroom, which is now used as a cultural center, for a performance commemorating the event. The anonymity of the figure invites the viewer to a contemplative self-immersion within the image, thus becoming part of the encounter.

#blackbeauty – South African visual activist Zanele Muholi (b. 1972, Umlazi, ZA) often presents their photographs with this hashtag. Their body of work “Somnyama Ngonyama” is all about Black skin, about racism and the reappropriation of Black identity. The title of the series translates as “Hail, the Dark Lioness.” In over ninety self-portraits Muholi, using striking props and make-up, reflects on the history of Black people, on visual colonialism and Black beauty. Their self-portraits contain numerous historical references and are, as such, deeply political. This image is part of the artists homage to their mother, Bester, who spent her life as a domestic worker in white South African households. Muholi specifically describes themself as a visual activist and first became known with their portrait series of members of the LGBTQIA+ community in South Africa. In that series, too, their aim was both to give those individuals identities and to empower them.

Cacti are prickly and really belong to the wide expanses of the prairie, associated with cowboys and freedom. But that is little more than a romantic notion. Because even cacti have been industrially harnessed. Hundreds of them, row upon row, can be seen here in the middle of the desert in Borrego Springs, California. Humans cultivate plants, as God did on the third day of Creation. And indeed, The Third Day is the title of the photo series this image belongs to. The places that photographer Henrik Spohler (b. 1965, Bremen, DE) documents reveal the mechanization of globalized industry with all its contradictions. The cactus nursery is at once both utopian and dystopian. On the one hand there is the consumer paradise in which plants and foodstuffs are constantly available, while on the other hand there is the desert that humankind seeks to conquer, at the cost of constantly sinking groundwater levels. It is uncertain how long this can continue unabated in the face of climate change.

Every morning we are faced with the same dilemma: what to wear? The truth is that, however rational and practical we may be, our clothing is our armor for daily life. It either shields us from unwelcome glances or attracts the attention we seek. We are judged and assessed by our clothes, expressing our personality through our choices. For years German photographer Albrecht Tübke (b. 1971, Leipzig, DE) has documented these public manifestations of identity in the streets of San Francisco, London, and Florence. Thousands of faces, outfits, and people passed by him – some made it into his photographs. In these images each person’s appearance speaks entirely for itself; Tübke never embeds his “personas” in recognizable contexts; on the contrary, they always stand in front of an unremarkable wall, be it concrete or brick or stone. And it is only when we see them in these reduced settings that we can suddenly appreciate the wealth of individuality that usually gets lost in the turmoil of the city.

Plants look green to us human beings, but they don’t necessarily look like that to non-human species. Insects, for instance, also see ultraviolet light. And since most plants want to attract insects, their blooms reflect UV light particularly well. In this photograph by Richard Mosse (b. 1980, Kilkenny, IR) it is as if we are the insects: we are plunged into an alien, eerily wondrous world that is all about illusion and survival. Eat or be eaten. Venus flytraps lie in wait for prey and a praying mantis is on the lookout in the upper left of the image. Mosse is known for his photographs from war zones, and in all his work he takes advantage of the latest visualization technologies, such as thermal imaging cameras, which are mainly associated with armed combat and scientific research. In this image he turns his attention to the battlefield of insects and plants, and – with the light from a UV flashlight – reveals a habitat that is more than ever endangered by human beings.

White, sterile, futuristic shapes: that’s how the future looks in our imaginations. The future on an alien planet, because anything that looks “futuristic” generally has something to do with space travel. And this is the aesthetic that French photographer Vincent Fournier (b. 1979, Ougadougou, BF) has developed in his series “Space Project” (ongoing since 2007). This aesthetic not only tells us something about space travel, it also hints at the hopes that are invested in it. Fournier photographs objects and places that informed that aesthetic in the early years of space travel in the 1960s. He has documented items such as astronauts’ helmets and the control room from which Apollo 8 was launched into space – the first mission to leave Earth’s orbit. This photograph shows part of the anechoic test chamber at the Institut supérieur de l’aéronautique et de l’espace in Toulouse. Utter a word here and you will not even hear the slightest hint of an echo – as if the sound were instantly lost in the endless realms of outer space.

There are few people who are not amazed by the power of technology at some time or another. We use it not only to tame nature but also to mimic it. For instance, scientists can create flashes of artificial lightning between these two copper spheres. This photograph was taken in the high voltage laboratory at the Technical University of Denmark. As if he were an actor on a stage, the scientist – Joachim Holbøll – stands on the machine gazing up at the “spark gap”, as they call the space between the two conductors where the lightning is generated. The supporting structure frames Holbøll like one half of a red curtain. The unique aesthetic in this picture is the work of British photographer Alastair Philip Wiper (b. 1980, Hamburg, DE). His series “Unintended Beauty” took him to industrial and scientific sites across the world where he photographed some of the most spectacular machinery anywhere. Wiper sees the aesthetics of these machines and mechanisms as a reflection of our own hopes for the future.

Taming a tangle of cables is far from simple. However, they are bundled together, they look untidy. It is not easy to work out what this arrangement of cables is used for. But one thing is for certain: every possible effort has been made to ward off chaos and to create order by means of clips and cable ties. American photographer Daniel Everett (b. 1980, Hudson, Ohio, US) has created a body of work – “Marker” – that is focused on this frantic striving for order, which he sees as typical of modernity. He seeks it out in major cities across the world, uncovering attempts to control the urban environment – and then digitally manipulating his photographs. By adding certain elements and omitting others, he interferes with carefully controlled systems. He breathes new chaos into these images, because in his eyes order is a symbol of a sterile world bereft of life, bereft of human beings, and bereft of freedom.

American artist Louise Parker (*1989, Saint Paul, Minnesota, US) has regularly taken to the catwalk as a professional model for brands such as Chanel. However, as a professional photographer she dissects images that have been made of her. For the series Pieces of Me she cut up fashion photographs of herself and created collages using components from different sources. Parker thus reclaims her own identity and her ownership of images of herself. Having finished a collage, she then photographs it—thereby producing a self-portrait by a particularly circuitous route. By detaching the components of a collage from their original context, Parker breaks free from the alien gaze of the photographer. Her works can thus be seen as an act of self-liberation by a model whose body is regarded by fashion photographers as a useful tool rather than as part of a human being.

As a child, if you had an inflatable lifebuoy, you were the envy of all the other kids at the pool or beach. Indeed, it might even be said that the lifebuoy is like a symbol of carefree childhood. The usual stereotypical images of such an idyll, however, depict only kids who have white, western parents. Photographer duo Jalan and Jibril Durimel (b. 1993, Paris, FR) show that, in reality, there is, of course, also such a thing as a Black bourgeoisie. The twins, with roots in the French Antilles, grew up in the USA and the Caribbean. They studied film in Los Angeles before turning to photography. Initially working as fashion photographers, they eventually began to embrace photography as an art form. Their works are strongly influenced by the pictorialism of the early twentieth century, which was the genesis of art photography. They photograph idyllic moments in the lives of Black people.

There tends to be something of the uncanny about caves. They often elicit a sense of irrational fear and fascination. Perhaps it is because caves are formed over thousands of years. For Swiss artist Maya Rochat (b. 1985, Morges, CH) caves such as these are perfect symbols of a world in constant flux. Rivers carve out rocks, mountains grow, and lakes evaporate. Rochat applies these processes of gradual, inexorable physical change to her own works. She calls this “sedimentation”: photographs are altered by photochemical processes, overpainted, illuminated with colored lighting, and re-photographed. It is an endless process that is never really completed. Each work is just a temporary state. In this way, the artist confronts us with experimental works that attract our gaze and encapsulate the inconstancy of the world around us.

A royal blue blouse, a professional model, a photo studio. This is actually fashion photography, only something – intentionally, of course – has gone awry. Instead of gazing at a fashion item we are allowed to see behind the scenes in fashion and advertising and are given an insight into how images are constructed so as to seduce consumers – and how those arts of seduction age. Canadian artist Sara Cwynar (b. 1985, Vancouver, CA) has collaged various components: in the background there is a yellowed Renaissance poster – no doubt a picture of Eve leading Adam astray. In the foreground there is an old-fashioned paper cut-out of the dress that Marilyn Monroe wore in the movie “How to Marry a Millionaire” (1953). And in between clippings from fashion magazines there is a young woman named Ali, posing in a blouse from the online retailer SSENSE. Cwynar juxtaposes modern fashion photography with images from times gone by, and a chronology of seduction techniques unfolds before our very eyes.

Shaking hands has had a bad press since early 2020, so nowadays we find ourselves waving to each other on screens instead. When this photographic image was made in 2016, we still used to offer our hands to each other on a daily basis, although even then it was not always clear when a handshake was really appropriate – and it was certainly not always pleasant. Swiss- Dutch photographer Manon Wertenbroek (b. 1991, Lausanne, CH) uses shapes and colors to express the feelings that arise in odd moments in social communication. But she does not use a paintbrush on canvas, she inscribes drawings into silver foil. She then photographs the interplay of reflections that are not created by natural light but by the glow from a computer screen, because nowadays we increasingly communicate online. The electronic glow in Wertenbroek’s images epitomizes a new era with new forms of social interaction.

Not all the stars in the sky are stars. Above our heads, there are also hundreds of satellites whizzing around in the earth’s orbit. American photographer and geographer Trevor Paglen (b. 1974, Camp Springs, Maryland, US) tracks these satellites with his camera and telescopic lenses. He also uses data provided by amateur satellite spotters who systematically monitor the night sky. In this photograph, he has captured a satellite that is part of the US Department of Defense’s socalled “Ultra High Frequency Follow-On (UFO)” system. The satellite moves around the earth at the same speed as the planet itself revolves, which is why it appears in the sky at the same time each night. The aim of these photographs is to make the geographic structures of global surveillance visible. Paglen himself describes his artistic and political approach as “experimental geography”.

Taming a tangle of cables is far from simple. However, they are bundled together, they look untidy. It is not easy to work out what this arrangement of cables is used for. But one thing is for certain: every possible effort has been made to ward off chaos and to create order by means of clips and cable ties. American photographer Daniel Everett (b. 1980, Hudson, Ohio, US) has created a body of work – “Marker” – that is focused on this frantic striving for order, which he sees as typical of modernity. He seeks it out in major cities across the world, uncovering attempts to control the urban environment – and then digitally manipulating his photographs. By adding certain elements and omitting others, he interferes with carefully controlled systems. He breathes new chaos into these images, because in his eyes order is a symbol of a sterile world bereft of life, bereft of human beings, and bereft of freedom.

Photographs can capture moments that we don’t want to forget. For photographer Simone Kappeler (b. 1952, Frauenfeld, CH) these are mainly fleeting moments in her daily life. She experiments with different types of film and cameras and lets discolorations, blurs, and distortions caused by her materials make their own contribution – all of which gives her works an almost timeless air. In this image her use of analogue infrared film causes the pictorial world of the “Nussbaumersee” to sink into a deep red. Although this photograph bears the name of the location where it was shot – Lake Nussbaum in the canton of Thurgau – the red hue tells us that it is not intended as a likeness of reality. Detached from both time and place, this image has a magical transcendence, a feeling of universality. Simone Kappeler’s subjective use of color gives expression to deep emotions and invites us to pursue our own daydreams. With a sense of melancholy, we remember that last, late summer afternoon by the lake.

Candies are often brightly colored – as light blue as the sky, as purple as a violet, as orange as tulips. That is no coincidence: the main consumers of candies are children and young people – who love colorful things. And there is a reason for this: fantasies are in color. Fantasies that above all encourage young people to rebel against society in all sorts of ways – for instance with candy-colored hair. But these days, that type of rebellion not only affects parents, it can also become a very useful pictorial motif. Young people today have grown up with the Internet, and their identities are partly formed online. Photographers Michael Meier (b. 1982, Chur, CH) and Rico Scagliola (b. 1985, Uster, CH) spent two-and-a-half years in the company of various young people in their efforts to discover all they could about that kind of identity. That was when this photograph was taken, which is now part of the series “Neue Menschen” (New People). One thing is for sure – these new people like their world to be colorful.

Young people have always had something of a difficult relationship with society. Even more so today. On one hand there is a craze for youth: everyone wants to stay young – and above all, beautiful. On the other hand, young people are constantly reproached with being lazy, spoiled, and lacking in vision – obsessed with taking selfies. Swiss photographers Michael Meier (b. 1982, Chur, CH) and Rico Scagliola (b. 1985, Uster, CH) did not want to let that two-dimensional image go unchallenged. For two-and-a-half years they spent time with several young people, which led to the series “Neue Menschen” (New People). One of those new people is Oli, seen here posing in blue light, maybe at a party – because the thing that distinguishes today’s young people from earlier generations is their instinct for staging the perfect shot. This is the first generation that has grown up with social media and has learned that you only exist if you know how to cultivate your image. Young people today control photographs of themselves in a wholly unprecedented manner.

Communication is often silent. For, even when we are seemingly silent, the merest glance towards or away from someone can say a great deal. This silent dialogue is the focus of Korean artist Kyungwoo Chun (b. 1969, Seoul, KR). “Simultan #1” shows two young women, back-to-back, from two different angles. We can tell very little about them. Their blurred contours seem to emerge from the depths of the image. There is a dearth of individual character traits or signs of affiliation. Chun is not interested in creating a realistic portrait of these sitters. Instead, he tries to capture the aspect of human existence and our social interaction. Using long exposure times and simultaneous photography from two different angles, Chun distills time and dialogue and, at the same time, invites us to take a different approach towards our many and varied relationships.