An honest interview with the artist

Question one: 
Why do you specialize in landscape, spirituality, and time in your photographic art?

As a child, I grew up right on the edge of the forest and spent most of my time building caves, playing in the forest, and BMX riding.
I was less interested in spirituality … .
When I was 9 years old and joined the Christian children of the congregation in a retreat, we all stood in the church with the priest, and we were all supposed to be quiet because he was telling us something.
I don’t know why, but my friend and I got the giggles. Then, the priest threw us out of the church very angrily.
This had a lasting effect on me, and I did not want to go back to church after this event. That’s how scared I was.
After that, God, religion, spirituality … did not play any role for me for a long time.
When I started spraying graffiti at the age of 13, I was saved.
All my energy went into drawing. I discovered a new perception of myself, and I really enjoyed it.
In 1990, shortly after the [Berlin] wall had come down, I lost three of my friends in a traffic accident.
A delivery driver had fallen asleep behind the steering wheel and crashed into the family car. We had all played soccer together the evening before it happened.
What was funny and mystical was that crows flew around the family house. That was at exactly the time when the accident happened.
For me, it was a bad time, because, eight weeks earlier, my godfather had had an accident with his car on the same road.
All I had left were memories and photographs. When I started photographing, it was my driving force to photograph my friends in a way that made them remember.
My motivation was to capture the soul. Photography felt like a pause button to me.
Through the death of my friends and then of my godfather, I began to deal intensively with life and with life after death. At the same time, graffiti gave me a means to express myself and to heal my world.
My ideas were spinning. Very early on, I sought refuge in art.

Question two:
Who is your art for?
My art is meant for people with good karma 🙂, for people who love nature and seek a deeper meaning in life.
It’s meant for people who don’t believe in coincidence.
When I was in New Zealand in 2006 and had not contacted my mom for weeks, I picked up the phone. It didn’t even ring; she was already on the other side. She was about to call me too.
In 2001, I sat in my apartment with a model and drew a sketch of the setup of the photo shoot that we wanted to do later on.
She was supposed to be a nurse, and I imagined burning houses in the background.
When she left, I got a call from my friend saying that the twin towers in Manhattan were burning.

Question three:
Why do you think everyone should go on a pilgrimage?

In 2014, after photographing the Holi Festival for 14 days, I organized a Holi family celebration for 50 widows and 50 sadhus in the home of my Indian assistant. There was plenty of vegetarian food and kirtan music.

In 2004, I was in India for the first time, in Sri Mayapur. Ten monks led me to this place in West Bengal.

The journey was anything but comfortable for me.
I slept for 6 weeks without a mattress only on the ashram floor – directly on the stones without a mosquito net.
I had to get up every morning at 4:30 and go to the temple to the Arati.
This time has left a lasting and positive impression on me, and to this day the memory of this place of pilgrimage gives me strength on a daily basis.
The ceremonies and the daily procedures have left a very strong impression on me.
Since then, I have been trying to capture my experiences in my pictures in order to authentically reflect a situation that I feel.
I met people who were very poor and yet seemed very happy to me.

I learned about simple living and high thinking, and that you always feel good when you have confidence.

Question four:
What emotional moments did you have as a pilgrim in India?

I had heard of the holy number 108 before I left Germany. I had also heard that this number is found on the rosary and the Indian prayer beads.
I had to cobble together my last money to go to India. I had been given some rolls of film, and I myself bought as many as I could.
On the last evening before my departure, I counted 108 rolls. For me, it was like a sign, and I don’t believe in coincidence either.
When I took my first walk with the camera in the morning in a holy city in India, I discovered a little boy in a contre-jour situation on a garbage dump and photographed him.
Meanwhile, an old man tapped on my shoulder and asked me to take pictures showing the spiritual and not the material India, with all the dirt and stench. These were great events that shaped me.
And, days after that, this very work was created.

Spiritual Stairs, 2004, Edition 7 + 2AP, signed, Art.-Nr. AW/F 2003/1, 80 x 120 cm, (more sizes available)