Berlin photographer Florian Hetz presents AIKO, a visual diary that explores the innermost thoughts and feelings after the death of his father. “This is not a book about the pandemic, but a book about letting go, acceptance and hope,” writes Florian regarding his project. In fact, even if mostly shot in the year 2020, the everyday life scenes we are confronted with are “photographic notes,” as we read in the foreword by Daniel Schreiber, that tell us of an intimate exploration of the balance between life and death, taking his personal story as a starting point.
Mostly known for his nude portraits, Hetz’s unique gaze on the male body is fascinating: naked, sensual and isolated bodies rise in their statuary beauty. Faces are often hidden and skins always shine. The breath becomes short, in front of these fragments of possibility. These portraits speak of closeness and confidence, and act as a meeting point between light and shadow. They do not appear on their own, but are skilfully paired with still images of that kind of details that usually takes a second place. In the development of this visual narrative, nature marks the rhythm of time. Gradually emotions take different shapes. Memories take different shapes too. The world and its perspective change to us. We hope, again. The heart of AIKO lies in its title, which is an acronym of the German-language slogan Aufgeben ist keine Option (“Giving up is not an option” in English). Indeed, this book reminds us that even from pain, we can gain a better part of ourselves.
Read our Q&A with Florian Hetz to know more about his project and his artistic practice.
Can you tell me how the project AIKO was born?
In the beginning of 2021 I went through all the photos I took in 2020 and realised that my focus had shifted away from taking photos of people. One of the main reasons of course was the pandemic. I didn’t feel comfortable shooting with people inside, and the few photos of people I took happened either in the beginning of 2020 or in summer/autumn, when the situation allowed it. But it also was a well-needed break for me, kind of a creative reset.
Looking back at that year, I realised that I unconsciously went back to taking diary photos, a habit I started in 2007, when I was fighting memory loss due to encephalitis. And just like in 2007, the diary photos enabled me to remember. Precious moments like the first warm sun after a long winter, the last time I got to spend time with my partner in Canada, before travel restrictions made it impossible for us to see each anymore, but also the death of my father. 2020 was a year that effected all of us. And we all went through certain things together, had similar experiences, but all of us also have our very own stories. And not everything in this year was about the pandemic. AIKO is the my very own story.
How did you work on the realization of the book?
Since AIKO is about the photos of one year, I structured the book loosely like the four seasons. It starts in winter and ends in late autumn. But that doesn’t mean that every photo has necessarily been taken in that respective season. Sometimes it’s a mood or a colour that transports the feeling of that time of the year much better. Like in all of my books I am interested in the dialogue photos can have on a double-page. At times it’s about the repetition of nature and how we find similar shapes and forms everywhere and how we unwittingly imitate nature. Another focus of mine is how to tell a short story with only two photos.
How did you start shooting?
Even though I always surrounded myself with photography, I never wanted to take photos myself. The few times I took photos, I didn’t bring the film to the laboratory to get it developed. I simply was too impatient to wait for the film to get back to me.
But in 2007, when I ended up in hospital with a severe encephalitis. One side effect was, that I lost part of my memory. In order to not forget, I started to take photos with a little digital point-and-shoot camera. I was never a diary writer, but those photos worked exactly like a diary. When I looked at them a week later, I still could remember that moment, or the person in the photo. I started to carry that little camera with me at all times and that conditioned me to look at things more photographically. Ironically I lost most of those photos during a hard drive crash later. So I basically lost my memory twice.
At the end of 2015, I posted one of my photos on Tumblr. I liked the photo a lot and didn’t think too much of it. Till then I only used Tumblr to repost photos of others. But that photo of mine went viral within a very short time. And the same thing happened with two other of my photos. It was interesting to see that other people appreciated my way of seeing things, but I was very hesitant to share more of my private life. That was the point where I decided to buy a better camera, a simple light and to create all the images that I carried around in my head for as long as I can think. And since digital photography allowed me to have full control over every aspect, I started to enjoy the process a lot. To this day I can not imagine handing over my digital files to anyone else, or even letting someone do my light.
What is your relation to photography?
Photography has always been a way for me to escape. My parents moved us from Frankfurt to a tiny Bavarian village when I was a child. When I was 12 years old, I knew I did not fit in there and also had no desire to do so. This was pre-internet and my way to escape that life was through reading, movies, magazines and photo books. At each visit of the next city I went straight to a book shop and spent hours in the photography department. That’s where I discovered artists like Irving Penn, George Hurrell, Richard Avedon, Peter Hujar and Robert Mapplethorpe and it opened up a completely new world for me. Unknowingly I studied them and their techniques, by copying their works in pencil. And still today I can trace back aspects of the way I use light to someone like Clarence Sinclair Bull. After school I was working at a small framer and all the money I made I invested in photo books and international fashion magazines.
There are a lot of male nudes in AIKO. How did you relate to the subjects?
I only shoot with people that approach me. And about 90% of the sitters have never been in front of a camera professionally. So a big part of my work is to create an atmosphere where someone forgets how unnatural the setting is. The sitter needs to feel comfortable and the best way for me to achieve this is to get to know them before the shoot happens. Normally I meet up with someone a week before in a neutral space like a cafe to talk. I want them to have the chance to ask questions and tell me about themselves. We all carry insecurities with us and for me it’s important to not overstep boundaries. The more I know before a shoot, the easier it will be. The best possible outcome is, if someone forgets that they are naked.
Regarding this topic, do you have some references or masters you’re inspired by?
When it comes to male nudes, Peter Hujar first comes to my mind. Unlike Mapplethorpe, Hujar gives his sitters space on the photos. And I’m not talking about physical space, but emotional space. That said, Mapplethorpe was important for me as a teenager, because seeing his work in expensive photo books gave me permission to see my own sexuality as something valid.
What else inspires you?
A main inspiration for me will always be literature and art history. I always carry a book with me and whenever I travel I will go to the museums first. They are like safe havens for me in busy times. I can spend hours walking through collections and never get tired of it. And I keep coming back to visit certain paintings, like the Hammershøi paintings at the David Collection in Copenhagen.
But also cities and their individual light inspire me a lot. When I moved to LA for an artist residency, my work changed completely because of the incredible quality of the light in California, and of course I take these experiences with me.
What is your approach to the theme of sexuality–especially male sexuality?
I kind of look at sexuality from a more biological aspect. It’s part of life and there’s beauty in it. Sexuality is a funny thing. Most of us deal with it on some level. And most of us feel ashamed to talk about it. Sexuality is for most people the line they draw when it comes to privacy. And yet the majority of us are fascinated by it. Sexuality catapulted Kim Kardashian and her family into superstardom. I doubt that this could happen with a man. There is so much phobia attached to the naked man. How often do we hear from people that the female body is beautiful, but the male body is not? That’s a very unhealthy way to deal with bodies. I don’t think, we should be ashamed of sexuality and nudity. Church and religion did a good job to make us feel bad about ourselves. And now social media has taken over that role and is teaching young people that female nipples are pornographic and that they should be ashamed of their bodies.
What do you expect from the future? How will you develop your practice?
I’m experimenting a lot with still lifes at the moment, which has to do with the fact that I quite enjoyed not shooting with people so much. There’s a lot to learn about harmony and composition. But I just started and am curious where that lead. I am looking forward to exhibitions again. Right now I’m preparing an exhibition in Melbourne for 2022 with the festival Photo2022 and some group shows in Europe. A big thing I am contemplating about is, how my way of living and working is affecting the climate and what I can do about it. I used to travel excessively in the past. I am the happiest when I am away. But that is something I don’t feel comfortable with anymore. I can’t go to Fridays for future demonstrations and then jump into a plane to fly somewhere. On the other hand I definitely don’t want to be stuck in Berlin for the rest of my life. I don’t have the answer for my conundrum, but maybe it’s time to pack my camera in spring and cycle through Europe.
