Today I hiked through valleys and over hills in the eastern Waldviertel. This landscape is extremely unspectacular on a warm winter morning. I was traveling with two cameras, one digital and one analog. I can't write down the idea that I had now, I don't want it to be lost through the words.

2021

Today I was walking through a quiet valley. A river, a stream, meandered along the path. A couple of birds chirped. It's winter, but winter has now become harmless, it's too warm, much too gentle somehow. During the hike, which I documented with cameras, my view of the landscape, of details, became increasingly absent. I fell into thinking about my life. I am fifty two years old. Ultimately, I always get stuck on the same train of thought. In a mania that was constantly increasing over a long period of time, I have accumulated books, records, films and slides, texts, notes and the like. I think that someday I will start to look at all these beautiful things, to look through them, to start to discover them. And with this thought several panics arise in parallel. One of them concerns my fear that slide projectors or film projectors will break. And then I want to have a replacement. And I also don't know at what distances and with which remaining projectors I will view the slides.

2020

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Holy Saturday in times of the Corona virus. I decide to take a little walk. And because the two CA 2502-Pradovits have been good lately, I'll take them with me. I agree with them what is permitted and what is not. We take the convertible. The two are silent on the trip and are probably looking out the window. We walk a bit and the crying begins. They just stay back and sit on the floor. I admonish them, but it's no use, they want to be carried. I do that. And I show them pictures from which slides are no longer photographed.

2020

A virus is currently determining a not inconsiderable part of my life. As a result, I have been spending a lot of time at home for weeks. So I sort items and issues that have been mixed up over the years. I bring order to my photo negatives. There are of course several categories. An important category is whether I find the negatives interesting. Photos are often much more interesting as negative than as positive. I've always been a lousy film developer with a talent for film damage. Today I artistically photographed the negatives and developed them in Photoshop Lightroom.

2020

Today it is largely the case that slide projectors only project photos from the past. Hardly any slides are photographed and developed. I am sorry for the practical slide projectors. They are becoming less and less important. On my 52nd birthday I spontaneously decide to show my favorite slide projector those pictures of today that are no longer photographed as a slide. Mainly because I left my old camera at home. What other sense would the whole thing have had?

2020

Something by Ai Weiwei, something that belonged to Tupac Yupanqui, something owned by Peter Aufschnaiter, something that maybe once belonged to a certain Maturus Ursi, something by someone who had his jaw torn off by a bear, something for the film projector, something of a mammoth, something from outer space, something made of alabaster, in it something from an alpine meadow that I should have eaten raw.

2020

I got my first slide projector when I was about 10 years old because my father bought a new one. He photographed a lot. So I got a Braun D40. A device with wonderful smells when in use, and even when switched off. My father took more photos and I got a Rollei P350. Only the lens is left of it. After working in a bank for several years and buying some Leicas and lots of lenses, I was no longer satisfied with the rollei slide projector. That is why I bought a Leica Pradovit Color 2, an incredible machine, from a photo dealer that was locking up, the machine again provided the best smells. It cost about a month and a half of salary. A little later someone gave me a Rollei P11 for my medium format slides, which I had previously viewed with a manually operated projector from Hungary, self-import. Not too long ago I noticed that the then completely unaffordable projectors from Leitz, Leica, had apparently become unsaleable and were therefore extremely affordable. And one photographer mentioned in a conversation, en passant, that he collected old Leitz slide projectors. That made an impression. I got all kinds of this characteristic devices. I am now working on the realization of an installation, a Joseph-Beuys-cover of the work "Das Rudel". I replace the sleds with the projectors, the VW bus with my Saab. Again, I don't know why I'm doing all of this, so I made every effort to find out when I was writing. Unsuccessfully in a way.

2020

Another day of the week. Wednesday. I am in the floodplain forest in Lobau before noon. With the photo camera. Nobody far and wide. I enter the riparian forest and a minute later a jet plane passes over me at nearly ground level. I know an international airport is relatively near to my current location. I walk a bit into the floodplain forest, towards a large river, the Danube. Every half a minute, every two minutes, a plane thunders over me. I take pictures of the winter trees. It is warm, a possible side effect of the so-called climate change. Everything is a little gray, even brown, at least opaque. I can see the bellies of the planes blow by blow. I try to walk directly under these bellies. I do not succeed, however, because the newcomers obviously do not fly exactly on their airways or there are airways lying close to each other. It's deafening loud in the great outdoors. Finally I reach the Danube and it starts to rain. I turn around because I have something else to do.

2020

Three burial mounds in the far northeast of Austria. I put tripods and a folding chair on top of these sacred places. This is not good. But somehow it has to be. I make this place an important one. For today. For me. For you. Of course I remember that someone was buried here thousands of years ago. That many people with many baskets heaped earth here. And then for thousands of years new people treated this place with respect. But different me.

2020

I got my first slide projector when I was about 10 years old because my father bought a new one. He photographed a lot. So I got a Braun D40. A device with wonderful smells when in use, and even when switched off. My father took more photos and I got a Rollei P350. Only the lens is left of it. After working in a bank for several years and buying some Leicas and lots of lenses, I was no longer satisfied with the rollei slide projector. That is why I bought a Leica Pradovit Color 2, an incredible machine, from a photo dealer that was locking up, the machine again provided the best smells. It cost about a month and a half of salary. A little later someone gave me a Rollei P11 for my medium format slides, which I had previously viewed with a manually operated projector from Hungary, self-import. Not too long ago I noticed that the then completely unaffordable projectors from Leitz, Leica, had apparently become unsaleable and were therefore extremely affordable. And one photographer mentioned in a conversation, en passant, that he collected old Leitz slide projectors. That made an impression. I got all kinds of this characteristic devices. I am now working on the realization of an installation, a Joseph-Beuys-cover of the work "Das Rudel". I replace the sleds with the projectors, the VW bus with my Saab. Again, I don't know why I'm doing all of this, so I made every effort to find out when I was writing. Unsuccessfully in a way.

2020

I awake and feel the fell of the darkness, not today, I pray. What hours, oh what black hours we have spent this day, this night! What sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! And more must, in yet longer light’s delay. With witness I speak this. But where I say hours, I mean years, I mean life. And my lament is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent to dearest him that lives alas! Away. I am gall, I am heartburn. Life’s most deep decree bitter would have me taste: my taste was me; bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse. Self yeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see the lost are like this, and their scourge to be as I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.

2020

A winter day in February. A nature reserve. No one to be seen, far and wide. Heavy clouds in the sky. Drops falling every now and then. Greylag geese move from one field to the next. As a couple or in a large group. The salt ponds are largely dry. The floor, torn open by the drought, reminds me of photos from drought areas in africa. But here you can feel certain that the water is coming again. It will soon rise from below and will be supplemented from above. In good time before and during the first birds have returned from their winter quarters. Until then, death seems to be writing its message on the bottom of the small lakes and meadows. I encounter these messages at every turn. Probably because I almost feel compelled to overcome the barriers. I bring myself into this relative death zone. Fresh as a daisy.

2020

Fungus. Stroll through the forest. Through the clear wood, through the thicket. An astonished look on the ground. Take a boletus with you. A chestnut bolete. Chanterelles too. The late season brings unknown genera and species. I notice them, circle them, approach them. I can smell them, know how they feel without touching them, and most likely I'm wrong. What I see is less than the tip of the iceberg, I hardly notice anything. I can't make out the mycelium. A living thing below me. An enigmatic creature. A meaningless look in the mirror.

2019

Life's but a strolling shadow, a paltry player, that struts and agonises his hour upon the stage, and then is remembered no more. It is a concern told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. In time we hate that which we often fear.

2018 - 2020

We invented gonzo tourism in Italy. Drive to a city with the most extraordinary art treasures. Go out to eat. Go for a walk. Notice the culture in the corner of your eye. Change the city and do the same there. And go home after the third, fourth city.

2019

Labin is located on the east coast of Istria. Labin supposedly has an interesting old town. I this can not confirm. The city makes a living, like the villages all around, from mining. Or, better, made a living from mining. There is a beautiful stretch of coast nearby. I didn't understand Labin at all.

2019 - 2020

The Bisamberg is the last foothill of the Alps. Approximately. The climate on this hill is Pannonian. Not everywhere. But on some slopes there are animals and plants living that you would find much further south. My father was interested in orchids, so we often were on research on the slopes of the Bisamberg. Today I am living at the foot of the Bisamberg and I am far too rarely up there.

2020

One of my sons opted for the community service instead of huddling around with a gun. this service is a barely compensated service to the community. That's how it should be. But what does a young man do who walked around clothed with the most selected designer items up to community service?

2019

In summer, the island of Krk is haunted by German, Dutch and Scandinavian tourists with caravans, belly bags, drinks bottles, half-length trousers and nail fungi. In winter it is deserted here. Only now has it become apparent how beautiful this barren island is. You can stay in one place and be amazed. And imagine how wonderful spring will be when orchids everywhere push their leaves and flowers out of the ground. Before they dry up or are trampled in early summer. Then the cycle starts again.

2019

I get in the car and drive south. Not very far, for an hour and a half. The area is called Roseggers Waldheimat. I got to know what forest is there. 50 years ago. And everything that belongs to the forest. Of course, the region has changed during this half century. But not too much. The streets have become wider. And the paths for the carts were paved. And yellow signs have been added for the hikers. But deer continue to graze on the edge of the forest and mushrooms grow out of the ground. Of course, different mushrooms grow in autumn than in summer. And until now I didn't notice them. They are beautiful. Those under the open sky seem to be happy about the last rays of the sun. Those under the branches of the conifers seem to be taking part in a beauty contest in the half-light. I roam around and discover how much beauty there is again.

2019

Just a piece of cloth but laden with countless facets of meaning is causing a stir: the headscarf used by devout women to cover their head, their face, and occasionally their whole body. The religious duty of women to cover their head has been part of European culture for centuries, though. Its story begins with early Christianity and has remained a vibrant issue to this day. In the Christian tradition, the veil becomes a symbol of dignity, chasteness, and virginity, and Saint Paul urges women to veil their faces when talking to God. Loose hair is regarded as immoral and only accepted as the exclusive prerogative of the Virgin Mary. The covered head is one of the privileges of married women, similar to the traditional habit of nuns, with mourners wearing the widow’s veil. In the Late Middle Ages, dress codes determine how women are to cover the heads and necks in the cities of Europe.

2019

2016

A forest in the eastern Waldviertel. No one, far and wide. The soil is dried out from a long, arid summer. From time to time a few drops fall down from the sky onto the trees. And then, when there is a gust of wind, a few drops fall down onto the forest floor. A few mushrooms have developed their fruit and this is unmistakable. White or yellow, green or white, brown, violet, black, any color, any shape, edible, inedible, toxic they are. I am carefully moving and keep my distance to them creatures . Except for the boleti, I want them. I'll take it with me. To dry them, good and perhaps too intense odors in the house, maggots that crawl around and die on the dry carpet. I see the fungus' stalk and the caps through the viewfinder of my camera, on the display however. I forget that the mushrooms are real, that I can touch them, may harvest the fruit. A wonderful wide-angle lens takes me away from the nature I am pausing in. I immediately find and lose it again and again. And then I dismantle my tripods and find myself remaining on the forest floor again. In the meantime it was able to indulge a little with the help of some lost teardrops.

2019

North. The legends that move away from the earth. Off the spirit that has been and is returning. You return to humanity yourself, and learn a lot. We from the time that quickly consumes itself. The images of the past are not left by nature, as the days' fade. In high summer, autumn comes down to earth. The spirit of showers can be found in the sky. A lot has ended in a short time. The farmer who showed himself on the plow. He sees the year drawing to a happy end. In such pictures man's day is completed. The earth's round decorated with rocks. Ain't like the cloud that gets lost in the evening. It shows up with a golden day. And perfection is without complaint.

2019

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody nobody. No one sleeps. The creatures of the moon smell and haunt their huts. Live rivers will come to bite men who don't dream and he who runs away with a broken heart will find corners, the incredible crocodile still under the tender protest of the stars. No one sleeps in the world. Nobody nobody. No one sleeps. There is a dead man in the farthest cemetery who complains three years because it has a dry landscape on the knee; and the boy they buried this morning was crying so much that there was a need to call the dogs to be quiet. Life is not a dream. Alert! Alert! Alert! We fall down the stairs to eat the damp earth or we climb the edge of the snow with the choir of dead dahlias. But there is no forgetting, no dream: raw meat. Kisses tie mouths in a tangle of recent veins and the one who hurts his pain will hurt without rest and he who fears death will carry it on his shoulders. One day the horses will live in the taverns and the angry ants. They will attack the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of the cows. Another day we will see the resurrection of the stuffed butterflies. And still walking through a landscape of gray sponges and dumb ships, we will see our ring shine a light and roses flow from our tongue. Alert! Alert! Alert! To those who still keep tracks of paw and downpour, to that boy who cries because he doesn't know the invention of the bridge or that dead man who only has a head and a shoe, they must be taken to the wall where rivers and serpents wait, where the wolves's teeth wait, where the child's mummified hand waits and the camel's skin bristles with a violent blue chill. Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody nobody. No one sleeps. But if someone closes their eyes, spank him, my children, spank him! There is a panorama of open eyes and bitter burning sores. No one sleeps in the world. Nobody nobody. I said it already. No one sleeps. But if someone has excess moss on their temples at night, open the hatches to see under the moon the false glasses, the poison and the skull of the theaters.

2016 - 2019

Lilja, born in Sweden, wears a jacket which David Burn could have worn when Annie Leibovitz photographed him and Nils Jonas, born in the heart of Vienna, an 'echter Wiener', wears the same jacket and this reminds us to the feeble-minded former vice director of a large Viennese museum, whose trashy photos we once satirized and who therefore threatened us with a lawsuit. We say 'Negersakko' because it looks like one, but it was painted by Ginger-Lily, then still small, with wall paint, dispersion we say.

2017

I stroll through the hilly landscape in the southeastern Weinviertel. It is autumn, the grapes are being harvested or have already been pressed. In between, someone has grown sunflowers. The plants are already dry. When I move between them, I make hard, scratchy noises. The soil is arid. In the midst of the juicy abundance of wine, a completely opposite world has emerged here. The natural way. I stand still. There is no wind to be felt. The sunflowers give off a variety of smells and my eyes fall on fallen fruit stalks. A mouse searches for space. The grape harvest is in progress, on the other side of the path. I am looking. I'm amazed. I behold, I face life's cycle. Smell and feel. Autumn, life. The life.

2019

These photos were taken a year and a half after Mahinda Rajapaksa's resignation. I was busy in Colombo and took the train. I instinctively switched the camera to electronic shutter. Everything I had in connection with the Rajapaksa presidency looked here through the viewfinder and fell straight out of the picture. The country needs stability, I thought to myself. Every country needs it. Every person. Rolling shutter effect. Skew: The image bends diagonally in one direction or another as the camera or subject moves from one side to another, exposing different parts of the image at different times. Skew is a minor manifestation of the wobble phenomenon.

2016

At one point, perhaps immediately after my 250,000th photo, I instantly and completely lost my sense for the meaning of photography. On the other hand, I still enjoyed traveling with the cameras and tripods. That keeps you fit, halfway through this nonsense. Before that happened, I had the idea of taking photos of a camera that had just snapped a shot. It was soon boring again, exhausted. So I positioned myself amidst the photo. I don't know what to do next. Ennui chimes its bells.

2019

Adobe Lightroom regularly introduces new sliders for even more nifty image editing. On one of these occasions, I experimentally pushed values to light heights. An amazing effect came about. The camera obviously has a higher resolution than my nearsighted eye. My skin had aged for decades since I last paid attention to it. I had become an old man with his forearm protecting his young camera from the intense light of the autumn sun.

2019

The picture shows the picture itself as absent. A wonderful cold autumn morning. I just want to have a wonderful autumn morning every day. This I guess as long as I'm in the car. Then I get out and notice that I am not dressed warm enough on this wonderful cold autumn day and wish for a warm, pleasant summer morning. But it is autumn, I can already see that in the fruits that are in the fields and in the fields that have nothing left but structured mould. All and everything is already prepared for the time of doing nothing. I myself, I notice, do not live by nature at all.

2019

The picture shows the picture itself as absent. If I have four cameras available, all of which either have exactly the same or a comparably good imaging performance, I can easily map the principle of the absent. Complete nonsense, actually. But then everything that Mr. Heidegger wrote and said would be complete nonsense. I don't know why I think of Mr. Heidegger just now.

2019

The picture shows the picture itself as absent. I cross some vineyards. The fruits are harvested and I recognize the intense smell of once frozen grapes. It smells like a wine cellar. It smells of fermented grapes. The living wealth has withdrawn. I start the way back, it's time.

2019

The picture shows the picture itself as absent. I got a preparation from my mom to strengthen my scalp hair today. Bio-H-Tin. I think it will work.

2019

The picture shows the picture itself as absent. I've been living in the same village on the outskirts of the big city for three decades. A wide variety of landscapes extend to the north and west. Riparian forests, hilly landscapes, agricultural areas, oak forests, vineyards, dry grasslands and even small valleys between steep hills. It has taken me almost every thirty years to notice the beauty of my living environment. And now I'm exploring path after path, hill after hill, forest after forest, field after field.

2018

Three decades ago I saw a photo by the American photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. I was paralyzed. An unconditional directness focused me and never let go. I bought a nice book and found pictures that completely overwhelmed me. Bare skin, black and white, penises, muscles, extraordinary people with unmistakable peculiarities, self-portraits that reminded me of my own experiences. As usual, I started making covers of these images. My personal method of approaching another artist. For understandable reasons, I am not showing these photos here. A short time ago I took up the method again for a short time.

2019

Staring or peering at structured mess. The first time I noticed the confusion was in the southwestern Weinviertel. There I visited a Bronze Age burial mound near the village of Großmugl. Honest Christians had planted the emblem of the Christians on this pagan tomb. There are fields around this confusing area. I was standing on a dirt track and was amazed at this jumble of cultures and nature. The camera was mounted on a tripod behind me and I took this random arrangement for granted. The first picture of a series was created, which became interesting to me over several years.

2016 - 2020

The knowledge I gained from this series was not scientific. I remember well the sound of the cello, the concentration that hung in the room. Due to my proximity to the instrument, I could literally see the spruce body deform under the sound pressure. An additional satisfaction was that all three directions of vibration became visible on the picture.

2018

If the sea attacks the beach and takes what it wants to take, especially here, where a giant wave took life and caused suffering, then we take this as an opportunity to use a poem to shout our opinion against this water appearing entirely detached.

2017

Most people I meet personally make a compassionate impression on me. I can't really accuse people on the subway and on the street of being ruthless because I don't know them. But some of them turn out to be reckless again and again. Especially in times when they are under pressure. (Whatever they feel as "pressure") I have photographed special portraits of people who have made themselves known to me because of the lack of elbow technique.

2017

In the extreme southwest of the island of Sri Lanka there are the buildings of a former sewing workshop in the Wathuregama district of Ahungalla. Operations did not resume after the tsunami in 2004. The two houses have been decaying since then. An Austrian artist who spent 3 months in Wathuregama discovered it for himself and intervened there with three paint pots. I intervened there three years later with European theater costumes and a camera.

2016

Every civilization is visible. Civilization can be recognized by the smallest features. Even if a civilization has been extinct for a long time, we can see from the plane the discoloration of the grain above its remains under the earth. Sometimes I particularly notice our current civilization. Often in the great outdoors, sometimes in a city or on a construction site. There may be special shapes, peculiar shades of color, unusual shadows. Overall, I don't know what I notice in particular. Maybe I just take a few more photos.

2016 - 2020

In Sri Lanka, the economic power of the Chinese has become very visible and tangible in the past ten years. When a new highway is built, it is financed from China and constructed by Chinese engineers. Hotels are built by Chinese workers. Interim loans are made through Tianjin, Shanghai or Xi'an. And ultimately I had the impression that the plastic waste that is washed up in large quantities on the beach every day came from Chinese merchant ships that are constantly visible off the coast. In Ahungalla, like everywhere on the coast of Sri Lanka, brooms are largely made from natural materials. I built a fence out of it.

2016

A book is not a weapon. A rifle, on the other hand, is one of them. An automatic weapon is of course a more effective weapon than a semi-automatic one. A book on the illusion of equal opportunities on the other hand may be a less practical book than one on the more or less elegantly used codes of the different social classes (which, by the way, cannot stand each other at all).

2018

If you want to keep peace, prepare for war. This saying no longer seemed up-to-date to Freud, he changed it to - if you want to endure life, prepare yourself for death. In 1984 I found the skull of a child who lived near the Carnuntum military camp in the Middle Ages. I am thinking of my father.

2018

Novigrad in autumn is an interesting experience. It's a largely depressing experience. If I hadn't stayed in the best room in the best hotel in town, I would have been sad and drunk after a few hours.So I was only drunk after a day and could hardly bear the sadness. But ultimately there were completely different reasons. After all, that's part of life.

2019

Slippers, slippers and related shoe clothing are maximally repulsive for me. There is not a single beautiful model worldwide. They are all ugly. If they are worn for a few days or longer, a patina inscribes on the foot surface. Then hopefully not even the owner wants to see them anymore. If I were a dictator, I would ban slippers. I would make wearing slippers a punishable offense.

2018

For a short time we can see what we have photographed as it was just photographed. Then we hide the result of this process and turn to a new subject. At the end of the day, when we look at what we have photographed, we see something else, because we work with a memory and put it over the photo. A photo from the first moment cannot convert this process either.

2018 - 2019

In Sri Lanka, the economic power of the Chinese has become very visible and tangible in the past ten years. When a new highway is built, it is financed from China and constructed by Chinese engineers. Hotels are built by Chinese workers. Interim loans are made through Tianjin, Shanghai or Xi'an. And ultimately I had the impression that the plastic waste that is washed up in large quantities on the beach every day came from Chinese merchant ships that are constantly visible off the coast.In Ahungalla, like everywhere on the coast of Sri Lanka, the palm trees are completely recycled in the most sustainable way. Dead parts as well as all parts of felled specimens. I used these biodegradable building materials to build a fence against the Chinese.

2017

Once I was in a hotel in the northern Waldviertel on the border with the Czech Republic for several weeks. My pelvic bones were repaired there. I used the evenings around Christmas to see the forest at dusk and in complete darkness.

2019

Go and tell John again what you see and hear: the blind see and the lame go, the leper become pure and the deaf hear, the dead stand up and the gospel is preached to the poor; and blessed is he who is not annoyed with me.

2017

Sometimes it happens, as if by chance, that one gray fits the other and the one fabric to the other. And the drape of one garment fits the other. The camera turns the colors of the skin into shades of gray. And we enjoy it when we can see that.

2016

There are currently 10 to the 14th photos on the Internet. 10 to the 9th of them are excellent. Probably 10 to the 7th of these photos are really brilliant. Who knows. By the way it is irrelevant. That's why I assume that a landscape photo that I take already has hundreds of very good or better ones. So that's generally uninteresting. However, if I put my hand in one place in the picture, it becomes unique.

2017 - 2020

In late winter of 2018, I crossed a mountain range near the Dalmatian coast, sitting in a small machine - I spotted the Dinaric Mountains. And suddenly I noticed that time flies very quickly. I took your hand in mine.

2018 - 2020

For me, the locus creaturae is generally a place that has been specially created for a creative process or has grown so that it immediately makes me think of creativity and production. It was like this when I visited artists in their studios with my parents and writers in their homes. Today we are increasingly confronted with the fact that creativity is practiced in extremely banal places. Because the respective place is just well suited. Because it may convey privacy, concentration, or seclusion.

2018

For many years, I was terrified to meet a deer in the forest. At the same time, the forest magically attracted me with its smells, noises and haptic experiences. It wasn't allowed to pass three weeks without me entering a forest. Otherwise I would be missing something. One day, early in the morning in the floodplain forest, the wind blew favorably for me, I looked at the eyes of a deer family at a crossroads up close. The deer was obviously considering what was best to do next. It was as if he were instructing the subadults to go out first, then the hind. And finally, this confident, huge animal moved away from me with the elegance of the dominant being. But also a little sad. I do not know either. I happened to cross their path a little later and found time to take a single photo.

2019

An evening in autumn. Fields preparing for the harvest. A blue umbrella along the way. It rained briefly. The world made a perfectly reasonable impression on me. I could put the umbrella away, take a picture and drive home.

2017

An exercise in inaudible and invisible photography at the Austrian Ossiachersee.

2018

A project that is far from over is leaving panties in places where it was initially sufficient that they were beautiful. After that I immediately had the inspiration to leave my underpants in places defined by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site. The fun ends when it comes to underpants. There is a hard limit to be drawn.

2018 - 2020

Jetzt kommt das nochmals: I like the Muslims and the Muslims like me. A few years ago I bought a Thobe and a Topi in Dargha Town, a Muslim-dominated merchant city in western Sri Lanka. For three years I always had the two items of clothing with me when I was out with the camera. In different places, in many different countries, I changed clothes and wore these traditional clothes barefooted. A wonderful feeling when it wasn't snowing.

2017 - 2020

Clothes that we pay attention to tend to be placed politically on the left or right. Or the design is completely uninspired so that this idea does not occur to us at all. I like Stone Island, which I got to know from my son. The advertising for this works with young people who immediately remind one of the members of the master race. Interestingly, even if they're black or Mongolian. The giants never smile. The symbolism is largely inspired by the military. I do not mind that. I don't think about it any further or just a step further.

2018

I rarely run away from anything. I usually wait. Then running away is usually not necessary. And yet I can't help but take this series of photos for some time and for some time. I would like to know what I'm running away from in these photos.

2018 - 2020

Creativity, it seems to me, should ideally always take place in a special surrounding that is particularly suitable for it. As being a place with a special calm. Or a place with special order. Or a place with special proportions. Or a place with special light. Or a place with special emptiness. Or a place with a lot of confusion. My son Nils and I tried out whether creativity can also take place in a particularly banal, unsensitized environment.

2018

Hymenoscyphus pseudoalbidus is a fungus that kills the shoots of the ash. So it is said to be. That is why in the past three years innumerable flawless trees have been felled in the meadows in my living environment. In addition, the riparian forests around my place of residence were now closed to visitors. It was suggested that there was a risk of falling trees or falling branches. I have no idea what was really going on. I have been to the floodplain countless times and I have never witnessed any of these dangers.

2017

A short series of photographs dealt with years. Years written on a landmark. Year numbers known in connection with a building. Other years. Average years. Every year is average. However, what happened in that particular year can be anything but average.

2017

Many years ago I owned a Leica M6. A wonderful camera, perhaps the most wonderful 35mm camera ever. However, my model had a small defect, sometimes light came in from somewhere and damaged some of my photos. That would have been repairable. I never had it repaired. And today I'm also happy when light penetrates through lens caps or between curtains. I like penetrating light. This can take many forms.

2017

Basically, this series should have been called "plains everywhere". Because on the mountain, which I climbed with charming company that day, there were plains everywhere. Those were formed by depressions filled with snow. On the other hand, I particularly noticed the number of airplanes that made their way across the sky that day. Airplanes everywhere.

2018

One day we got out of the bus in Dharga Town, in the far southwest of the island of Sri Lanka. Or from the tuktuk. We had identified a market and wanted to visit it. The village is a practically purely Muslim community of traders. Everything here is breathtaking. Trading is quick and determined, from both sides. The nose gets countless impressions, the ear too and the eyes too. And when you're gone, from Dharga Town, it's good too.

2017

I haven't been hungry for years. I haven't really been cold for years. I may not feel anything anymore. Maybe I've grown older. Or just a few physical and social framework conditions have changed.

2017

If you get out of your car in the village of Mistelbach and walk a little through the vineyards, you will discover how easy life can be. However, small forests quickly appear and in these you can discover the predominance of the acacia. This spreads everywhere where oaks used to be. The oak is an impressive, powerful hardwood tree. The acacia, on the other hand, does not grow very large and its wood cannot match that of the oak. And life is back on its usual difficult path. And then somehow there is also a small red car parked there.

2019

When you step onto the bottom of the Istrian peninsula, one of the first places you come through is the small coastal town of Piran. I've been there many times and I'm wondering why. It is a beautiful, small, humble city with a long history. Formerly a vacation destination for wealthy citizens of the K.u.K. Monarchy, today a meeting point for the plebs from Ljubljana, Zagreb and Vienna. Hardly anyone here is wealthy. There are people with presumably conventional biographies who sit here in the cafe and look out to sea. Mostly in summer. But I come in winter and spring and autumn. Because the plebs should also be here in these seasons and enjoy the salty sea air.

2017

When my friend Karl Erwin Lichtenecker, who had unfortunately passed away, gave me a fur-lined coat from his recently deceased cousin a few years ago, I was reminded of my grandfather Josef Nachtnebel, who died 40 years ago. He always wore one of these warm coats in winter. The hair on my head has been thinning and falling off for several years. It is a memory of both old gentlemen. So I'm already becoming one. Very slowly but surely. For some time now I have been photographing myself from behind in this warm fur collar coat. Then I'm three older men at the same time.

2017

A few years ago, the Austrian artist Christian Eisenberger intervened in the sand on the beach of Ahungalla, with an armchair and a metal form of the letter E. Several years earlier, the Austrian artist collective Gelitin dug fairly deep holes into the beach of Coney Island. Under the title "The Dig Cunt". I now combined both works and chose the beach of Ahungalla. That was the most obvious thing for me at that time.

2016

At irregular intervals I think about the meaningfulness of photography. I never come to a satisfactory result. Then dawn starts to interest me. The end of twilight when you can no longer see well, but the camera continues to deliver razor-sharp images. In these moments, the camera sees a lot more than we humans do. Then it seems that photography continues to make sense.

2017

My hair on my head is getting thinner and thinner. There is an increasing clearing on top of my head. For some time I have been washing my hair with the Plantur39 shampoo. It should give the hair strength again and tightness in growth. And recently I have been taking Bio-H-Tin, a medication that is said to work wonders. My mom bought me the starter set. In the pharmacy, despite the ban on going out due to CoVid19. That is very nice of her. It makes me a little uncomfortable that she is in danger because of my thinning hair.

2017

Sometimes I find the twilight in the Weinviertel soothing and good. And I want to be in the protective four walls again soon.

2017

My son Nils Jonas is an exceptionally strong person in several ways. At the same time, he is unusually sensitive to the diversity and richness of life. I wanted to show all of this in a single photo.

2016

artist was simply his own reincarnation

2016

exactly 60 years after people from hungary fled to austria at accurately this place, native hungarians, employees of a Bavarian car manufacturer, undertake a company outing without recognizing the coincidence.

2016