Kunstpark Ost
Merian Magazine 1999

In the late 1990s, the Kunstpark Ost was created on the former Pfanni site in Munich, with a multitude of clubs, bars, restaurants and studios. Tens of thousands of visitors crowded there every weekend to celebrate. 

After learning that Merian magazine was planning a Munich issue for that year, I arranged with the picture desk that no one else would be commissioned on this subject until my photographs had been reviewed.

For the next three weeks, I spent the nights from Thursday to Sunday often until four or five in the morning in the various clubs and bars, where, thanks to a letter of recommendation from the leaseholder, I was able to move around freely.

In the Milchbar, bathed entirely in red light, Blur’s fantastic 'Song 2' pounded in my ears as I took photographs.
At the Titty Twister, a stripper danced on a tiny stage above the entrance while I crouched up in the rafters, trying not to fall and become part of the show myself.
At the Sunday Ladies’ Night at the New York Table Dance Bar, I was the only man in the room besides the strippers.
An interesting experience as well.

In the end it didn’t become a solo feature, but most of the photographs – including those for the opening double spread – were mine, at least…

Kunstpark Ost
Merian Magazine 1999

In the late 1990s, the Kunstpark Ost was created on the former Pfanni site in Munich, with a multitude of clubs, bars, restaurants and studios. Tens of thousands of visitors crowded there every weekend to celebrate. 

After learning that Merian magazine was planning a Munich issue for that year, I arranged with the picture desk that no one else would be commissioned on this subject until my photographs had been reviewed.

For the next three weeks, I spent the nights from Thursday to Sunday often until four or five in the morning in the various clubs and bars, where, thanks to a letter of recommendation from the leaseholder, I was able to move around freely.

In the Milchbar, bathed entirely in red light, Blur’s fantastic 'Song 2' pounded in my ears as I took photographs.
At the Titty Twister, a stripper danced on a tiny stage above the entrance while I crouched up in the rafters, trying not to fall and become part of the show myself.
At the Sunday Ladies’ Night at the New York Table Dance Bar, I was the only man in the room besides the strippers.
An interesting experience as well.

In the end it didn’t become a solo feature, but most of the photographs – including those for the opening double spread – were mine, at least…