Renowned photography historian Hans-Michael Koetzle has delivered a stark assessment of Germany's photography landscape, declaring that the country is "hopelessly behind" compared to America and urgently needs a major lighthouse institution in Berlin. The gray eminence of the photography industry argues that Germany lacks proper lobbying power for photography and requires a world-class museum with collection, library, and magazine archives to compete internationally.
Koetzle's journey into photography wasn't predetermined. After studying German literature and testing his writing abilities, he received a scholarship from the Literary Colloquium Berlin in 1981, led by Walter Höllerer. This Berlin experience proved to be a turning point when Michael Köhler, editor of the photography magazine Zoom, invited him to report on the Berlin photography scene. At that time, the Berlinische Galerie had just acquired Erich Salomon's estate, the Kreuzberg Adult Education Center with Michael Schmidt was making headlines, and the Nagel Gallery on Fasanenstraße was thriving.
"I realized that investigative work and historical research interested me more than literary fiction," Koetzle explained. "Since there were few people writing seriously about photography without exclusively targeting the academic world, I saw a path here." His breakthrough came in 1985 when Köhler invited him to collaborate on the exhibition "The Nude Photo" at the Munich City Museum, which became a tremendous opportunity that placed photography at the center of his professional interests.
During the preparation of that groundbreaking exhibition, Koetzle and his team capitalized on the fact that many classical photographers were still alive. For instance, they contacted André de Dienes, one of the first photographers to portrait Marilyn Monroe, who was living in Los Angeles. A simple letter exchange resulted in a complete biography and access to his images for the exhibition, establishing the foundation for Koetzle's later lexical projects.
This success led to a series of classics that remain available today, including "Photographers A-Z" and "Photo Icons," along with essays, catalogs, and monographs about László Moholy-Nagy, Bruce Gilden, Barbara Klemm, Robert Lebeck, and Dr. Paul Wolff-Tritschler, all published by renowned publishing houses. Remarkably, all this was achieved as a career changer from outside the field.
"The most important contributions to photography theory have been written by authors who came from other spheres like Walter Benjamin, John Berger, Susan Sontag, Roland Barthes – though I don't want to compare myself to them," Koetzle noted. "Art historians look at the image. The environment, the technology, the genesis interest them less. I'm more of a phenomenologist." His interdisciplinary approach has always been important to him, incorporating cultural history, design and press history, including oral history methods.
This approach led to his early interest in magazines, beginning with the zeitgeist magazine "twen," for which he was allowed to curate a first exhibition at the Munich City Museum in 1995. Having collected material for years, he could unfold a panorama of the decade reflected in this magazine published between 1959 and 1971.
In 1996, Koetzle became editor-in-chief of the newly founded magazine "Leica World." Together with Munich graphic designer Horst Moser, he presented a concept to the Leica board that corresponded to their understanding of an uncompromisingly well-made magazine. The proposal was accepted, allowing them to demonstrate that Leica photography was more than just a beautified view of the world. During the magazine's twelve-year existence, they won important awards, particularly in the United States, before the company decided to discontinue the publication in 2007.
However, by that time, Koetzle had already met and spoken with all the greats: Saul Leiter, Martin Parr, Robert Lebeck, F.C. Gundlach, Marc Riboud, and the recently deceased Gianni Berengo Gardin. "The Leica label functioned like a door opener," he recalled. His fascination with art directors led him to interview legends of the industry, including Alexei Brodowitsch from Harper's Bazaar, Alexander Liberman from Vogue, and Rolf Gillhausen from Stern.
"Rolf Gillhausen, the long-time editor-in-chief of Stern, was Germany's most important magazine maker after Willy Fleckhaus – and no one had ever interviewed him," Koetzle emphasized. Meeting and speaking with these great creatives of the 20th century was both an opportunity and a mission for him. Sometimes he felt like he was holding a piece of world history, such as when Alexander Liberman received him in his New York apartment and told his life story since the Russian Revolution, speaking about his mother who had worked with Mayakovsky.
Over the years, Koetzle has accumulated an impressive archive. Ironically, magazines are the hardest to obtain – a mass medium with amazing circulation figures that hardly anyone preserves. Yet Germany was the most important press location in the interwar period. Around 1930, Berlin had about 150 daily newspapers, some appearing three times daily, plus dozens of illustrated magazines. This abundance of printed material featured innovative approaches in photojournalism, new typography, new vision, and new objectivity in literature and film – all taking place until 1933 when the tradition was abruptly severed.
Despite decades of discussion, there's still no decision about a possible location for a German Photography Museum. "A lighthouse for photography with collection, library, and magazine archive would be overdue, but it would have to be an institution that is well-funded financially, has representative spaces, and is located in a true metropolis," Koetzle argued. "For me, Berlin, as the former media center par excellence, is predestined for such a house. Something like Hasso Plattner's Museum Barberini in Potsdam with its impressive Impressionist collection – we need something with this kind of radiance for photography."
The problem, according to Koetzle, is that Germany is hopelessly behind compared to America. The Manfred Heiting photo collection went to Houston, the Thomas Walther collection to the Museum of Modern Art in New York, and the Helmut Gernsheim collection decades ago to Austin, Texas. "As long as the works are properly archived conservationally, that's actually not a problem. Only getting loans from there is complicated and hardly manageable given the financial and personnel equipment of our institutions," he explained.
The situation with photo festivals in Germany is equally concerning. There were corresponding events in Mannheim, Herten, and Esslingen, but those are history. The Hamburg Triennial and the European Month of Photography continue to exist, but political interest is lacking, along with the power and money that come with it. "Photography has no lobby. It's different in France and Spain," Koetzle observed.
This almost makes photography seem like it leads a shadow existence in Germany. "There is a great misunderstanding in Germany regarding the medium of photography, even after almost 200 years. We are and remain primarily a literary culture," Koetzle noted. During exhibition tours, he repeatedly senses this helplessness among visitors. Digital technology has probably finally buried knowledge about photography's media peculiarities. The smartphone with its photo function is deceptive.
The circle of people truly interested in photography is manageable, and photo book circulation is modest. In a country with hundreds of literary prizes, there is only one photo book prize. And in the art city of Munich, not a single well-stocked photo or art bookstore could survive.
Regarding photography in the art market, Koetzle explains that price formation remains complicated and a mystery to outsiders. Classical modernism continues to be valued highest. László Moholy-Nagy is in the low six-figure range, and originals (vintage prints) by August Sander or Albert Renger-Patzsch are no longer flea market goods. Young photographers orient themselves to these prices, limit their works, present them in elegantly framed formats, and calculate with prices that a broader public cannot understand.
"For the majority of our contemporaries, a photo remains a multiple that should cost little and match the sofa in color," Koetzle observed. "Collectors who follow a concept have become rare. Few people in this country collect photography at the same level as painting. The Würth Collection bought Max Beckmann's Self-Portrait Yellow-Pink for twenty million euros in 2022. For that amount, I could set up a complete photography museum."
Many photographers, not necessarily first-rate ones, call themselves artists. What speaks against the honorable professional designation of photographer? "Photography is the foundling of technical modernity; to ennoble it, one needed the artist as a noble predicate," Koetzle explained. "The Becher School understood and implemented this early on." Bernd and Hilla Becher did three things right from their perspective: they positioned themselves as artists, not photographers; they had themselves represented by an art gallery and thus threaded themselves into the art market; and they sought the path through America.
Although the debate about whether photography is art has supposedly been behind us for a hundred years, it keeps popping up again. Therefore, one must still deal with many prejudices today. "Iconic images are not in large-scale circulation, but rare. Photographs are not simply photos, but aesthetic creations with an aura, a surface, a weight. And they can not only inform about what has been, but also touch. Only: You have to do your homework. It's the same with photography as with used cars or stock prices – you have to engage with the matter," Koetzle concluded.
