Hidden beneath the bustling streets of Zurich lies one of Switzerland's most remarkable collections of poster art, carefully curated by Beatrice Müller over decades of passionate collecting. Her gallery, Artifiche, located at Stockerstrasse 38, houses over 3,000 original posters that chronicle the evolution of Swiss graphic design, with some pieces selling for more than 10,000 Swiss francs. As Zurich debates a potential advertising ban, Müller has emerged as a vocal opponent, declaring herself "appalled by such regulations."
Müller's underground gallery represents far more than a commercial venture—it serves as a living museum of Swiss design history. Her collection includes authentic pieces from advertising, film, and design history, making it the largest private poster collection in the city. "I am appalled by such regulations," Müller states regarding the proposed advertising ban. "Posters are part of Zurich's cityscape. They make the city more colorful and vibrant. Poster art is more than advertising—it's a mirror of its time and an expression of craftsmanship that creates lasting value."
Among the treasures in Müller's collection are historical posters from the Neue Zürcher Zeitung (NZZ), particularly a 1928 masterpiece by Otto Baumberger. The poster, featuring the text "Appears Three Times Daily," documents the fact that NZZ was published three times daily from 1894 to 1969. This rare original, printed as a lithograph by the traditional Wolfensberger printing house, is considered a classic of Swiss poster art. Müller describes it as "typographically strong and intelligently executed—a true masterpiece."
The lithographic printing technique, also known as stone printing, emerged in the 1790s and evolved throughout the following decades. By the end of the 19th century, it became possible to produce colorful posters relatively inexpensively. The process involved drawing images with oil-based ink on limestone, treating them with acidic water, and printing them on paper. This technique gave colors their characteristic luminosity and made poster art a form of genuine handcraft.
Müller's journey into poster collecting began as a passion in the 1980s, focusing on typography, Swiss fonts, and 21st-century designers like Bruno Monguzzi, Ralph Schraivogel, and Niklaus Troxler. Originally intending to pursue an artistic career, she chose marketing instead and ran her own advertising agency in Zurich's Seefeld district for twenty years. She initially stored her poster treasures under a guest bed before opening her first poster gallery on Zeltweg in the early 2000s.
The turning point came during a trip to the United States about twenty years ago, when Müller discovered a PKZ poster in a shop window. When she inquired about the price, the owner quoted $5,000. Although she declined to purchase it, the experience made her realize the treasure she possessed at home. "The advertising business became increasingly monotonous, and I lacked challenge," Müller explains. "Clients increasingly relied on global campaigns, which reduced creative freedom and financial success."
In 2010, Müller made the decisive choice to abandon the advertising business entirely and dedicate herself to her poster gallery. "It wasn't a heroic decision, but rather a way to find balance between my passion, my values, and other professional activities," she reflects. This transition allowed her to transform her hobby into a flourishing business that celebrates the artistry of poster design.
Swiss posters enjoy worldwide recognition due to their superior quality and craftsmanship. Swiss lithographic techniques were often more sophisticated than those used abroad, and the paper quality was distinctly superior. Swiss lithographic establishments set aside a few copies of each poster series, and when many printing houses closed, these works resurfaced. This contrasts sharply with other countries, where entire printing houses and their poster collections were destroyed during the world wars, or nations like the United States, which lack their own poster tradition.
Two distinct stylistic movements emerged in Switzerland: the Zurich and Basel schools. While Zurich posters emphasized typography and tended toward abstraction, the Basel school focused on realism. The resulting object posters dominated the market, characterized by prominent text lines and realistic representations of individual objects. The goal was to create symbolic images that people would associate with brands, as advertising became increasingly important for businesses.
Müller considers the era of object posters, dominated by the Basel school, as the golden age of poster art. This period ended in the 1940s with the introduction of offset printing. "With stone printing and poster lithography, poster art was still genuine handwork," Müller explains. "Contemporary artists present independent works primarily in cultural posters, but mass-produced offset posters often lack a clearly understandable message for viewers."
The rarity of original posters makes Müller's collection particularly valuable. Today, collectors can practically only acquire pieces when private collections are dissolved. Besides Müller, the Swiss National Library and various museums maintain larger holdings. The Museum für Gestaltung Zurich, for example, boasts a collection of over 385,000 posters, making it one of the world's most comprehensive and significant archives of original posters.
Müller observes a significantly increasing demand for vintage posters, which she attributes to people seeking authenticity in an age of artificial intelligence and renewed appreciation for craftsmanship. "Authenticity is coming back into focus," she notes. This trend reflects a broader cultural shift toward valuing handmade, original works over mass-produced digital content.
In fall 2026, Müller will present part of her significant private collection at Villa Bührle on Zollikerstrasse in Zurich's District 8, the former home of industrialist Emil Bührle's art collection. This exhibition will allow visitors to experience firsthand why this art form has fascinated the collector for so long and why a ban would not only eliminate advertising but also displace a centuries-old cultural form from the cityscape. For Müller, the distinction is clear: "Today's posters cannot be compared in any way to the artworks of the last century."
