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Berlin solitud e 8

Editorial Team Batsceba Hardy - chief editor Robert Bannister Michael Kennedy Fabio Balestra

Contributions Michael Dressel Batsceba Hardy Marion Junkersdorf Wolfgang Schreier

Cover Batsceba Hardy

Design Batsceba Hardy Massimo Giacci

The photographies on this magazine are realized by capturing moments of daily life in public places and have been realized without a lucrative purpose with exclusively cultural and artistic intent.

All articles and illustrations contained in the magazine are subjected to copyright. Any form of utilization beyond the narrow limits imposed by the law of copyright and without the express permission of the publisher is forbidden and will be prosecuted. This applies particularly to reproduction, microfilming or the storage and processing in electronic system. Enquiries or material for publication are welcome. We assume no responsibility for unsolicited materials. - Adult Content Š 2019



“I am a camera� Michael Dressel


Berlin: Festivals and Parades Marion Junkersdorf


Loneliness Belongs to the photographer Batsceba Hardy


Die Anderen / The Others Wolfgang Schreier





Michael Dressel: “I am a camera” Michael Kennedy Michael Dressel is an influential street photographer known for his mostly black and white photos of people’s daily lifes in many places of the world. His hometown Berlin still takes a special place in his life and work. Born in 1958, Dressel grew up behind the Iron Curtain in East Berlin, obsessed with film and determined to be a painter. In attempting to escape East Germany, he was captured climbing the Berlin Wall and spent two years in a Stasi prison, years he calls “the most awful, important and formative” of his life. In 1986, Dressel ended up in Los Angeles where he spent 30 years editing sound for movies. During this time he never stopped producing visual art. Dressel’s photography is profoundly human and remarkable because of his ability to crystalize so much in moments that are so fleeting.

Like Christopher Isherwood (1904-1986) before him, the British-American writer hugely influenced by his time in Berlin during the Weimar Republic - who famously described himself as: “I am a camera”, Dressel is no different. “Even without carrying a camera with me,” Dressel said, “I’m constantly scanning my surroundings for constellations that make meaningful images.” A photographer Dressel admires is Jack Delano (19141997), a member of the famous Farm Security Administration (FSA) during The Great Depression that included legendary photographers Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans. Delano quote: “What impels me to click the shutter is not what things look like, but what they mean.” A maxime Dressel agrees with.


Michael Dressel

“Cartier-Bresson talks about the “decisive moment, and I’m striving to be ready for that moment and catch it. A whole archive of images, taken seconds after what I tried to capture had passed, proves the difficulty. This kind of photography forces me to be always aware and I see awareness as a key to experiences and joy in life.” American novelist William Faulkner (1897-1962) said: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” This precept describes Dressel’s appreciation for masters of photography from bygone times. “The more you produce work,” Dressel said, “the more you see in, and learn from, the work of others. I admire Edward Steichen, Lartigue and Cartier-Bresson. I keep looking at Crewdson’s, Koudelka’s and Rudi Meisel’s work.” Another favorite is James Nachtwey, whose images can be extremely painful and exhilarating and are best enjoyed in small doses.” One of Dressel’s favorites is Tazio Secchiaroli (19251998), the inspiration for Federico Fellini’s character of Papparazzo in La Dolce Vita (1960) after him. Although the character’s name quickly gave rise to the notion of the “paparazzi,” as celebrity stalker photographers, Secchiaroli moved on from this style and became best known in Italy for his informal candid portraits of celebrities on film sets. “Secchiaroli’s photos from the set of 8 1/2 are some of my favorites ever,” Dressel said. There is no question that Dressel is the product of two cultures: German and American. “I spent my formative years in East Berlin, German art is what I’m rooted in. Coming to Los Angeles at age 27 felt like a great liberation, artistically. When I arrived, art didn’t seem to matter here. Hollywood reigned supreme. Art was more of a New York thing. So I felt like I didn’t have to live up to anything. I could just do whatever, because nobody cared, anyway.” The Berlin-LA theme is still a large part of his work. Dressel is the first to admit that both LA and Hollywood have been very good to him. For years, he worked as a Sound editor on Hollywood film productions. “I got to work with great people on great films,” Dressel said, “including some of my early heroes like John Schlesinger, the director of The Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner and Day of the Locust. I’m especially proud of having worked on the last 16 Clint Eastwood films. Quite a few films I worked on ended up winning Oscars and Golden Reels for the sound work we did on them.” At the outset of his time in LA, Dressel’s photography was often elaborately staged and highly produced, whereas


this contemporary material reflects an ‘as is’ approach. “My earlier staged works can be seen as my last attempts at painting,” Dressel said. “With the advent of digital photography I realized I could produce images that I didn’t have the technical skills to do as paintings. Things changed once I realized how hard it is to shoot meaningful images of people in the real world. I felt inhibited to photograph people. Initially, this was difficult to overcome - since street photography requires an attitude that must adept to short but intimate encounters with strangers. It is this challenge that still attracts me because it goes way beyond photography, every such encounter has the potential for friendly exchange or conflict. It is a fineline that requires tact and sensitivity toward the situation and the person. One learns a lot about oneself and others that way.” Photographers know that these candid images cannot be produced, only captured and that one must be there and be ready when the moment happens. “I don’t know who said it,” Dressel says, “but I agree with the quote ‘What a good photographer needs more than a good camera is a good pair of shoes.’ This is so true.” According to Dressel, many aspiring and established artists are under pressure to produce work that conforms to the art market in order to make a living. The market wants “New,” and his kind of work has an old fashioned feel. “Another problem,” Dressel says “is that this kind of work isn’t easily produced. It is easier to come up with some conceptual gimmick that doesn’t require skills and isn’t as time consuming. “Fellini is still a big influence,” Dressel said, “and I’ve always loved how he could depict people in the most unflattering way without being condescending. It seemed he was laughing with us because deep down he knew he was as much a tragic joke as the rest of us. I wish to be like that.” Dressel doesn’t confess to preconceived ideas about what he wants to express with his images. “I am not religious or spiritual,” he said. “I could never even figure out what that is supposed to mean. But I do believe in magic. And for me the magic is what happens when I am pointing a camera at life and freeze a few hundredths of a second into an image. Afterwards that image turns into this thing that communicates what I think and feel about the world. This magic allows me to photograph myself into the world.”

Michael Dressel


Michael Dressel

An interview by Batsceba Hardy When was the last time you visited Berlin? And how often do you maintain contact with people from that part of your past? I’m in Berlin several times a year and still have quite a few old and new friends in town. I’m in touch all the time and am very much aware of what’s going on in the city. Each city is like a different body, which has its own history and physiognomy, expands and changes, so what difference did you find in the body of Berlin, today on your return, compared to the Berlin of your childhood and youth? The East Berlin I grew up in felt like the corpse of a formerly much bigger city that had been thoroughly destroyed and to make it worse, divided by a deadly wall. I spent large parts of my childhood and youth wandering through the city exploring every courtyard, basement, stairway and attic I could get into. I was always armed with a sketchbook and drew the places I liked most. There were still plenty of ruins, war damaged buildings and many rubble strewn and overgrown lots where whole blocks had been blown up during the bombings in WWII. I saw the scars of a tumultuous history and the war wherever I looked and it stimulated my imagination greatly. After I left East Berlin and wasn’t allowed to ever return, I ended up on the other side of the wall in West Berlin. It was strange to see the other half of your hometown for the first time after 25 years. It looked like Berlin, it smelled like Berlin and the people had the same language and attitude. But it was all unknown to me. It was indeed a different world and society. I got to learn my hometown from scratch for a second time as an Immigrant in my own city. This time the capitalist version of it. It helped to earn my living as a taxi driver for a while. There is no faster way to get


to know a city than that. West Berlin was an Island completely surrounded by the wall. Whichever direction you took you would end up at the wall eventually. This wall shaped everything about the city and the psyche of the people living in it and it coming down in 1989 made an enormous change in the character of the place and the people. Today’s Berlin has less and less of the empty unused and abandoned spaces it had in the ’70s and ’80s. West Berlin used to be an island. The city was kept artificially alive by West German subsidies. There were a lot of old people and a lot of young people, not much in the middle. People hoping for careers would leave the place for greener pastures. A lot of young men that didn’t want to be drafted to the military moved to Berlin because of the post war status inhabitants of West Berlin didn’t have to serve in the West German army. West Berlin was a trashy looking play ground for artists musicians and all kinds of other crazy and interesting people. The city had many places that could be used for anything people could think up and there was a freeing sense of lawlessness. It was also dirt cheap to live there. That is now changing. Even though it’s still a bargain compared to cities like NY, Paris or London. Today’s Berlin is a play ground again. This time for the children of the wealthy from all over the world that use the city to play Boheme with the money of their parents. Artists are drawn to the city because it still has a stimulating energy and a critical mass of talent and opportunities. It’s still cheaper than most other big cities. The international speculators also have discovered Berlin as a bargain and are changing the face of the city like any other desirable hip city in the world. A big change in demographics happened since Berlin has returned to being the capital of Germany with the seat of the parliament and the government. It’s not a backwater with plenty of room for outsiders any more. Obviously Berlin will always be special to me but I do watch with regret how it is changing more

Michael Dressel

and more into something less unique. I’m sure that is also a result of the Internet which is grinding down regional differences all over the world. Thinking of Odysseus, the return is more important than the outward journey, and even more adventurous. Was it like this or was it not for you? And also, in general, the return is a topical moment for everyone. For you too? There is no real return because the place you left doesn’t exist anymore when you come back to it. In my case the country I grew up in is completely gone. The physical location still exists but the country does not anymore. I am used to constant change and in going back and forth I stay sensitized to the changes in both places and observe them. I enjoy being away from a place for a while and notice what has changed when I return. I always felt it isn’t good to stay at a place for too long if one wants to keep a sharp eye for what’s going on. What differences do you find between a city like Berlin and a city like Los Angeles where you lived a lot? Do I also mean in general between Europe and the United States? Los Angeles is quite different from European cities but


also from other older American cities, especially NY which Jim Jarmusch once called jokingly “the capital of Europe”. I like this absurd statement. To me it means that NY is basically a European city on steroids. It’s easy to get around in and it’s accessible. LA is a whole different animal. Berlin is a medium sized city while LA is a megacity. The sheer size of the place means for example that LA has no big problem with tourism like European cities that are tourism magnets. LA is so large that tourists can’t really explore it thoroughly because that would require an enormous amount of time, which very few have. LA cannot be overtaken by a wave of tourism like Venice, Florence or Barcelona. It’s difficult to find your way around. A car is required for everything and the public transit is not efficient and frequented mostly by the poor. Most tourists are bewildered and can’t get fast enough into their rental car to go to the National Parks and get away from that scary intimidating place. I enjoy the vastness of this urban spread tremendously. You can explore forever. It is a huge opaque adventure playground. And did I mention the climate? That alone is a reason for me to be here. When I’m in Berlin I enjoy great public transportation and the fact that I don’t have to drive. It always makes me laugh when I encounter LA haters of which there are plenty. It’s fine with me as long as they promise not to move here. The traffic is bad enough. I like to enjoy each place for what is

Michael Dressel

good about it. I guess variety is the spice of life. If and when you do street photography in Berlin, are the subjects accepting, guarded or antagonistic about your efforts? How different the people in Berlin and LA are becomes very clear when one does street photography. It is more difficult but obviously not impossible in Berlin. Many Germans have subscribed to the (in my view absurd) idea that they have a right to privacy while moving around in public. The laws in the EU back that view. That paired with a mentality that enjoys to tell people what they can do and what not, can get you quickly into trouble. I don’t really have many problems because I know the mentality and am quiet good at judging individuals and situations. The potential for trouble makes it all the more exciting. It’s always a challenge to go out and encounter people, wherever you are. In general people are not as relaxed and easy going as in most other places. That doesn’t apply to all obviously and I usually find the simple truth vindicated that people respond well to being treated friendly and with respect.

Naturally I have seen their films but I was never a big fan of Fassbinder or Werner Herzog. I like Wenders and especially his Wings of desire. The original title was Der Himmel über Berlin (“The sky above Berlin”) which came out after I already had lived for a few years in Los Angeles. I still love that film. It expresses exactly how I remember the Berlin of my youth and how I felt about the city. I still watch it sometimes. It’s a true masterpiece.

The city (the buildings, the spaces, the sky) helps or is an obstacle? Sorry that question doesn’t make sense to me. In view of Berlin’s history during the last century, are young people on the street sanguine, melancholy, nonchalant? It’s like in most other big cities. Although it is startling to me how little German one hears spoken in the streets of the inner city and on public transportation. As you have worked in the Hollywood film industry for three decades or more, were you ever influenced by the films of Wim Wenders, Rainer Fassbinder and Werner Herzog during the New German cinema - either in your youth in East Berlin - or later in America?


Michael Dressel


Michael Dressel


Michael Dressel


Michael Dressel


Michael Dressel


Michael Dressel


Loneliness Belongs to the Photographer Batsceba Hardy Everyone talks about Berlin, everyone seeks it, everyone loves it. It has become a haven for writers, musicians, photographers, artists in general, young people who seek asylum and manage to survive. Although lately they are transforming it into a city like any other, consumerist and deprived of its soul. However, I also found refuge in this city. In ten years I have changed three houses, but always in the same district of Prenzlaurberg. And in this shelter, I wrote a short story and a book and I started taking pictures again. In the 1970s, I was a professional photographer, but I put away the machines when I became a mother. I worked on myself, on my body, like when I was young, and I went around with a small camera and documented everything. I observed the city with the eyes of the stranger, but I

breathed a familiarity of smells and architectures related to my German origins. I started to pick up the camera (a Casio of my daughter), then a friend gave me a small Olympus and I gradually transformed myself into a street photographer. It happened in this city that was not my hometown, where my point of view is free from all the parameters and preconceptions that develop naturally in the known places. What I perceived in this new urban landscape was an intense feeling of loneliness. In this city, symbol of happiness for all, I saw everywhere sadness, I perceived it deeper in some squares, streets, I read it on the faces of U-Bahn passengers. They warned me that it was forbidden to take pictures on public transport, but I learned to get around invisible in the crowd and I never had any problems. Not even a few years later when I bought a bulky Nikon with a small zoom.


Batsceba Hardy

East Berlin was the most sacrificed by gentrification. In my ten years I have seen almost all the neighborhood bars disappear, the small shops have given way to shoe shops, small elite boutiques, and the artisans have lost their workshops. I arrived in a city where people could still be seen working behind the windows and I left a city where the usual merchandise always appears in the windows. With my photographs I told ten years of a city in transformation. I have seen holes filled with houses that have lost every Berlin feature. The amazing thing is that in this city I found the magic of synchronicity and I told it in my books, talking about places that do not exist in one reality, but exist in another. Here some tracks to accompany my photographs. From “La vita è stanca” Even the clouds run over our heads. The upper layer in one verse, the lower one in the other, creating a multiplicity of shapes in continuous change. Some are frayed in the blue: small islands that sail alone The train suddenly comes out in the open. Like a bird from the water. I lean back and look at the houses that line the roadbed as if to imprint their succession in my memory. The yellow one with the sloping roof, the white one with the flowery balconies and then the gray one with the crack that crosses it like a badly healed stab. The recorded voice announces my stop. In the open, I no longer want to close in a tram. I challenge the wind, my hands stuck in the pockets of my jacket. Point towards the buildings that rise above the void like a swollen sail that follows the North Star.


From “the Apartment” Everybody talks about Berlin, even too much. Everybody eventually comes here. Only few learn German. And even fewer stay. It’s a gateway city. For me, it was my destination. … my apartment, a fourth floor walk-up on Danziger Straße, between Prenzlauer Allee and Schönhauser Allee. Sunny side of one of those rare gray buildings, a residue of the DDR, standing who knows for how long, enduring the pressure of the renoviert and saniert where spiders have woven extremely long cobweb highways along the external pipes, wide and narrow, horizontal and vertical. Emma. An old leather suitcase stood beside her, like those you find at Trödelmarkt in Arkonaplatz. She wore a polka-dotted white and blue dress, fifties’ style, and a small hat with a veil over her head. Her shoes must have been second hand, slightly longer than her foot, with the tip pointed up and the heels worn… She didn’t look Italian either. French, maybe. Not German. Too petite, with brown hair and white hands. She fit perfectly in into the city. Berlin is home for those who are out of time; you see them on buses, in parks, in clubs. And you always notice them, but you never think of them as ridiculous or out of place, as you would if you were in Milan, or even Paris and London where oddity is almost the norm. These people wear the Senhsucht net, which interweaves the lives of the city. A kind of peaceful sadness dripping from the sky, almost always white. Unaccountable. It spills over cellars and sidewalks. You can breathe it in parks, by the lakesides. And pass through it with lightness, because you cannot be sadder than sadness itself.

Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Batsceba Hardy


Berlin Festivals and Parades Marion Junkersdorf These days Berlin is enormously popular, with 10 million visitors in 2018. If people haven’t been here already, Berlin is frequently high on their list.

Greek mythology and had established a vibrant cultural atmosphere. Artists like David Bowie and Iggy Pop set up camp in the Schöneberg district of West Berlin.

When I grew up it wasn’t like that. There was the stereotype of “the ugly German”, Germany had two world wars as heavy baggage and the main buzzwords connected with being German were “Bratwurst” und “Sauerkraut” (and if things went badly, “Blitzkrieg”).

With nearly two million people crammed into 480 square km² of space, West Berlin was home to a quite unique mix of people including Berlin “aboriginees,“ mixed with young men from West Germany who didn't want to serve in the German military, with migrants from around the globe who studied at one of the two universities, the soldiers of the Allied Forces, and those simply attracted by this very particular situation that was West Berlin. Nowadays Berliners in general are notoriously “cool,” usually dressed in black and vigorously toeing the line

Although mainly serving the purpose of being the Western bastion against the Russians in the decades-long Cold War, West Berlin was quite trendy by the 1980s. The city had gradually risen from the ashes like the Phoenix of


Marion Junkersdorf


Marion Junkersdorf

between understatement and bad taste. Yet there are some occasions where Berliners tend to relax: festivals and parades like the Carnival of Cultures, the Christopher Street Day Parade and the Labor Day Parade. For more than 20 years, Berlin has celebrated the Carnival of Cultures on the weekend of Pentecost. Celebrations start on Friday afternoon with music on four stages, ranging from Balkan Beats to African music, Latin sounds, and Klezmer and more. The children’s parade takes place on Saturday, the main parade is on Sunday and the whole program ends on Monday afternoon. In contrast to the Notting Hill Carnival in London, the children’s parade is relatively small and truly for children until early adolescence. The main parade, however, starts on Sunday around noon. Organizers of this annual tradition strive to make the Carnival “a joyful statement in favor of an open and intercultural society.” Many groups are ethnically oriented: Chinese dragons, Latin dancers, and others reflecting different political or social backgrounds. There are lots of colors, costumes, people dancing, and it's a great occasion to celebrate life. What is celebrated annually in many major cities world-

wide as Pride Parade, is called Christopher Street Day (CSD) in Berlin. The CSD is held in memory of the Stonewall Riots, the first big uprising of LGBT people against police assaults that took place at the Stonewall Inn, a bar on New York City’s Christopher Street on June 28, 1969. It is actually my favorite parade, as the LGBTQ community is one of the most creative, joyful and inclusive. Nothing will stop this community from partying and having fun. In 2017, the parade faced a terrible rain. Yet instead of cancelling the event, participants embraced the moment, determined to party even more (probably in an attempt to warm up again after getting soaking wet). Moreover, the LGBTQ community always manages to convey its political concerns in a humorous and convincing manner at the CSD. In Germany, Labor Day is on May 1st, and parades that day have a long history of riots, especially in the district of Kreuzberg in the 1980s. By 2003, the community most affected by the riots took ownership of what happened in their neighborhood and decided to give the celebrations a new framework in the form of the Myfest (“my” being pronounced the same way as the month of May in German).


Marion Junkersdorf


Marion Junkersdorf


Marion Junkersdorf


Marion Junkersdorf


Die Anderen - The Others Wolfgang Schreier Translation by Marion Junkersdorf

I remember the clicking sound of my camera’s shutter release, it felt like yesterday. Recall 1967: student protests in the streets, Benno Ohnesorg was shot by a policeman in Berlin while protesting against the visit of the Shah of Iran. American President Lyndon B. Johnson continued the non-stop bombardment of Vietnam. And in Bolivia, Ernesto Che Guevara was executed by the military without trial. It was summer and very hot even before Noon. I looked for new motifs for the Fuldaer Volkszeitung, one of two newspapers in the city of Fulda. I was 19 years old and had been taking photos since age 14. I had brought one of my SLRs, an Exakta Varex.

For the first time, I roamed a place that many today would call a “no-go area”. The residents of Fulda called it the “Sand Hollow,” where people lived in shabby barracks made of wood or bricks, or in trailers. It is mainly Sinti and Roma who lived there, many single mothers, youths, refugees from the East, soldiers returning late from the war. They lived in precarious conditions in the otherwise bourgeois city, near the East German border. At first, I kept my distance. I was still on a slightly ascending road to the “Down Barracks,” as the American military camp was called. I looked down from above, from a safe distance, on to the barracks between the trees. Among the bushes I detected something like a playground.


Wolfgang Schreier

There was a slide on the right-hand side and a balance beam in the middle, attached to the ground. And further to the right, there was a car wrecklying on its roof. An American streetcruiser. There was broken glass everywhere, glittering in the sunshine. Not exactly a motif for the feature section of the newspaper, but the view pulled me in magically. I proceeded down the slope and stood in front of the car wreck. On the balance beam in front of me there was a small, fair-haired boy, I hadn’t seen him before. Quickly I held the camera before my eyes and took two photos. It was very quiet and the sound of the rear oscillating mirror in the camera appeared extremely loud as it snapped back into its original position. My first shots in the “Sand Hollow”. I had been so excited, I forgot all about the light meter hanging around my neck. At the time, I only had two lenses for my Exakta Varex, one 50 mm 2.8 f Tessar and a 25 mm 4f Flektogon Zeiss lens. The 25 mm lens was ideal for my venture into the playground at the “Sand Hollow”. Pic Playground (PS_KB-67_005_20a) From the corner of my eye I saw curtains moving. Just a couple of minutes later I was surrounded by a group of youths and children. I held my camera in front of my chest like a shield and clicked several shots instinctively, without looking through the viewfinder. Somehow, though, the atmosphere didn’t feel hostile or distrustful. About five minutes later, the first adult appeared. He had never heard of or seen someone showing up at the “Sand Hollow” with a camera wanting to take photos. But how would the others react? Among the barracks, there was a kiosk which served as like a marketplace, the main meeting point of the people of the “Sand Hollow”. You could even leave your children there, if you had important business outside the Hollow. We sat down at two tables beneath a parasol. I ordered two beers, and we started talking. Pic KIOSK (PS_KB_004_15) We agreed to meet again at the kiosk two days later.


I developed the first film, Tri-X 400, that very same evening. I was quite excited. Should I go for push development and extend the ASA to 800 ... or even 1600? My standard film developer had always been Kodak D76. It provided the bes t resul ts in my e xperience. It was very difficult to judge the quality of the negatives merely by looking at them with a naked eye. Only by enlarging them on paper, - making a contact sheet, could one see the actual technical quality of the photos. One thing was certain: for my next visit to the “Sand Hollow”, I would definitely take my 6x6 camera, a PRAKTISIX. After more than 50 years, we have managed to restore the dignity of the people living at the “Sand Hollow” in the exhibition “DIE ANDEREN” (THE OTHERS). We gave them faces. One example from the guest book entries: “For me, it was an amazing experience to obtain information about history that way. Geographically it was far away from where I live but certainly something similar was or is to be found in every city in Germany. It will be unforgettable how the photos suddenly started to “speak” and even though the photos are black and white, they have a “colorful vitality” to them”. Overall, I took around 200 photos within two or three days in that bygone era at the “Sand Hollow“. For the exhibition “DIE ANDEREN”, my curator, Helmut Kopetzky, selected 35. The digitalized negatives were printed as FinArtPrints in a 50 x 60 cm format on Baryt paper. More than 50 years later, the photos found their way back to Fulda: Their message: don’t look away! Look closely! More than 880 visitors came to see the exhibition between May 6 and June 24, 2018 at the Kunstverein gallery. For the descendants of the Sinti who once lived at the Sand Hollow, the exhibition “DIE ANDEREN” was a major emotional experience. Many saw their parents and grandparents for the first time. They kissed the photos, some cried, some danced for joy. For many people of the city of Fulda it was the first time that they glimpsed a world which they had refused to see before.

Wolfgang Schreier


Wolfgang Schreier


Wolfgang Schreier


Wolfgang Schreier


Wolfgang Schreier


Wolfgang Schreier



Progressive Street was realised by Batsceba Hardy from a love of Street photography from roots within the Deviant Art site. It started its life as a group on FB in early 2017 with the entry of Robert Bannister, Michael Kennedy and Fabio Balestra, and has assumed its current form at the beginning of 2018.

We are an Art Gallery: streets all over the World, a sight of reality, the eyes of the street. We show the effects of globalization. We are a look at the Globalized World. Photography as ethnography, our ethos is an anthropological, sociological, social vision. “Progressive-Street is an international community of street photographers and photo reporters that mix the art of photography in a multi-faced way to document the effects of globalization through their lenses.” We are focus on the ethnical, social and cultural events across the globe - thanks to our net of high-class photographers that cover areas from big cities to the smallest towns, sharing the places and stories of people that cover endless cultures in this pageant of humanity. Our strength is derived from the independence of the photographers who become members after a severe process of selection concerning authenticable feelings, identity, ethical behavior and quality about the photography. We reach a global audience thanks to Progressive-Street’s use of mainstream social platforms. And now we have our own site where one can find cutting-edge photofeatures and articles, plus incisive biographies of the photographers, personal galleries, and how to subscribe to our magazine. “Progressive-Street is a photography gang dedicated to the visual narrative of the street.” We go to the street for images that resonate with compelling insights of the human condition. We seek images that reflect truths without the slick professionalism of the photojournalist. We strive for an authenticity that is uncompromised and yet aesthetically beautiful. We respect tradition but are not afraid of the currents of change. We are truly international in both our background and in our purpose. “We are Progressive-Street.”

Progressive-Street is a ‘gang’ of international photographers looking at the other side, yes, but it is in this world.


Roberto Di Patrizi

Fabio Balestra

(In)World -

- Stories

Ohad Aviv

Mahesh Krishnamurthy

Edita Sabalionyte

Angel Rodriguez

Patrick Merino

Takanori Tomimatsu

in this issue Michael Dressel Born in East Berlin in 1958, he spent his time behind the Iron Curtain painting, photographing and cavorting with fellow dissidents. After trying to escape from the East by climbing the Wall and being caught he was send to prison for two years. Upon completion of this exercise in character building and more troubles with the authorities, they realized he had become too much of a nuisance and kicked him out of the workers paradise. Two years in West Berlin followed before he was washed up on the shores of Los Angeles were he is still toiling in obscurity.

Batsceba Hardy Artist of irreality, she writes stories in images and tells visions in words. Anyway, “artist” of the Irreality, means: to be able to stand outside, beyond. Living perpetually in the interspaces, those that can be caught by the lens or by the words, having no borders, obligations. In many of her writings she speaks of invisibility, transparency. And also in her photographic works she speaks of empty and full. Of absence.

Marion Junkersdorf is a West-Berlin aboriginee and loves Berlin. But it's an open relationship, she loves many other places, too. There is so much to discover, so much to experience. She started street photography and light-Hunting four years ago, a passion and love that hit her unexpectedly.

Wolfgang Schreier lives and works in Dortmund. He has received numerous awards for his work and has had exhibitions in Germany and abroad. In 2017 he was appointed Ordinary Member of the German Society for Photography (DGPh).

Progressive Gang: Batsceba Hardy, Michael Kennedy, Robert Bannister, Fabio Balestra, Abrar Asad, Alexander Merc, Alphan ˇ Yilmazmaden, Anat Shushan, Bogo Pecnikar, Boy Jeconiah, Don Scott, Don Trammell, Edita Sabalionyte, Gerri McLaughlin, Harrie Miller, Hila Rubinshtein, Inés Madrazo Delgado, Jinn Jyh Leow, Karlo Flores, Kevin Lim, Lukasz Palka, Marco DM, Marion Junkersdorf, Mark Guider, Niklas Lindskog, Orlando Durazzo, Peppe Di Donato, Roberto Di Patrizi, Siddhartha Mukherjee, Stefania Lazzari

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Progressive-Street is a "gang" of international photographers looking at the other side, yes, but it is in this world. We are an Art Galler...

ProgressivE-zine #8  

Progressive-Street is a "gang" of international photographers looking at the other side, yes, but it is in this world. We are an Art Galler...