In the sea of the city

IN THE SEA OF THE CITY

Cities are pecu­liar for­ma­tions. They are noisy, hec­tic, reck­less, con­fus­ing, emo­tion­al­ly cold, alien­at­ing, and lone­ly. Nev­er­the­less, all cities pre­serve a slice of the seem­ing­ly nat­u­ral­is­tic vil­lage. Their inhab­i­tants are always look­ing for famil­iar set­tings to call home, just like in vil­lages. In the res­i­den­tial build­ing in Berlin-Kreuzberg, where I lived until recent­ly, there was a street kiosk oper­at­ed by a won­der­ful Turk­ish fam­i­ly. It used to sell beer, cig­a­rettes, deter­gent, news­pa­pers, rolls, sausages, cheese, milk, cof­fee, eggs, and choco­lates. Above all, the kiosk was a con­tact point for us – a social meet­ing place, a pub, or a vil­lage well. Over the years, we expe­ri­enced how peo­ple first met there and came togeth­er as they escaped from their soli­tude. We also wit­nessed how peo­ple found hap­pi­ness, drew hope, and received help. We knew all the dogs in the neigh­bour­hood, such as Lady, a stray that used to roam the area and reg­u­lar­ly scrounge from the kebab shops. We met peo­ple who despaired over ris­ing rent and those who suf­fered as a result of alco­hol and drugs. We made friends in this kiosk. We watched how res­i­dents moved away from the area, as they were unable to afford the rent and oth­er peo­ple who came and gave the local­i­ty a facelift. We cel­e­brat­ed togeth­er, danced and drank togeth­er, and even changed our sons’ dia­pers in the back room of the kiosk. The kiosk was our vil­lage square and the neigh­bour­hood was our home.

I grew up in a small town in South­ern Ger­many and moved to Berlin in 1999. Lat­er, when I start­ed to take pic­tures with the city as my muse, I espe­cial­ly cap­tured the res­i­dents and how they arranged their lives. I always try to dis­cov­er the poet­ry of every­day life, such as the moments that make me stop and small scenes that trig­ger sto­ries in the view­er, who reflects on minute details of the per­son por­trayed – who he is, what he is doing, where he comes from, where he is going, what pre­oc­cu­pies him, and what is impor­tant to him.

 If I walk through big cities, my move­ments with­in the city affect my pho­tog­ra­phy. I climb into the sub­way at any sta­tion and get off it some­where else; I meet up with friends, go to the muse­um, the con­cert, and the movies. I get to know peo­ple as I watch strangers. More­over, I have no strict pho­to­graph­ic con­cepts that I wish to imple­ment. Life does not fol­low a con­cept. It is influ­enced by chance, encoun­ters, ideas, and events. As a pho­tog­ra­ph­er, I believe that my role is not to cre­ate order where there is none in life. That is why this book is marked by scenes of encoun­ters and impres­sions of peo­ple and life in gen­er­al. If you com­pare the book with a lit­er­ary form, it would be a book of poet­ry; each pho­to, like each poem, stands on its own, gen­er­ates feel­ings, con­veys impres­sions, and trig­gers thoughts.

 Like­wise, there are also influ­ences of the big city films in my pic­tures. I have been work­ing in the film indus­try for many years and feel affect­ed by films, whether they are from Woody Allen’s New York homages or Wong Kar-Wai’s Hong Kong melo­dra­mas. Some­times, I think of the still pho­tos hang­ing in front of cin­e­mas, which are intend­ed to denote the film’s sto­ry and con­vey its mood.

 Above all, this book high­lights my love of big city life and the peo­ple I meet, but often only observe, and whom I some­times pho­to­graph. In addi­tion, at times, the out­come cap­ti­vates me, draws me towards it, and con­cerns me. The effect strikes my fan­cy and caus­es me to think about the life of the peo­ple I have pho­tographed. Sev­er­al ques­tions arise in my mind with regard to my sub­jects – how they live, whether they are hap­py or lone­ly, and how they spend their time. Some of these pho­tos are marked by the hec­tic rest­less­ness of the metrop­o­lis, while oth­ers cap­ture the silence and thought­ful­ness of city life. Almost all of them express a sin­gu­lar mood: the big city fever.

Jür­gen Bür­gin
An excerpt of: Jür­gen Bür­gin: URBAN FEVER. SCENES FROM CITY LIFE. Berlin 2016.