Photo: The Three Sisters

“Primitive Rock ‘n’ Roll and Fine food” is the Three Sisters’ motto. However, upon entering the restaurant, one senses there is nothing primitive about this place.

It looks more like an old style ballroom reminiscent of the American South, with its high lofty ceilings, whitewashed walls, long oak bar, and a small stage with a grand piano. (This Southern American felt quite at home, at least…)

Three Sisters is another example of the growing number of Berlin spaces where art and food collide happily. With its unique fusion of blues-style swing music and traditional German cuisine, this young venture is a testament to the city’s ingenuity when it comes to the arts – including the art of eating well.

My first encounter with the restaurant was bittersweet: a farewell dinner for a colleague and dear friend. We had both heard about the restaurant through our Slow Food network and anticipated quality food of the traditional German variety; that the latter is not necessarily something the faint of heart is definitely something to bear in mind here – one can easily split entrées and appetizers and leave feeling very satisfied.

Photo: The Three Sisters

With traditional dishes such as pickled herring, pork roast with coleslaw and dumplings, spaetzle, and schnitzel with asparagus, the Three Sisters’ menu manages to remain authentic and interesting.

More importantly, it makes a concerted effort to source locally. Much of its produce comes from its native Kreuzberg neighborhood. The fish comes from the Hal and the wine from an array of smaller producers. Although the apple-fed pig is not certified organic, it is the next best thing.

“We’re young,” explains Wolfgang Sinhart, one of the owners alongside White Trash Fast Food ‘s Michael Bohl. “Only ten months old, so we are just learning. But we make a concerted effort when it comes to quality ingredients. This goes for the music too. We want a space where things can happen fluidly and naturally but we also have to set the bar high. Our food is good and I think it will get better in time. We look forward to meeting new producers, sourcing wine from other regions and testing out new recipes. I think of it as a learning experience. Plus, we’re not beholden to German cuisine. Our chef Patrick Pecker is good at branching out and drawing from other influences. He worked in a vegetarian restaurant for a couple of years and likes to incorporate different ingredients into his cooking. This pairs well with the more traditional stuff we feature on the menu.”

Our meal began with two fantastic appetizers: the pickled herring and the cheese spaetzle. The herring was minced and came with a Granny Smith and radish herb rémoulade with fried potatoes on the side. It was neither too heavy nor too light and went down well with my glass of Gruner Vertliner.

We followed these with schnitzel and white asparagus with hollandaise sauce. The asparagus was just as hearty as the schnitzel and the hollandaise sauce was a nice complement. Incredibly we managed a dessert as well – an apple crumble with more fruit than crust and a light swirl of vanilla syrup.

“We try to change the menu two times in each season,” comments Sinhart. “However, this could easily change in the next year but for now we’re happy with the current momentum and direction. We want this place to remain casual but at the same time inviting. Thus far, we seem to draw in clientele who want to sit down and have a nice meal as well as clientele that are younger and more interested in the music aspect. Interestingly enough, it works. The neat thing is this place supports that.” 

Photo: The Three Sisters

The Three Sisters is open six days a week for lunch and dinner as well as brunch on the weekends. There is also an ice cream stand located outside in front of the building, a perfect destination for summer park goers. The ice cream is both local and organic, from Tage in Krezuberg. And if you’re craving something else sweet, there is always coffee and cake in the afternoon.

The restaurant has some interesting associations too. Located in Marianplatz 2 (in Kreuzberg), it was once part of an old hospital; its name is hence a tribute to the nuns who once lived and worked there, as well as a nod to Bohl’s favorite Chekhov play.

The Three Sisters
Mariannenplatz 2
10997 Berlin – Kreuzberg
Tel: 030 600 318 600
Map

Photo courtesy of Cafe Hilde

My first encounter with Café Hilde was on a dark and wet winter night back in January. The streets outside glistened with snow and rain rapped at the windows like a lunatic insect as I sipped wine with friends and listened in hushed silence to a voice from the past.

The voice belonged to Orson Welles – to a 1938 radio broadcast of him reading from Joseph Conrad’s Heart Of Darkness to be precise. Welles’ voice, wrapped atmospherically in the old recording’s hisses and crackles, merged atmospherically with the rain, holding the entire café rapt.

Hilde was new then, but the place has since maintained an impressive dedication to merging interesting cultural events with decent food, some of the friendliest service in Berlin and a great ambiance.

While located on the corner of Metzerstrasse and busy Prenzlauer Allee, it’s just far enough from the Mitte multitudes and the weekend Kollwitzplatz crowds to feel a bit sanctuary-esque.

The sizeable interior is well lit by large south- and east-facing windows (sit near the door and you can see the Friedhof der Sankt Marien und Nicolaigemeinde on the other side of the main road), and decorated with a farrago of tables and chairs, photos of multiple Hildes on the wall, and strategically placed piles of books and international reading material.

Photo courtesy of Cafe Hilde

While this may sound like many other ‘retro-chic’ Berlin hangouts, Hilde’s pristine newness, its charming interplay of light and space, erudite choice of books, considered background music (and its non-smoking policy), create a slightly more cultivated milieu – one that’s perfect for a rendezvous with a good book, an intimate chat over coffee or wine or a convivial lunch or dinner with friends (outside street seating also available).

Which brings us to the menu. The coffee’s good – two Brazilian fair-trade blends are on offer in a variety of styles – and the food, while staying within the realm of café fare, is above average.

Owner Kristina Hoppe lived in Ireland for many years and her nostalgia runs through the menu in the shape of hearty Irish breakfasts served at the weekend (a British ex-pat carnivore’s dream-come-true featuring sausages, bacon, black and white pudding, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, toast and butter – but no beans) to Barry’s Irish tea and the Guinness and Kilkenny Ale on offer.

Vegetarians are catered for with colourful meat-free breakfast platters, vegetable soups during lunch and salads and pasta dishes in the evening.

Foto von Cafe Hilde

Throughout the day you can also indulge in Hoppe’s home-made sweet treats, which range from flapjacks, brownies, apple tart and cheesecakes – and a chocolate vegan fudge so devilish it should come with a trident instead of a fork.

Evenings are equally enjoyable thanks to Hilde’s interesting range of events, from excellent book readings put on by Dialogue to film nights and more. The wine list is decent, including some organic choices; and since the summer has opted to deliquesce somewhat abruptly into winter, those cosy radio broadcasts should be starting up again soon too…

Café Hilde
Metzer Strasse 22 (Prenzlauer Berg)
10405 Berlin
Tel: 030 (0) 40 50 41 72
Open: Mon-Fri: 9-24; Sat-Sun: 10-24

About The Author

Paul Sullivan is a Berlin-based writer & travel photographer and the founder of Slow Travel Berlin. You can check out his personal website here and some of his photography galleries here.

KW Gallery, Auguststrasse

Berlin’s Auguststrasse isn’t short on galleries. This well known Mitte street is a main artery for contemporary art in the city, long ago earning the sobriquet “East Berlin’s art mile” for its impressive wealth of independent galleries that line both sides of the street and show everything from sculpture and fine art to photography.

Of all the street’s venues, the Kunst Werke Institute For Contemporary Arts at number 69 is perhaps the most acclaimed. The former margarine factory, built in the late 19^th century, was seized as an art space in the early 1990s by Klaus Biesenbach and his posse of young art enthusiasts. It‘s opening was a major factor in the development of this area as an artistic hub, and Biesenbach and his colleagues have worked hard to maintain its reputation as one of the city’s best places to see cutting-edge works.

Pass through the (listed) 18^th century façade and you’ll find yourself in a gorgeous courtyard, worn-smooth cobbles underfoot, chestnut trees dangling overhead. The modern, glass-walled building on the left is Café Bravo, designed by American artist Dan Graham and architecturally realized in collaboration with Hanne Nalbach. It’s a great place for a breakfast or lunch, even if you’re not visiting the gallery.

KW Gallery courtyard

Behind lies the restored factory-cum-art-space, which together with the white-cube style exhibition hall added by Berlin architect Hans Düttmann, consists of a whopping 2,000 square meters, extending over five floors. (Included in that figure are six artist studios, located in the front side wings).

Testament to its commitment to stay at the edgier end of art spectrum, KW has no permanent collection, but instead acts as a “testing ground” for emerging artists (many from Berlin and Germany), and as an exhibition space for international works. Over the years it has hosted a slew of major names from Doug Aitken and Dinos & Jake Chapman to Paul Pfeiffer, Santiago Sierra and Keren Cytter.

There are often additional events at KW such as talks, screenings or concerts, and the gallery enjoys close links with other international spaces with a similar ethos – the P.S.1/MoMA in New York, for example, and the Venice Biennale. In 1997 the KW initiated their own Biennale, which is still going strong. In fact the 6^th edition  - sponsored by KW – started on June 11^th and will run until August 8^th. More details on specific exhibitions and happenings can be found here.

If you feel like taking in more of Auguststrasse’s art scene, check out galleries like Eigen + ART, Galerie Gerken, Berlin Art Projects and Deschler.

KW Institute for Contemporary Art
Auguststr. 69
10117 Berlin-Mitte
Tel: 030 243 4590
Open: Tue–Sun 12–19; Thur 12– 21.

Café Bravo
Open: Mon: 9–20; Tue-Sat 9-End; Sun:10–20
Tel: 030 234 57777

About The Author

Paul Sullivan is a Berlin-based writer & travel photographer and the founder of Slow Travel Berlin. You can check out his personal website here and some of his photography galleries here.

“History is written by the victors”, Winston Churchill once said, and as someone living in Britain in the 1970s and 1980s I grew up with an interpretation that deemed the Germans humourless warmongers whose crimes should never be forgotten. In the playground, the word ‘Nazi’ was virtually interchangeable with ‘German’.

The ‘propaganda’ of the war-associated films and comic books I consumed as a child was so deeply ingrained that even when my father’s job took him to the north of the country I remained suspicious of perfectly pleasant locals. But such attitudes are far from uncommon: even now English crowds chant “Two World Wars and one World Cup” at football matches against German teams. The most recent of these triumphs might have been 1966, but it seems that some of my compatriots are in little hurry to put the past behind them.

All the same (and perhaps, in hindsight, it was precisely because of such attitudes), I moved to Berlin six years ago, possibly under the illusion that Berlin is a state of mind rather than the capital of Germany. I wandered its streets for hours at a time, eyes drawn to the pockmarked facades of houses that still bore the scars of war, head whirling at the photos of bombed-out devastation exhibited within the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächtniskirche, tear ducts threatening to leak within the Checkpoint Charlie Museum.

I’d never looked at the city from this angle before. I reveled in its multiculturalism, its acceptance of Bohemian lifestyles and its willingness to accept its past. I devoured books like Christopher Hilton’s The Wall: The People’s Story, or Ian McEwan’s The Innocent, much of it set in Adalbertstrasse close to my apartment. I began to think of Berlin as a living organism, complex and contradictory, the sum of all of its inhabitants past, present and future, and slowly I realised that, as the 2001 film says, “Berlin is in Germany”. Like every race, the Germans are not a nation so much as a collection of people living within one country’s borders, their behaviour and opinions varied. My view of its citizens had been contaminated by a one-sided and outdated version of events long since past.

Edgar Reitz’s epic 1984 TV series Heimat is the perfect antidote for those suffering a similar affliction, 63 years of German history unfolding over almost 1000 minutes in the fictional village of Schabback in the Hunsrück region near the Rhine. Telling the story of the Simon family, it offers an understated depiction of their struggles and victories as, first and foremost, human beings. It’s a compulsive and sympathetically tender account of much of the 20^th century from the perspective of a German filmmaker seeking to free history from moral judgement and melodrama. The war years are given no greater weight than those that came before or after.

Beginning at the end of the First World War and ending in 1982, it contextualises the country’s social mores, technological advances, political upheavals and human tragedies amidst the minutiae of everyday life, from berry-picking to bomb defusals, from gentrification to prostitution, from pesticides to genocide. It’s fiction, of course, and rural life as envisioned by Reitz may arguably at times be somewhat romanticised, but given the manner that (for instance) British and American films have ‘tweaked’ understanding of the country’s history, this hardly stands up as criticism. Heimat is, you could say, history written by the losers. For those not familiar with such a thing, it’s a revelation.

Director Edgar Reitz, 2006 (Wikipedia)

Heimat is also ideal ‘slow television’, its pace completely at odds with contemporary mainstream styles. Instead of the breakneck speed with which today’s TV shows are edited, Reitz credits his audience with lengthy attention spans, teasing stories out of banality, lingering on shots of landscapes and interiors, refusing to tie up loose ends, shifting gently from black and white to colour throughout. It leaves room to breathe yet remains constantly engaging, its themes resonating across generations and borders.

Surprisingly, despite the fact that Heimat is considered internationally to be one of the finest television programmes ever made, it remains something of a secret within its own country. Perhaps its brushstrokes are too broad for those with an intimate knowledge of Germany, or maybe its nostalgia is too sentimental for those with a deeper understanding of the land’s culture. But given that Heimat takes its name, at least in part, from a form of post-war cinema that leaned heavily on provincial life and nature this is surely forgivable.

Churchill may have had a point (though ironically he may not have been the first to say it), but that’s all the more reason to seek out new perspectives, and those of us who have adopted this country as our home can find an admirable one in Heimat.

The follow up films Heimat 2 and Heimat 3 are now also available. You can read an interview with Reitz about Heimat 3 in The Guardian here. A longer 1991 interview with Reitz for Sight & Sound has been archived here.

About The Author

Wyndham Wallace has lived in Berlin since 2004, having spent the previous eight years running the UK office of Berlin’s City Slang Records. He works as a music and travel journalist (The Guardian, Uncut, BBC Music, The Quietus and more), and has contributed photographs to a number of publications. You can read more of his work here.

I was born in a small town near Cologne in West Germany. After an apprenticeship as a stonemason I travelled to Italy, then took a degree in architecture from RWTH Aachen. During all that time, and especially during my architectural studies, I used sketchbooks. I worked as a tutor alongside Professor Heiner Hoffmann, who put a strong emphasis on filling sketchbooks with observational drawings as an essential part of architectural education.

Sketch: Rolf Schroeter

During these Aachen days we were a group of very intense sketchers. We looked at, and commented on, each others work very passionately and there was a competitive spirit that kept things going. The multifaceted surroundings of Aachen, Belgium and Liege and other towns in the Netherlands like Maastricht  were very useful for sketching day trips.

I finished my studies in 2000, moved to Berlin and started a family – we had our first daughter in 2001. Without the challenging presence of my co-sketching friends and with the new needs of a young family, sketching fell into the background. I worked in Berlin first as an architect, then since 2003 at the illustration studio of Markus Junker. In my work as an architect and even more as an illustrator, sketching is an important part of the process, but this “design” sketching is different from observational sketching on location. At GODD.com we illustrate using Computer Graphics, mostly 3D-based, so the sketch is mainly a mean of communication and “image-finding”.

Around the beginning of 2009, I was told about the Urban Sketchers Network, founded by Seattle Journalist Gabi Campanario in 2008. I watched it for a while, slowly reactivated my own sketching and in July 2009 I felt confident enough to create my own Flickr account, join the group and post some drawings. I got totally caught by it. The feedback I received and could give was similar to the environment of the Aachen student days. Not quite the same passionate, bar-based roughness but with a wider range of people from multiple cultural backgrounds. In addition to posting in the Flickr group I started my own sketchblog in August 2009.

Sketch: Rolf Schroeter

In contrast to my student days I rarely go out with the main aim of sketching now. Paid work and family-duties (and joys) don’t leave much time for that. But I always carry a small notebook and pencil in my trouser pocket that I get out whenever I find a suitable occasion – on public transport, while supervising the kids or evenings out in theater, bars, etc. When I pass by something that really appeals to me, I might stop for a 15-20 minute sketch, rarely longer. Mostly I color the drawings digitally at home before posting them. When there’s time I use watercolors on location.

Although it’s only quick sketching there’s always this feeling of “stepping outside of the moment”. You’re outside the movement and everybody else is in it. The drawing gives you a reason to stand and watch, a gesture that would not be always be accepted socially without a sketchbook in hand. In this state my relation to the environment changes, because I am not heading towards anything – I try to let the sketching just “happen”. I start to see things – and the relationship between things – that I would not have noticed before; if things go well, this might find its way into the sketch and be of some kind of common interest at the same time.

Since I reactivated my sketching, my relation to Berlin has changed from being the city I accidentally live in to become…not a “hometown” but something I explore with continuing curiosity and that’s always challenging me. This hasn’t just happened by exploring the “scenic parts of town” either, but mostly just around everyday Charlottenburg where I live.

Sketch: Rolf Schroeter

The same thing happens when travelling (though not with family as we don’t ever seem able to travel “slowly” enough – we will improve on that). I am rarely interested in drawing yet another view of well-known sites, but prefer to roam around and find something that’s more atmospheric, something that visually appeals to me personally. So sometimes my sketching needs lead me to remote parts of the town and gives me a reason to stay there long enough, to let something new and unexpected “drip” into my experience. And, if I am very lucky, I carry a bit of it home. Sometimes this also creates some interesting contacts with the locals.

At the moment the Urban Sketchers network is an important part of all this. It’s a great environment for learning from others’ examples and testing the effect of your own stuff. Maybe it’s vanity, but I don’t think anyone sketches when no one else is watching. The network is well structured, with the public Flickr group (which anybody can join) and a few group rules, like the drawing having to be made on location, with an “urban” topic, and a bit of a story that explains the drawing. There’s also the Urban Sketchers blog, where only ‘correspondents’ can post and a “Sketchcrawl“, initialised by Enrico Casarosa, where everybody is encouraged to sketch on a special day together. In fact the next Sketchcrawl is May 15th, which I hope to be participating in.

Most of us have been guilty of blurring around at least one museum or gallery in our lives, ignoring the majority of the art therein, or focusing more on what’s for dinner later than what’s in front of us. Indeed, research shows that people spend as little as eight seconds looking at an individual work.

David Lynch and Isabella Rossellini by Helmut Newton

Which is why New Yorker Phil Terry, founder of non-profit Reading Odyssey, created the Slow Art campaign in the summer of 2009: precisely to encourage art lovers to spend a longer time looking at single works of art, and have the opportunity to discuss them afterwards – preferably during a nice lunch. According to Terry, feedback from last year indicated that participants were “inspired not tired” and used the experience to go back and revisit the same venues in the same way.

This year’s installment of Slow Art will take place on April 17th. 46 cities have already signed up this year, and more are expected to register in the coming weeks. Berlin will host two Slow Art events, at the Hamburger Bahnhof and Helmut Newton museums. STB had a chat with the organisers, Bettina Follenius and Hans Raffauf…

How did you first hear about Slow Art, and what was your initial reaction?

Bettina: Last summer I got an email from Slow Art New York. They told me about the project and asked me if I would sell my domain slow-art.com to them. I became curious and decided to give the domain to them for free and become part of the Slow Art community.

Hans: I heard from my friend Jason who visited from NYC about it. He’s a friend of Slow Art founder Phil Terry. Even though my art knowledge is still very superficial, I like the idea of making art easily accessible. My initial reaction was: “why do these crazy Americans always want to do events where people do the same thing at the same time all over the world? Let me try to understand…”

What are your respective backgrounds / professions?

Bettina: I’m an artist.

Hans: I’m an entrepreneur, the co-founder of Palomar5.org, and an economics student.

How long have you lived in Berlin?

Bettina: I am a Berlinerin.

Hans: 20 years.

What made you decide to host a Slow Art event in Berlin?

Bettina: Before I heard about Slow Art I had already experimented together with a small group to find a more holistic approach to art perception. Slow Art seemed very easy to me, basically just taking more time. I tried it myself and liked the outcome. I thought it would be even more exciting to share it with others.

What was the process involved in setting up the Slow Art day? Was it difficult to organise?

Bettina: The organizers help a lot, but it’s all done through the internet, which is not really my home. I found my own way to inform and invite people. I did the preparations together with two friends: Louisa and Tekla, which was fun.

Hans: Slow Art has an amazing pre-designed registering page which they adapt for each city. I basically only had to provide the name of the venue and the location of the lunch place, so the bureaucratic effort is rather little.

What inspired your particular choice of venue?

Bettina: The Hamburger Bahnhof has lots of different contemporary artworks. Tekla and I took three pieces to look at. These were the pieces we found quite controversial and could have interesting discussions about: Joseph Beuys, Anselm Kiefer and Dieter, Björn and Oddur Roth.

Hans: Helmut Newton was a real Berliner and an American by choice. How rare are real Berliners in this city? Apart from that, the exhibition is in the west part of the city, near the zoological garden, an area where all the Zugezogene from Mitte and Pregnant Hill crowd rarely show up.

Joseph Beuys

Do you simply guide visitors through the regular exhibitions, or is there something “special” arranged just for the day?

Bettina: It’s just the regular exhibition.

Hans: The idea is that everyone is looking at around 10 selected paintings secretly, and mostly for him/herself without telling others that you belong to the Slow Art event. It’s like a blind date in a museum. First you look at the paintings (and each other) for one or two hours, then you go for lunch.

Are you hoping there will be more Slow Art events in the future?

Bettina: I hope there will be more in the future. Let a thousand flowers bloom…

Hans: I think there is space for many more. Why not have one at every exhibition or museum in Berlin on the same day.

Participants will receive a list of works to observe in each museum, though there is no group tour. Instead you attend the venue alone (or with whoever you signed up with) and at a designated time meet up with the other participants to discuss the works. Participants pay the museum admission themselves and buy their own lunch.

To register for the Hamburger Bahnhof click here
To register for Helmut Newton click here

About The Author

Paul Sullivan is a Berlin-based writer & travel photographer and the founder of Slow Travel Berlin. You can check out his personal website here and some of his photography galleries here.

There’s no lack of photography exhibition venues in Berlin. The city’s profusion of empty, run-down buildings and smart, upmarket galleries cater competently for its burgeoning photography community, reinforced by the plethora of cafes and restaurants eager to give their businesses a creative twist.

Since opening in 2000, the privately financed, internationally-minded venue C/O Berlin has emerged as one of the leading spots for all things shutter-centric, pulling in major names like Don McCullin, Annie Leibovitz and Weegee over the years as well as promoting local talent via their Junior Workshops program and other competitions and projects.

C/O Berlin

In fact the founding vision is interdisciplinary, seeking to promote not just photography but image-related subjects such as architecture and design too. Their very first lecture, in 2002, was by architect / urban designer Daniel Libeskind, and the venue has hosted subsequent talks and dissussions with fine art and documentary photographer Nan Goldin and Canadian artist Jeff Wall.

Aside from its thoughtful and consistently interesting programming, a large part of C/O Berlin’s charm lies in its choice of host building: the splendid 19^th century Postfuhramt. This former Post Office headquarters was constructed in the late 1800s by Wilhelm Tuckermann, the architect also responsible for the Postbahnhof, and designed by Carl Schwatlo, best known for his Berlin postal building designs.

The Postfuhramt not only served as the central office for Berlin’s pneumatic postal system and packages, but also housed a postal and telegraph school as well as sleeping quarters and dressing rooms for staff. Seriously damaged during WWII, the building was partially restored between 1973-1989. Today its golden brickwork and handsome façade (which includes profiles of communications pioneers) serves as a reminder of Oranienburger Strasse’s former grandeur along with the rebuilt Neue Synagogue, further along the street.

C/O Berlin

The shabby, preserved interior is in direct contrast to the outside. The peeling ceilings, faded original décor and crumbling columns provide a tangible sense of history and form a charming backdrop to the exhibitions. One of the main rooms on the second floor (usually used for smaller, secondary exhibitions) is a former sports hall – as revealed by the basketball hoop backboard that’s still fixed to the wall.

Downstairs is an unobtrusive shop selling a considered selection of books, and the sprawling courtyard, accessed via Auguststrasse (these days the entrance to the Rodeo Club, a restaurant, club and events space in and around the building’s cupola) is worth a peek. Not only can you see the former coach houses for the mail carriages and horse stables, but also an array of bullet holes left uncovered on the right hand wall as you enter.

C/O Berlin
Oranienburgerstr. 35-36
Berlin 10117
Tel: 030 28 09 19 25
Map

In the late 90s she spent several months in New York crafting a collection of images from the famous artist-themed Carlton Arms Hotel, which were later transformed into a book (New York Hotel Story).

Since then Daoust has travelled from the Swiss Alps to Brazil and Japan in search of evocative imagery, venturing ever deeper into the fascinating territory of sex, memory and gender stereotyping and blurring the lines between the real and the fictive.

Daoust’s latest project, Hide & Sex, continues these explorations and obsessions. Spending several months living in the Alpha In, one of the biggest S&M “love hotels” in Japan, Daoust photographed 39 women in their private rooms, surrounded by specialist equipment and dressed in the regalia that helps define their trade.

The result is a series of images that not only underline Daoust’s passion for the surreal and the sensual, but which shine a light into the darker shadows of femininity, fantasy and human sexuality in general. Daoust currently lives in Kreuzberg, Berlin.

Who, or what sparked your interest in photography initially?

I initially created an imaginary world with a friend and put her in the middle of it, a nude draped in a blanket, then photographed her in a fictive environment. We had so much fun doing this I then made more photos with other friends. I also liked this intimate moment shared with my friends while photographing them. Today it is more this than the photography itself that I appreciate. (See Nathalie’s mesmerizing Frozen In Time series here: http://www.daoustnathalie.com/).

What aspects of the subject stimulated you at first – and are these themes still apparent in your work now?

It was to create fantasy worlds, like I did when I was 15 or so with my friends. Over time I discovered that so many people have created their own surreal worlds and I was interested to find out why, and to learn more about these imaginary places and why people need to escape so much, just as I did. As mentioned above, it’s more about the intimate moment of a photo-shoot that I like. To get to know these people…

What academic studies have you undertaken, and what kind of influence have they had on your current approach?

I think that most of it was self-taught, playing around and experimenting. I studied for three years at the Cegep du Vieux in Montreal (1994-97). It’s a technical school that focuses on everything to do with photography but not much on the art side. But I had amazing teachers that understood that I wanted to do with the art side and they pretty much let me do what I wanted, as long as I worked hard.

What influences – photographic and non-photographic – have been most significant over the years?

What counts for me most are my travels and meeting new people, seeing new worlds. For the past 13 years I have been traveling pretty much all over the world. Seeing new cultures inspires me so much, but I have to admit I am inspired by the dark or stranger side of things.

Your breakthrough was the Carlton Arms project – how did that opportunity come about and what made you execute it the way you did?

I was visiting NYC and stayed there, at the Carlton Arms. I was so in love with the hotel and asked one of the owners to see more rooms, We started to talk and I guess I had such a light in my eyes from finding the place amazing that they invited me to decorate a room. After spending two months in NYC decorating the room I went back to Montreal – and realized I didn’t want to be there. So I called the hotel and asked if I can come back for two months and take photos of each room. The two months turned into two years, and the photos became a travelling exhibition and a book.

Since then your work has been more concerned with women and sexuality: striptease dancers (Tokyo Girls) Japanese S&M parlours (Hide & Sex), Brazilian brothels (Street Kiss Brazil) – what prompted this direction for you?

Actually the women part has always been my project, even when I was in high school. I didn’t photograph any boys there. But the more serious aspects came when I decided to confirm or change my preconceived notion of these women and those worlds. Most of the time what I was told or previously thought was different to what I experienced after spending time with these people.

What particular feminist / female issues are you mostly concerned with, inside and outside of photography?

I am interested in why these women do this. Is it good or bad? I wouldn’t say that I’m a feminist though. I am just trying to understand and respect their choices. In Japan people are not poor and almost never forced into this work, so why do it? In Brazil I photographed one of the poorest brothels in one of the worse areas of Rio de Janeiro. Were these women forced? How did they deal with the work? Each had their story. I guess my concern was to understand and share this with photography. At the same time I feel like I only use photography as an excuse to get into these worlds. I would not be able to be friends with all these women and get to know them on a personal level if it was not for my camera.

Women aside, you also seem drawn to sexual or sensual environments?

I guess I am curious. All these fantasy worlds created for sex. How the women deal with them, whether they are bad or good, for them and for society – these are all questions I have asked myself. I was always given perspectives by my family or friends but I had a feeling they didn’t really know what they were talking about, only repeating what they were told. These worlds are something beyond what you can look up on Wikipedia to have an opinion on. You need to get close and understand these worlds.

Your current exhibition, Hide & Sex, looks specifically at S&M parlours and dominatrix culture in Japan. It’s on the heels of your Tokyo Girls project – in what ways, if any, are the two projects linked?

Both are working for the entertainment sex industry, but they are two completely different worlds and have almost nothing in common. Erotic dancers are girls that come to Tokyo for three months to make big bucks. They’re lost, new to a city, dreaming. Hide & Sex was about women that like to torture men for money. Money and sex are links but they are still two different worlds.

Was the establishment accessible for Hide & Sex or did you have to work hard to them [and the girls] to convince them?

The hotel needed a lot of convincing. I first went there for my Love Hotel project. They said no twice, then they said OK, but only the rooms without girls. That was in 2002. The owner came with me to each room while I was doing some snap shots, and explained some quite interesting things about the hotel. After a few hours with him I asked if I could come back and do a project on the hotel and the girls that work there and he said OK. I guess he finally understood that I wanted to make something creative and not something damaging for his hotel. Since then we are good friends. And for the girls – this hotel is so famous that all of them wanted to be photographed in it. That part was easy.

You lived in the hotel a good while. Photographs aside, what were your main insights about S&M, women or Japan?

I see it almost as a game. Mostly there is a great respect between everyone. Also I was expecting “hard” women since they were are all dominatrix, but they were all sweet and in a way  ‘submissive’ to the camera.

Were all of the women co-operative?

100% – maybe even more. Most of them brought me presents or asked other dominatrix to help. There was no rush, no stress, it was quite easy and they were all lovely. We have also become friends now. I saw them two weeks ago in Tokyo when we organized a thank you party for them at the Hyatt. They all came to the opening of the exhibition, wearing pretty dresses and bearing flowers. They were so lovely…

Again there is a dreamlike quality to the images – was this to get across the fantasy element of what the women were doing?

Yes, the whole place is a surreal world. Nothing to do with reality.

What did you shoot on and can you describe for us the development or processing technique.

I used a Nikon f3 35mm and shot on Kodak film (b&w and colour) and then I developed everything in the colour darkroom, including the b&w images. Colour darkrooms are now difficult to find and the Senac darkroom in Sao Paulo is sponsoring me, so I get to spend three months there and concentrate only on the manipulation of the image, trying new techniques etc. until I get the feeling of what I saw and felt during the shoot.

At this point in your career, what themes and topics are most important to you?

Places of escapement or living in an imaginary world.

And what new projects are you working on?

The next project that I am doing is on a Chinese man that thinks he is Mao Ze Dong. It’s about mental escapism.

www.newyorkhotelstory.com

www.daoustnathalie.com