PURGATORY AND MYSTERY_THE FOG WITHIN: OLAF WIPPERFÜRTH EXPLORES HUMAN ABSENCE AND MEMORY
Project by
Niccolò Lapo Latini @niccololapolatini
OLAF WIPPERFÜRTH, Paris, 19th November 2024 // At Studio Olaf Wipperfürth // Launching his new exhibition INTERSTATE/S at Remèdes Galerie, curated by Lila Rouquet and part of Photo Days Paris on show until 19th December.
Olaf Wipperfürth’s journey is one of artistic exploration, from his early immersion in the fashion world to a profound shift towards introspective work that transcends trends. His unique eye, honed through years of photographing portraits and fashion icons, led him from the bright lights of Dior and Vogue to a quiet space of personal discovery. It is here, in the intersection of art and philosophy, that Wipperfürth found his true voice—capturing moments of absence, memory, and impermanence.
His intellectual foundation is rooted in his academic journey, including a PhD titled The ‘Moment’ in Contemporary Art and Philosophy (1999), which profoundly shaped his conceptual approach to art. Wipperfürth’s studies in the philosophy of art and aesthetics, paired with further training at the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf, set the stage for his unique artistic vision. The vibrant subculture of 1980s Germany also played a crucial role in defining his approach, imbuing his work with a spirit of rebellion and exploration.
These academic roots pulled him towards a more personal peak. In fact at the height of his success, Wipperfürth chose a rarer summit —a less visible but far more significant one. This was a journey not toward fame, but towards fulfillment. He began to challenge and reevaluate his art, exploring new boundaries and merging photography with painting as a means to elevate and transform his work. This introspective shift led him to a rare form of happiness, found not in external recognition, but in the freedom to experiment, evolve, and reconnect with the essence of his craft focusing on something far more meaningful: regaining control over his most valuable asset—time. This decision reflects his growing awareness that time, in its fleeting nature, is the most precious resource, one that cannot be bought.
His evocative works, where movement and light come together, invite us into a world of introspection and raw emotion. Through his art, Wipperfürth invites us into a world where absence, memory, and experimentation merge, leading to a profound understanding of mortality.
To conclude the exordium, I’d leave you with Olaf Wipperfürth’s words, sealing his long-lasting bond and relationship of complicity and depth with Mia Le Journal:
“Mia is synonym of privacy, intimacy, research, harbor. Federica leaves the doors open, to the artist and to the human being. A rare quality that I appreciate and respect.” O.W.
Boat on Lava, Stromboli 2009.
While looking at your artworks, I had Cigarettes After Sex playing loudly at home, and I couldn’t help but think about the word “nostalgia.” Perhaps I was inspired by the indie vibes blending with the tones of your colors, but in fact, many of the pieces in the exhibition evoke a sense of nostalgia. Do you agree with this interpretation?
I understand what you mean. Nostalgia is a word that often comes to mind, but I deliberately avoid it in my artist statements. It implies regret for past times or simply an orientation toward the past, and there’s something inherently sad in it, like melancholy. That said, you’re right in a way. I suppose I am a kind of archaeologist of past time and space. I’m fascinated by absence—by things that were once there, like people or spirits, and aren’t anymore. The memory of places and people captivates me. I’m more intrigued by what I don’t see than what I do see. It’s about preserving memories, holding onto the essence of people and places before they fade, going with the flow of life in a peaceful and natural way.
When you create an image, what inspires you the most: the memory of the past, the emotion of the present, or the curiosity for the future?
It’s a mix of all three. When you’re creating, you’re fully in the moment, but you’re also projecting into the future, drawing inspiration from past memories. It starts with the present—observing, feeling, and perceiving the emotions and sensations that overwhelm you. That’s the beginning. From there, it evolves, incorporating the concern for the future and the echoes of the past.
Geist N°40, 2024, mixed media.
Disko Bay N° 27, 2021.
With Disko Bay at Rome’s Museo Civico di Zoologia in 2022 and now Interstate/s, you create a tangible storytelling experience, a real and present narrative that invites viewers to embrace it—a path of thought inspired by exploring transitions and impermanence. What message do you hope viewers take away from these narratives? What would you like them to carry home from those rooms?
The idea is to confront viewers with impermanence and transitions, to encourage them to think about what has been lost and what remains. I want them to leave with a sense of connection to the memory of places and people, to reflect on the traces left behind by time and absence. It’s an invitation to cherish the fleeting nature of things and to hold onto the memories that shape us.
You’ve taken a step back from the fashion world. What motivated this shift, and do you find your current artistic path more fulfilling?
Franca Sozzani gave me my first real break. I remember shooting long editorials for Vogue Italia, 16 pages long, where I could tell a story about a woman. It was thrilling. But by the 2010s, the spirit of fashion journalism had changed. What once had freedom, excitement, and storytelling became dominated by fast-paced, mechanical production—product placement, standardized styles, and no room for true creativity. While I still do fashion portraits, it’s no longer my primary motivation. There’s no freedom left in it for me. Returning to my art has been liberating. Forgetting about clients and commercial demands has allowed me to rediscover myself, to challenge my limits, and to explore my art with fresh eyes.
What was your first meeting with Franca Sozzani like? What kind of person was she?
met her with her right-hand Ariella Goggi at a restaurant in Paris. She was highly educated, sensitive, and refined—a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. At the same time, she was incredibly generous and determined, with a clear vision. She gave me my first opportunity, and I appreciated her open, human side, which I found more inspiring than working with the French magazines I’d been collaborating with. Unfortunately, the spirit of the industry has changed since then. The pace of today’s fashion world has stripped it of its soul. Thousands of images are published daily, and there’s no longer the uniqueness or tangibility that makes art meaningful.
The Mexican, 2002.
I’ve been reflecting lately, and sometimes I wish I had more time—not just to do the things I truly enjoy and that make me feel fulfilled, but also simply to have more time to do nothing.
You’re right, and what’s interesting is that you’re young, from a different generation than mine, yet you’re able to recognize this. I used to think digital natives, being so accustomed to the frenetic pace of today, would feel differently. But from what I see, you don’t. I’m not even sure where this rush is taking us—or why.
Society seems to be aligning younger generations with the new technological revolution, one much more intense and disruptive than even the first industrial revolution. But there are still a few sensitive souls—few as they may be—who sense that something about this is fundamentally wrong, even though they didn’t live in a different time. We can feel it, even if we’re the minority.
That’s exactly it. This is not, I think, the right way to live—not just in terms of work or art, but also in how we spend our own private time. We should slow down and take time for ourselves. There really isn’t any other solution; otherwise, life isn’t healthy or fulfilling—it’s simply sad. That’s why I decided to step away from the imposed frenzy and constant productivity. I sought refuge in an unknown world, a place where I could start again with fresh eyes.
How did your studies in philosophy and art at the Düsseldorf Academy shape your approach to photography? What role did the 1980s German subculture play in shaping your artistic vision?
My studies deeply influenced me. Philosophy and art both challenge you to think critically and creatively, and I see traces of that in all my work. The German subculture of the 1980s had the same energy—freedom, rebellion, and a desire to push boundaries. From the Greeks to the French, philosophy teaches us to question everything, to explore both the logical and illogical. These ideas resonate in my photography, where every image is an exploration of the last trace of human existence. It’s about capturing the impermanent and the incomprehensible, the value of what remains.
Disko Bay N° 22, 2021, Mixed media.
Uncaged N°28, mixed media.
How would you describe your photographic work today in a few words?
Wipperfürth: It’s all about The Hidden Side of Things—the residual value of what’s been lost, the fascination with absence, and the traces left behind. My work is a conversation with the unseen, a reflection on the ephemeral nature of life and the stories that remain untold.
