Biesentales

When I photograph, I arrange the world around me, drawing focus from an inner stillness. This stillness, intertwined with a particular place, is what I want to explore today.

The place is a property in Brandenburg, Germany, where I have spent countless weekends and holidays since childhood, since my father used to live there. Once a vacation camp in East Germany, it was rediscovered in the early 2000s by a group of friends who hosted a festival. What began as an annual celebration grew into something more permanent. They fell in love with the land, cleared debris, planted trees, and eventually stayed there, raising children - including me, my friends, and others who came later. Over time, an informal community emerged - a network of artists and friends still connected to the first act of celebration.

Summers here feel timeless. Lying on a raft, letting the sun dance on my skin, I occasionally roll into the water to cool off before returning to the warm wood beneath me. The raft I lay on is more than just a surface. Its grain and scent carry traces of past winters, of freezing and thawing. It has seen moments of community as well as those of solitude. As soon as I enter the gate my pace slows down and after greeting everyone I come to sit down with my thoughts.

This sense of calm informs my creative process. I like to zoom my gaze out sometimes and look at the world like a stranger, or like from space - with a distance that lets me see bigger patterns and wonder with a bit of amusement about the strangeness of the human experience.

In 2021, I photographed this commune as part of a small documentary project. Since then, I’ve returned with different cameras and approaches, adapting my visual language to reflect not only the romantic side of this place, but also the eerie, the lone and the contradictory moments as well as the changing faces and materialities. Though my focus may shift over the years, one element remains constant: an attempt to capture this calm feeling that has shaped me since childhood, which had been hard to make understandable to friends in the city, using only words. In photography I found a different way to talk about it. Now the Biesentales are becoming an ever growing collection, which I might want to summarize into a book in a few years. Though the final form of the project is far from clear, I am following my gut to continue photographing and experimenting, while the seasons and my connection to the community are ever changing.

Louis Roth is part of Issue 17 by Guest Editor Torbjørn Rødland.

Check out his Artist Feature fata morgana.