Es geht darum, fruchtbar, nicht furchtbar mit der Angst umzugehen, es geht darum, die Angst nicht zum Geist, zum Ungeist der Angst wachsen zu lassen; es geht darum, dass die Angst nicht neurotisch wird; wenn das passiert, wird sie populistisch ausbeutbar.

It is about finding a fruitful, rather than fearful, way to deal with fear. It‘s about not allowing the fear to grow into the spirit of things, or unleashing the ghost of fear; it‘s about not allowing the fear to become neurotic; when that happens, the fear can become an instrument of populism.

It started in the news. A flu-like virus had broken out far away. Corona virus SARS-CoV-2.

I was standing in a town square on a sunny Monday morning. It should have been crowded. A bustle of people should have been rushing from A to B and then to C. Instead everything was empty. Not a single human being, just one pigeon. It was the first day of the week of the so-called „Corona Virus shutdown“. It didn‘t feel like that. It felt more like a normal sunny Sunday morning, when people sit in the park, walk along the seafront or watch a football match on TV. Instead all these activities were suddenly forbidden.

What started as a small wave far away, is now rolling like a Tsunami over the entire world. Virologists are taking over, infection numbers are being quoted like stock market prices and fear is spreading.

We seek out explanations in graphs, empty places and fear those without protective masks. But fear is not tangible. It cannot be photographed. Different pictures have to be taken, different comparisons are needed.

C19/1-8 is a series of pictures that I have been working on over the past few weeks. They are my personal and >>poetic immunisation strategy.<<**