Interview mit Wolfgang Vollmer

by Mia ter Horst and Lasse Branding

Since its founding in 1984 in Cologne, the International Photoscene has developed into Germany’s oldest photography festival and a major international cultural event. It showcases the diversity of photography in Cologne and involves the entire art and cultural landscape of the city.

To mark this occasion, the International Photoscene Cologne aims to reflect on its developments over the past 40 years and honor the protagonists and their contributions. The history of the Photoscene in Cologne is, at the same time, a history of photography itself—its exhibition practices, as well as its artistic and curatorial networks.

It begins with the photographer, collector, and curator Wolfgang Vollmer.

Hello Wolfgang, You were born in 1952 in Marburg an der Lahn and grew up in a suburb of Bonn before moving to Cologne. How was it for you to move to a big city like Cologne at the end of the 1970s?

Awesome! Amazing! That’s what a young person today would say.

Back then, in 1976, Cologne had a very different image than it does now. Before moving there, I studied surveying in Bonn. Fortunately, the program included a photography course since surveying relies on photographs for map-making. We worked in the darkroom with developer and fixer under red light, and that's when I really caught the photography bug. I told my friends, “Guys, I’m quitting and moving to Cologne.” Their reactions were mostly negative—many asked why I wanted to move to such an “ugly, dirty, uninteresting” city. At the time, Cologne wasn’t considered particularly attractive and certainly didn’t have the reputation it enjoys today.

Despite that, I felt that anything was possible in Cologne. There was a lot of room for creativity, both in terms of ideas and physical space—exactly what I was looking for. I wanted a place where I could do whatever I wanted, with enough space to make it happen. Cologne offered me that. It was possible thanks to my professor, Arno Jansen, and also through photography itself, which gave me so much freedom. On top of that, the quality of life was high: housing was affordable, and I immediately found a 200-square-meter apartment. Sure, it was in the basement, but it was still 200 square meters!

It was a sense of great freedom, and that really excited me.

In 1976, you began studying “Artistic Photography” in Arno Jansen’s class at the University of Applied Sciences in Cologne. What was it like to study artistic photography at a time when photography wasn’t yet recognized as an independent artistic medium and was rarely displayed in major museums?

The professor didn’t talk to us about technical details, like how to photograph a glass or something else. Instead, he’d say, “Have your idea! If the idea is good, go for it.” This was the first university in West Germany where you could study artistic photography—not applied photography—on equal footing with other art disciplines. The conceptual and creative range was limitless; you could experiment freely. The school also had other classes where photography was treated as an artistic medium, like with Alfred Will.

During your studies, you also met Ulrich Tillmann.

Since I was interested in Cologne’s art scene, I attended many exhibitions and events in the late ’70s. That’s where I eventually met Uli Tillmann, and we became friends pretty quickly. We agreed on a lot of things. Uli had studied in a very different way from me; he had a technical education and studied with photo engineers in Deutz. I, on the other hand, had no formal training and still have trouble taking a sharp photo because I never went through a proper apprenticeship. (laughs)

Nevertheless, we found common ground in our creative visions, and that really brought us together.

In your work “Masterpieces of Photographic Art,” which you exhibited in 1984 during the first edition of the International Photoscene Festival, you explored iconic works in photographic history. How did that project come about?

On one hand, I’ve always been interested in what others have done, which I then wanted to try for myself: self-portraits, experiments, and photographic history—for instance, Urs Lüthi, André Kertész, and Anna Atkins.

Another motivation was our frustration with the commercial photography market, which constantly asked, “Is this a vintage print? How much is it worth?” In 1981, the Kicken Gallery in Cologne held an exhibition of their most expensive photographs. We decided to create a counter-event: He’s showing the most expensive pictures; we’re showing the “real” ones. That’s how the project started.

We postponed the exhibition by two weeks to coincide with the first Photoscene Festival. Otherwise, only about 500 people might have seen it; this way, around 1,000 visitors came.

The event was covered in several photography magazines, even internationally. Thanks to the positive response, we quickly found a publisher willing to create a small book with us. That was our entry into the world of photography, and the photography market opened many doors for us. In this sense, the International Photoscene played a crucial role.​​​​​​

To what extent would you say the concept of the “masterpiece” still matters in photography today?

What still fascinates me about this topic is the realization that if you want to engage with the photography market or study photography, you really need to know what’s already out there. What are the masterpieces, and how have they been treated?

I can’t say if our exhibition was important for educating photographers, but I do think the history of photography and what has happened in the field are hugely significant. Maybe our show encouraged people to see these key works as important—but also to realize that they could be cited, critiqued, and honored with humor.

The project was exhibited at the so-called “Gallery without a Gallerist” at Hochstadenstrasse 27 in Cologne. What was the Gallery without a Gallerist?

Uli founded the gallery in 1978 with Bettina Gruber and Maria Vedder. I joined later. It was essentially a “producers’ gallery,” as it was called back then, meaning that artists themselves organized and curated the exhibitions. We had around five to seven exhibitions per year.

We showed videos, hung photos on the walls, and presented all kinds of work. Not everyone could display whatever they wanted, but if we thought something was good, we made it happen. The focus wasn’t on commerce but on the idea, concept, and vision behind the work.

That was also the mindset I experienced in Cologne during the founding of the Photoscene. Reinhold Mißelbeck and the people who supported him didn’t aim to define everything rigidly. On the contrary, they said, “Keep it broad. Do what you want, but do it seriously.”

How did other galleries and institutions in Cologne react to the exhibitions at the Gallery without a Gallerist?

You could say we were, in the best sense, the icing on the cake of the five existing galleries (editor’s note: including Galerie Kicken, Galerie Wilde, and others). We weren’t competition; we simply offered something additional.

What we did was never frivolous; it was well thought out and professionally executed. People appreciated that our approach was open and light-hearted. That sense of playfulness and independence is something I feel is missing today.

Back then, we didn’t have the same pressure; we just did what we wanted. I’d even argue that we were the first to approach the topic of “masterpieces in photography” with irony. Others wouldn’t have dared to critically engage with someone like Ansel Adams. (laughs)

What impact did the founding of the International Photoscene in 1984 have on you as an artist and the independent scene in Cologne?

The hope was that Photokina, as the world’s largest photography trade fair—attended by professionals, enthusiasts, and those interested in photography—would spark interest not only in technology but also in photographic art. Initially, the trade fair served as a kind of driver for the festival.

The original idea behind the International Photoscene was to show, on the left bank of the Rhine, what could be done with cameras, as opposed to the technical side of things displayed at the trade fair on the right bank.

L. Fritz Gruber was responsible for bringing in photographers and artists who could demonstrate the breadth of photography—applied, artistic, and documentary. All facets of photography were represented.

Suddenly, as an artist, you found yourself featured in a catalog alongside institutions like the Museum Ludwig, Galerie Holtmann, Gugu Ernesto, Galerie Wilde, and the Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum. We were on equal footing with all these other institutions in Cologne.

For me, the founding of the International Photoscene was a step toward elevating Cologne in the fields of photography and art. It was important to establish a structure that brought together institutions and the independent scene, moving away from a trade fair function to say, “Cologne isn’t just a trade fair city; we’re a photography city!”

How do you view the independent scene and the art market for photography in Cologne today?

The photography art market is extremely tough and expensive. There are only a few non-commercial spaces where artists can truly develop freely. If you start an art association, the membership fees alone have to cover the rent, which is often around 1,000 euros or more.

In the 1980s, we also had to pay rent, but conditions were more affordable and flexible. Today, it’s difficult to keep a space alive and attract enough visitors. If no one comes, the space will eventually close.

Take Michael Horbach, for example. He works hard to keep his gallery alive, and I respect him for that. The KunstWerk Köln in Deutz, which I’m part of, is also committed to maintaining a lively space. We receive support from the city of Cologne and host various events, including photography exhibitions during the Photoscene Festival.

Often, we hear visitors say they’ve never been to our space before, even though they’ve lived in Cologne for years. The Photoscene plays a significant role in supporting and showcasing such spaces.

This year, it was announced that Cologne’s cultural budget would face cuts. What does that mean for the independent scene and for you as an artist?

We’ll have to see. KunstWerk and our photography exhibitions have received funding multiple times, and I hope that continues. Even if we don’t get funding, we’ll still put on exhibitions—just on a smaller scale.

I’m retired, so I can put in an hour or two of work without financial compensation, which isn’t a problem for me—but others aren’t in the same position. I want to contribute to photography and ensure it continues to be recognized in this city.

I want to support the independent scene.

Interview mit Wolfgang Vollmer

https://photoszene.de/de/diskurs/40-jahre-photoszene/interview-mit-wolfgang-vollmer/