A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING AND EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE

Hans Hansen is one of the most important photographers of recent decades. With his clarity, he has forever changed the way we look at products and everyday objects. A conversation about luck and making a career, his fascination with cars – and the question of why he recently donated his entire collection to a museum in Hamburg.

Nansen & Piccard: Mr. Hansen, despite lacking formal photographic training, you’ve become a pivotal figure in the field. Was it sheer luck, or did you possess a clear -vision for your career from an early stage?

Hans Hansen: Both. A clear idea of what I really wanted, and a great deal of luck.

You actually studied graphic design at the Düsseldorf Art Academy. How did you become a photographer?

Before I began my studies, I completed an apprenticeship as a lithographer and actually wanted to study typography in Stuttgart. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. Then I started studying graphic design at the Düsseldorf Art Academy under Walter Breker. It should be mentioned that there were two programs at the time: “applied graphic design,” which was closer to advertising, and “independent graphic design,” which was part of the fine arts. I studied applied graphics. Incidentally, Bernd and Hilla Becher were also in my class – both much older than me, but neither of them were enrolled in the art course.

Why didn’t you simply study photography?

In my time, there was simply no photography at the academy. But obviously, my interest lay in working with a camera, and I became enthusiastic about the combination of photography and graphics early on.

This graphical approach later became a leitmotif in your photographic work. Perhaps your most famous work is that of a VW Golf, built in 1988, its 7,000 individual parts knolled on the floor.

Exactly. By the way, it took four days of preparation before I could take the picture... But during my studies, I had to deal with completely different things. At the academy, they only taught graphic design – from book design to posters. No photography, even though photography was indispensable for advertising back then.

Did you already know back then that your future was in advertising?

I wasn’t a complete stranger to advertising when I started out. I did harbor some curiosity about it, but it wasn’t my primary focus. I wasn’t firmly committed to it from the outset. I didn’t necessarily aspire to work in advertising, nor was I particularly drawn to art. Art wasn’t a significant concern for me; my main goal was simply to photograph.

It seems like the art academy might not have been the perfect fit for you …

I simply had different interests from my professor. While I wanted to focus on photography, he, for example, wanted me to explore linocut during one semester. I wasn’t rebellious; I never liked conflicts. So, I complied and dedicated myself to linocut. I locked myself in my student apartment and worked on the project every day simply because I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. I did it so consistently that I stopped attending the academy altogether. One day, at the end of the summer semester, I received a letter from the academy’s director. Persona non grata. Expulsion. That was it. That was in 1962. From then on, I was suddenly on my own.

How did things go for you after you were expelled from the art academy?

That’s when I just started working. Well, I had to. I was lucky enough to meet a Finnish designer, one of the really big names. We had a long, incredible conversation about design language and all sorts of things and as a thank you for the conversation, I gave him a photo from my portfolio. Apparently I was able to impress him with the photo because he contacted me some time later and asked if I would be interested in taking photos of his glass objects for him.

Who was this designer?

That was Tapio Wirkkala, a really big name to this day. Photographing his glass works after the academy was not only a stroke of luck for me, but also a huge opportunity as a young photographer. I had admired his work for a long time, especially the glass objects. And now I was allowed to photograph them, for a world-famous designer, as a twenty-two-year-old nobody! That was the beginning of my career and my first commission. My glass collection began then and is now kept in the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe in Hamburg.

Were you able to meet his expectations?

Fortunately, the commission was a success. As I already knew his glass works beforehand, I immediately had an idea of how I wanted to photograph them. I also had a lot of freedom with the project. Wirkkala was much older than me and saw that I had a good understanding of photography. He then simply said: Go for it! So I just did what I thought was right and then sent him the photos. He was very pleased, they were published and so began my career in advertising photography.

You also did campaigns for Lufthansa after Otl Aicher designed the legendary visual identity for the airline.

That’s true, but my start was much more mundane. At first I was supposed to take on small tasks. Photographing gift items, that sort of thing. I did that very diligently, of course, which worked out well for me. Because apart from the first job for Wirkkala, I had no experience at all in the professional field of photography. It was a lot of learning by doing. At the end of the commissions, there wasn’t much money left over either, because I had to invest all the money directly in the next project. Although I was already on a tight budget for my materials. Things went on like that for a while until one day Lufthansa sent me to Madrid for a project. I was supposed to take pictures on the plane en route. That was something special – Frankfurt-Madrid was the longest connection in Europe at the time. So I packed my Nikons, my passport and a bit of money and got on the plane. The pictures turned out quite well and that’s how it began that I continued to be sent on flights. First to Boston, then on to America, Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean. Along the way, I was always able to make new contacts and network. In the end, my work at Lufthansa led to a contact with an agency in New York that was doing the famous campaign for Volkswagen at the time.

So your career hinges on the fact that you were fortunate enough to travel the world?

I was particularly lucky that the plane that was supposed to take me back to Germany from Madrid was overbooked and I was stuck in the Spanish capital for three days. So what was I supposed to do there?

Take photos?

Today, everyone has access to a camera. The technology is so advanced that anyone can have images artificially generated from the comfort of their home. What do you make of the current development?

To be honest, I’m rather critical of it. I think that if we don’t master AI, we will fail. Photography will be a thing of the past, and very quickly. It will simply disappear.

Your influence on contemporary product photography in recent decades has been tremendous. Without your eye for products and objects, modern brand representations such as Apple’s would be almost inconceivable. What is it that fascinates you about product photography?

I’m generally not interested in certain products. Sure, I’ve always photographed cars, airplanes and even glass, but I’m fundamentally interested in what’s behind them. We live in a “world of things” and everything that is natural is far away. Our environment, to stick with our language, is first and foremost materialistic. Everything we use, everything around us, everything we wear, no matter what – it’s all artificial. On the one hand, I am certainly interested in the surface aspect, but I am much more fascinated by who or what lies behind a product and why a person decided to create the thing.

You have been shooting for over 60 years and have worked with high-profile clients such as Porsche, Mercedes and Vitra. Your work has graced the pages of Life and Paris Match. Is there a particular assignment that left a lasting impression on you?

Many. There are plenty of anecdotes. In fact, I just thought of another incredible experience last night. I was working on a production for Fiat in Turin in the early 1970s. At the time, I was already working for the New York agency Carl Ally. I was supposed to take photos alongside a film team for a commercial. We first worked in Rome, then in Turin. The commercial was about the new Fiat 124 speeding through extreme scenarios. In Turin, the idea was to shoot a scene in which the car flies through the air from one roof to another. On one roof, a ramp was cemented into the ground and on the other a landing strip with a huge wall of metal pipes to prevent the vehicle from crashing into the factory’s air conditioning system. The whole thing had been precisely calculated by the stuntman beforehand. A huge amount of work went into it, and an incredible number of people were involved on set.

What were you tasked with on the shoot?

I was positioned below between the two buildings with my assistant and was supposed to capture the moment the Fiat was midair. We knew beforehand that the whole sequence would take less than six seconds, and only a fraction of that in the air. There was only this one opportunity for the perfect shot. Then came the jump, and each of my six motorized cameras shot an entire roll of film.

Did you manage to capture the moment?

We did, but the photo ended up being quite dull. All you could see were two houses and this car in the air in between. We basically did the same thing again in Naples afterwards. There they had the car jump onto a ferry.

So then, better to stick to product photography …

Fortunately, I’ve often met people who simply said, wouldn’t you like to do this or that? Carte Blanche. Just do it the way you want. Which is why I would be in such trouble today. Dreadful things have changed the world. And so has time pressure. But I’m interested in the quiet things, and you need time to reveal them. When I shot the dismantled Golf, I was given that time.

How come cars are such a recurring theme in your work?

For me, the fascination of cars lies in the fact that everything about them is designed, constructed, and shaped. Not just on the outside, but also everything you can’t see. It is high-tech and when it’s well made, it’s a beautiful object. You sit in it, it’s comfortable, you’re snug, you know exactly what every handle or button is for. You turn a key, at least in a classic car, and suddenly you have incredible power at your disposal. If I press one pedal, I can accelerate to 200 km/h and if I push another pedal, the car stops in a matter of seconds. This fascination is simply irresistible.

You have decided to donate your life’s work with more than 10,000 of your own pictures and your entire photo collection to Hamburg’s Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe. These include works by Irving Penn, Joel Sternfeld, Barbara Klemm, and Bruce Weber, among others. What prompted you to do this?

It wasn’t a decision I made overnight. I spent a long time thinking about what I could do with my archive and the collection. The idea of donating it developed over time. It first occurred to me when I was part of a series of exhibitions for which the curator of the MK&G had invited photographers over several years. The photographers were asked to combine their own pictures with photos from the museum’s collection. When I looked at my own exhibition there, I noticed a genuine interplay, the works came alive in a way. Something special emerged: a transparency. One day I went to the curator and said: I would give you all of it if you like.

That sounds like a major decision. What was the curator’s reaction?

She was delighted and accepted the offer. But other people came to me and asked why I had done it. I think my collection simply was a good fit for the building. It was a fortunate solution for me.Now everyone can see my collection, and isn’t that a nice outcome?

Your collection also includes several works by emerging photographers. How important has it been for you to support and promote young talent?

I often meet young photographers at workshops or when I’m teaching. Sometimes some of them apply to be assistants and sometimes these talented people bring great photos with them and then I say, come, I’ll buy a few photos from you. Or if I feel I can support this person, then I will do that. I think that’s important, because if they don’t have anyone to sell to, they won’t even get their feet on the ground. Everyone can always use help in some way. In the case of photographers, either in the form of motivation or through economic support by buying work. It’s quite simple. When someone buys something, it also shows me as a young artist that at the very least some of my work is appreciated. It was similar for me with the Finnish designer Tapio Wirkkala.

Do you sometimes meet old students or assistants of yours?

Yes, and some of them have stayed with photography to this day and are now among the top photographers. I think that’s wonderful. Others, however, have disappeared without a trace.

You no longer take on any big projects. But are you still involved?

When I start something new today, there has to be a strong initial spark. There is actually a project that I’ve had in mind for a long time. In the States, I was once able to shoot a car on a country road that crashed backwards into a tree and burned out. I would love to recreate something like that in the studio, not glossed over, but really hard-hitting.