In Conversation: Sven Marquardt on Doubt

Photographer Sven Marquardt recently unveiled a photo series, created in collaboration with PLATTE, a Berlin-based concept store. Titled ‘The Doubt’ it features five creatives, who live and work in the German capital, each representing a different facet of the doubt that comes as the price to realising your creative vision. DJ Juba is featured as ‘Presence’, painter Jette symbolises ‘Absence’, musician Zachi wears ‘Despair’, artist Samja embodies ‘Drama’ and Eike König stars as ‘The Doubt’. The campaign poses questions about the creative future of Berlin, whose Senate has made big funding cuts to its arts and culture funds, majorly affecting public art universities.

Growing up in East Berlin in a separated Germany, Sven carved out his own identity as part of the Punk and New Wave movements, picking up photography in the process. His exclusively black-and-white pictures are easily recognizable by their signature serious and somber feel. A widely known figure and native of the Berlin club scene, he has sat down with us to talk about the photo series, why doubts are important to his creative vision and the future he sees for subculture and artists in his home city. 

Lynn Yin DittelIs Doubt something that has been on your mind more, lately?

Sven MarquardtNot just currently, it has always been on my mind, a lot. I was told, even, that I really had to have the Doubt-T-Shirt — nothing would match me better. I question, or try to question, everything I do, see and experience and try to look at it from a different, opposite, side. Even if I am confident about my work, before any of my exhibits I always question what I’m looking at and try to see what I might have missed. Doubt has many facets to it. This campaign questions current times and funding cuts from the Berlin Senate. What will happen with art? What will happen with millions of self-employed Creatives? I was socialised in East Germany, where that word, doubt, was always somewhere in your consciousness. What’s this place we live in? What is happening? Why can’t we go outside? That term meant the questioning of a societal structure that was luckily overthrown in a peaceful revolution. It was a long time ago and it has been a very long way for me. I started photographing back then, so doubt is a word I think of as formative and important.

LYDYou shot five talents, each of whom embodies one of the key words Absence, Presence, Drama, Despair and Doubt. How did you decide who would represent what?

SMWorking with PLATTE, we put together a cast, using photos, Instagram profiles, and people we already knew personally. We inspired each other with ideas for potential talents and who could stand for which concept. We chose original locations, for example at Haus der Visionäre, for the club context. That was the perfect setting for Samia, who comes from the club scene. Or Juba, who we shot with in the PLATTE backyard. I didn’t know her at all before. She belongs to a completely new generation of musicians. I thought she was really great as ‘Presence’. I had already met Jette, ‘Absence’, before, at the Neue Nationalgalerie at the ‘The Clock’ exhibition. It’s incredible what she does as an artist for the new generation. Today I read a post from her where she said that art isn’t a dead-end and that there are many ways to make a living with it. For me, it’s really wonderful to experience a generation that’s present with a vision and doing creative things. That inspires me again and again. It’s great to photograph the campaign with the whole PLATTE team. That was our second collaboration after the Berlin Curated Showroom and I truly love working with them. It’s professional and at the same time somewhat calm. Whether that has to do with the fact that the place is more protected through funding? I don’t know. Haderlump started there and just opened their own store. A great path. Then at some point you need investors, private sponsors will certainly play a bigger role in Berlin in the coming years. Maybe creatives also have fears, because it feels like you’re selling your soul. But if you dream your vision and live it, then those paths can work too. 

LYDMany young people at public universities, who are now beginning to take creative paths, have a lot of doubts because of those budget cuts you mentioned at the beginning. It seems like you’re more optimistic about the future of art and culture in this country.

SMOf course I’ve already lived a majority of my life. It doesn’t even feel that long to me, and then I think, wow, it is a long time that I’ve been walking this path. For over 20 years I’ve been based in Berlin’s club culture. For me it stands for being autonomous, for counterculture, for subversiveness. That scene gave me the opportunity to do my photography without selling myself out too much. But I understand the worries of university graduates. This year, through Berlin Curated, I really noticed for the first time how many graduates come out of the Berlin fashion schools every year. The competition is big. There are many great talents. And if things like funding at universities now also disappear, I understand that you start to have doubts.

LYDAs a young person, punk, and photographer in the GDR back then, you also had to overcome many obstacles yourself. I don’t want to equate that with anything happening today, of course, but what is your advice for young people who want to take a creative path today despite all kinds of obstacles?

SMDoubt is part of my visions, in my artistic practice as well as curation. I want to curate exhibitions in a way that excites the visitor. You’re showing personal stuff, of course you’d want the reaction to take away some of those doubts. These paths are sometimes difficult, but questioning things and redefining them is important in order to not lose your vision. I also had a pause, creatively. That was an important time. When you come out of university and don’t immediately know what to do or aren’t able to do what you want to do, you need to hang on to your vision or and not lean into the doubts. Back when I was young we created fashion shows in the backyards of Prenzlauer Berg. It was all punk and New Wave. Of course today you need financial support to put on a show, but it’s much more important not to lose sight of what your work is about. Collectives like PLATTE are doing a great job at supporting young creatives in their visions and I think it’s great how people support and inspire each other there.

LYDConsidering there wasn’t really much money to be made in the GDR, doing creative things, did you and your friends just do it for yourselves back then?

SMThe subculture in Berlin today is very international. Suddenly the main language has become English, because everyone comes from all directions on earth. It’s great how mixed it all is now, but of course it wasn’t like that back then. It was a counterculture. It was this scene in East Berlin, mainly in Prenzlauer Berg, mid to late 80s. It was only a few years, but they were very formative. There were punk concerts in basements, and yes, it could happen that two hours later, or even one hour later, the police would show up and clear everything out. Berlin still stands for freedom today. We didn’t have that freedom in East Germany and we created our free spaces for ourselves. That’s how it was in our minds and in our actions. It was a very small radius, but there were exhibitions, and there were niches you had to find to show your work, which the state didn’t really want at first. But there was also the other official art sphere, the Association of Visual Artists. That was the official side, which wasn’t unimportant either. We also had mentors who were there for us. Just like I am now for another generation. They protected us and motivated us to continue. Helga Paris was my mentor for a few years. Figures of knowledge on a path that is so different are, of course, very important. That’s why PLATTE, with their patronage and NEXT-GEN competitions, are also something like mentors. They support new talents in selling their work, in a store they otherwise couldn’t afford, so they can somehow continue their own path from there. 

LYDDo you think of yourself as a mentor now?

SMDo I? Well. I’ve had a guest lecturer position at the Ostkreuz School for Photography since 2015. For me, mentorship means giving the new generation something for their path, in mutual inspiration. For me that’s also something wonderful. I’m inspired by what the new generation does. For example, this campaign with people I probably wouldn’t have met otherwise, and through that I can continue creating great moments. That is actually something very beautiful.

LYDWhen shooting this photo series, did you have some exchanges with the people of this new generation?

SMBeforehand there is always a sketch and planned make-up and styling, but the personal meeting with the people who pose for me always leads to some final changes. We went through things again and saw what we could do differently. I always have someone in the team I’ve worked with for a very long time, but I also love when a position in the team is filled by someone new. That brings another kind of input. And when I get a message from PLATTE after, saying that everyone felt really comfortable during the shoot, that is very nice. And those photos will now hang in the PLATTE shop window.

LYDWhen you work with such young creatives, does it feel as if everything around you is changing? Or does it simply remind you of yourself and your beginnings?

SM The latter. It puts my own age in perspective, because the protagonists are exactly the age I was when I started back then. It reminds me so much of our time, which was really long ago, in a completely different era. Especially the thing I already mentioned, the international flair of a big city — that didn’t exist here back then. But we still thought of ourselves as incredibly metropolitan. We always said, “New York is wherever we are.” I always have to smile at that — how sweet and arrogant we were. None of us had been to New York or knew anything about it. In 2022, so many years after the 80s, I had a residency with a gallery in New York, where I exhibited. After so many years… “New York is wherever we are.” That really was a full-circle moment for me. And it brings me back to doubt. When I was photographing in this 9-million city, it was really hard at first. It’s not my working method at all to work with people on the street or through someone. Without my assistant and my team, I wouldn’t have managed it. The exhibit came out very nice, but still there were thoughts like, “Do the photos measure up to what I did before?”, “Is this completely different?”, “What do they convey?”. Those are my moments of doubt, where I question my work again.

LYDDid New York live up to you?

SMTo my dream? I don’t feel like being in the USA right now, at all, anymore. But for a few years, New York was my favourite city. Those seven weeks there, where I did the residency, were a crazy, intense experience. Especially living in Harlem, especially put into context of where I actually grew up. It was truly a very, very wonderful experience