Mischa Fanghaenel: Photographer First, Bouncer Second

It was unusual to see Mischa Fanghaenel on a bench with a coffee in his hands when most people know him from standing in front of one of Berlin’s most notorious doors. Though it is too blunt to put all of Mischa’s persona into the word bouncer. He is a father, husband and photographer —layers of a life that resist simple categorization.

We met in late summer when we still could sit outside on a bench that shifted the interview into a conversation about emotions, the pulse of Berlin, and the way he perceives life with his own eyes. Life consists of complexities and Mischa doesn’t like to simplify it into categories. Much like his own persona and photographs, Mischa constantly challenges stigmatized images that fail to embrace complexity and ambiguity.

Berlin’s club scene is often distilled into clichés—black clothing, drugs, days without sleep. Yet, as Mischa points out, the essence runs deeper. It’s not just about indulgence; it’s about belonging. People are drawn to spaces where they can shed the day’s persona and reveal something more authentic, often under the cover of night. This is the feeling that birthed NACHTS, his black-and-white series that leaves room for viewers to interpret, filling the stark imagery with their own narratives.

After our conversation it became very clear that for Mischa, his photography—and his role at the door—follow the same principle. It’s a way of living, a deep and genuine fascination with human lives, unfolding both in light and shadow.

SLEEK: What was your approach to photography? Did you pursue it academically as well?

Mischa Fanghaenel: It was a long time ago, back in my mid-20s, when I was training with a photographer. That experience ended with me going home in tears, so I decided to teach myself and became self-taught.

S: Your photographs are mostly black and white. Why did you make this stylistic choice?

MF: I love color, but I think the way color is perceived is very subjective. With black and white you let your mind work a little more, it creates a deeper level. Photography can never fully capture reality, so I like the approach of needing to add one’s own fantasy with black and white photography. 

S: How does photographing the people change your relationship to them?

MF: Many people believe they won’t look good in photos, but I strive to prove the opposite. It’s a beautiful experience to show them the beauty they possess, and seeing their eyes light up when they view the final images is something truly special.

S: Since your pictures are black and white pictures, allowing space for personal interpretation, do you ever imagine colors when you look back at them?

MF: I find that I can spend more time looking at black-and-white photographs; they engage my mind in a deeper way, like a movie unfolding. You start to focus on different features of the face—how some areas are brighter than others—and this heightened contrast creates a sense of something almost glittering.

S: Is this why the theme of the night and darkness is a reoccurring motif in your work?

MF: That is an interesting take since in the night, colors are usually disappearing. The first association with the night I have is calmness. Probably because I never was an early bird and mostly stayed up all night, often because of work. Then I would flee into the night, to explore photography and have the liberating feeling of being all alone. I always had my camera on me during my night walks. Photographing is nothing new to me, it was just never something that I considered to be my job til I started to exhibit my work.

S: A significant part of your work focuses on redefining the stereotypes surrounding Berlin’s nightlife. You often use the term ‘redefining normality’ in this context. What’s another word you would use to describe it instead of ‘normal’?

MF: Freedom. I think that Berlin’s nightlife just reflects the character of the city. It is not the friendliest city but still the most open-minded one. You can do almost anything without people looking at you weirdly. That is also why I initially started my NACHTS series, to put the picture right that most people falsely have about club culture. You can escape into the darkness and the music where you don’t need to sing along to; you can just go inside and party with the crowds. It is celebrating our differences and the feeling of everyone being together, completely unprejudiced.  That is electronic music to me. It doesn’t matter where you come from or who you are. The music inside transcends all barriers. Of course the scene has changed over the years —also through social media — but I wouldn’t necessarily say that it is negative, it just mirrors the current state of our society. 

S: In your NACHTS series you capture the essence of nightlife just with the simplicity of black and white portraits. What was the process to get this result?

MF: The only requirement for the people I photographed was that I had seen them while working at the door. For the photos, I used a lot of flash to create sharp contrasts in lighting, mimicking the effect of dance floor lights. I enjoy it when the backgrounds don’t immediately reveal the context, allowing the interplay of shadows and light to tell the story instead.

S: Through photography, the way you perceive the world must have changed too. How do you look at people? Do you look at people differently through the camera lens than when you are standing at the door?

MF: I only get a brief glimpse of a person at the door and hope to see beyond their exterior to create a great environment. However, when I’m behind the camera, I have much more time to connect with someone. The real beauty lies in witnessing people over time as they change and explore themselves. I know that a single weekend immersed in the nightlife can lead to experiences that transcend the walls of a club, bringing joy into their everyday lives.

S: Then both of your jobs, whether photographing or standing at the door have the connection of just being interested in human lives.

MF: I first photographed at 12 years old when my brother was born. I just felt like it was something special and took my dad’s equipment. Photography has always captivated me, and I’ve always seen myself as a photographer. I believe that both of my jobs allow me to bring joy to others on a much larger scale than I can in my everyday life.

S: Is photographing for you like a way to process life?

MF: I want to explore and capture moments; capture what I think is beautiful. Now I feel like, I am creating those images myself, not only reciprocating what I see. I am not sure, if the camera taking pictures is me processing life or if me going out on a walk at night is the process in itself. What I create continues to live on when people view it — or even buy it —and their minds generate their own stories; that is what feels most fulfilling to me.

S: Was it a scary step to also put yourself out as a photographer after working at the door?

MF: For most of my life, I was content with my wife and my work. I had a vast collection of photographs that I had never published, and I began to reflect on where I wanted to position myself. Then, in the fall of 2016, I held my first exhibition, which showcased my work and presented me in a new light. There were moments of self-doubt, but I also understood that my life didn’t depend on it. I believe my perspective is influenced by my age; I recognize that I have a life beyond photography, even if it doesn’t achieve the success I hope for. But then, I was even more grateful that my work was received so positively.

S: When one googles your name, the first thing that pops up is Berghain bouncer. Is that something that bothers you?

MF: I don’t mind. I have been photographing much longer than I have been a bouncer but I do still enjoy the nightlife even though I don’t really go clubbing on the weekends anymore. Maybe the next step is for people to write bouncer and photographer and then just only photographer.