SEPTEMBER UNTIL NOVEMBER 2013
Maurice Haas’photographs can also be purchased independently of the exhibition.
Tilda Swinton lay down in the autumn leaves for him: in Zurich and in broad daylight, so to speak. Peter Beard smokes a cigarette in full camera shot in a bar in New York. Later, in his apartment, he puts on a gorilla mask. Susan Sarandon’s face is turned to one side, her pensiveness the light the photographer grants her. And Bruno Ganz is an inhabitant of a frigid zone of the heart, a sceptic from the permafrost, as he looks through the car windscreen into Maurice Haas’s camera. It is late December, and it appears as if the actor – the soul of discretion himself – knew that on the other side of the glass, equally discreet, sits a brother-in-arms. Is it a moment of complicity en passant, however fleeting? Maurice Haas’s pictures give us no answers. They are brief, quiet moments of trust, and they speak the language of emotion. They are drawings with light. They – simply – are. And we all know how difficult simplicity is.