About Mechthild…

The German photographer Mechthild Op Gen Oorth, a member of the German Society for Photography, is a rare kind of artist. In the 1960s and 1970s, she gained recognition as a fashion photographer, winning numerous awards in Paris and Hamburg. In the 1990s, she traveled through the American South, where she photographed the last great blues musicians—using analog, black-and-white film.

She captured figures such as James Lewis Carter Ford, known as T-Model Ford, born in 1920 in Mississippi; Otis Clay, who was inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame shortly before his death; and Byther Smith, who performed alongside Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Junior Wells.

Mechthild Op Gen Oorth’s portraits of now-deceased blues musicians evoke the spirit of the Buena Vista Social Club and its legendary Cuban artists—whose stories might have been lost to time without Wim Wenders’ acclaimed film. These photographs are testimonies of a bygone era and showcase the art and craftsmanship of analog photography.

F.C. Gundlach of the German Center for Photography in Berlin once described her work:

“In her portraits, Mechthild Op Gen Oorth captures psychological depth. The portrayed subject often recedes into a contemplative, almost transcendent state. The technical execution—particularly the graininess of the prints and the use of soft focus as a deliberate compositional element—lifts the images out of reality. In this way, the photographer draws closer to the inner essence of her subjects, while simultaneously revealing her own subjective gaze.”

Reality and Photography

Photography’s interplay with reality and perception is as old as the medium itself. Humanity has long grappled with the nature of reality—and, tied to it, the question of our role as sentient beings within it.

In the 5th century BCE, the Greek philosopher Plato proposed that reality does not exist on its own, but only becomes real when manifested through human thought and action. With Plato, the human being became a creator. René Descartes condensed this in the 17th century with his famous dictum: cogito, ergo sum — I think, therefore I am.

From early on, humans have sought to preserve their existence for future generations. The cave paintings of the Stone Age remain so captivating because they present humanity as active creators in a perceived world.

When, in 1826, Joseph Nicéphore Niépce captured the first photograph in history—a view from his studio in Le Gras, France - it marked the dawn of a new era. The long exposure shows the frame of a window, a dovecote tower, a tree, a gabled roof, and a chimney—no people yet, as the hours-long exposure couldn’t record movement.

Over time, other photographic genres emerged: portraiture, and, in the early 20th century, war photography. The photograph became both evidence and interpreter of the world and its conflicts.

In 1947, MAGNUM - the iconic photo agency - was founded by Robert Capa and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Capa’s legendary image of a Republican soldier at the moment of death shaped generations’ understanding of the Spanish Civil War.

The digital revolution transformed photography into mass commodity. Image editing software stole its authenticity—and with it, its role as a proof of reality. Yet even then, it was still the human hand shaping the image.

Now, in the age of artificial intelligence, human creativity is becoming increasingly obsolete. Descartes' cogito ergo sumbegins to lose its significance. The human being is no longer creator, but consumer—reduced from subject to object. Soon, the marketplace will overflow with perfect, yet sterile, images—and we’ll be forced to ask: What remains of the original charm of analog photography? What remains of that irreproducible moment? Of the uniqueness of human experience?

One need only recall the iconic image of the sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square on the day World War II ended.

A Photographer as Rare as the Times Themselves

Photographs captivate us when they tell human stories—like those by Vivian Maier, the nanny whose remarkable black-and-white images of 1950s and ’60s New York were only discovered posthumously. Or the work of German photographer Fred Herzog, who emigrated to Vancouver after World War II and documented the West Coast of Canada.

Mechthild Op Gen Oorth’s photographs from the American South—alongside her images from 1990s East Berlin and the old Brussels once sung about by Jacques Brel—tell stories steeped in emotion and presence. They reveal the human being as the creator of his or her perceived reality.

All works are analog toned gelatine silver prints. Each print is a one-of-a-kind—just like each moment in life is a singular experience.

Leo Fritz Gruber, collector, curator, and founder of Photokina, once said:

“I have known Mechthild Op Gen Oorth for many years through her exhibitions. She is a rare kind of photographer—an artist who merges concept and craft seamlessly. Her work is predominantly black-and-white, and in contrast to much of what is shown today, her photographs exude a calming stillness. Precisely for that reason, they strike even more deeply. Her subjects seem to float on the white background of the print. Her U.S. photographs are more raw and high-contrast - capturing those shades of grey that define life itself.”