Ahead of his solo exhibition at David Zwirner Hong Kong opening during the city's art week, the German artist tells Tatler why seeing art in real life is an irreplaceable experience
Branches long and short, and leaves in varying shades of green and yellow in an assortment of sizes fill your vision as soon as you set foot in Wolfgang Tillmans’ airy Berlin studio. The sheer size of the space in a 1930s modernist building—four large rooms, covering 7,000 square feet among them—gives Tillmans the space to present his photographs in large format, with some being life-sized portraits.
In fact, one of his works, Window Left Open (2023), offers a glimpse of this foliage through Tillmans’ studio window, framed by leafy branches. Taken at twilight, the image reflects a reddish-pink shadow that creates a nightclub-like effect. It will be on view at the artist’s forthcoming exhibition, The Point is Matter, in Hong Kong, opening on March 25. This is the artist’s fifth solo exhibition with David Zwirner and his second in Hong Kong.
Tillmans’ impact and influence go far beyond the world of art and photography. He is known for making acute observations and capturing the cultural pulse of the moment. Some of those observations are timeless. “I want to strengthen what I feel is lacking,” he says. “At the same time, this positive outlook does not mean that I am not highly critically observing contemporary life and politics.” One of his most iconic works, The Cock (kiss) (2002), depicting two men in the midst of a passionate kiss, went viral after the devastating 2016 shooting at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida.
When Tatler visited his studio in October last year, the photo was displayed in his studio next to Adam bleached out, a striking image Tillmans took of a friend in 1991, captured crouching down and depicted in radiating hues of orange, as if he were caught in a blast of light.
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Lying on the floor in front of these two photographs was a maquette of David Zwirner’s Hong Kong gallery. Tillmans pulls out small printouts of a few of the works that he was contemplating including in the Hong Kong show. “It’s all very much in germination right now, but perhaps in a way I’m imagining the show [in Hong Kong] to be an extension of my studio” he says.
The exhibition will feature a mix of old and new works. Newer ones, including Sirius Through a Defocused Telescope (2023) and Temporary Shoe Shop (2022), continue a consistent thread in the artist’s practice of creating an atmospheric effect and encapsulating a strong sense of environment. For the former, he took a defocused shot of the titular constellation through a telescope; the resulting image is of the myriad colours that make up the star’s twinkling; the latter depicts shoes laid out on a car outside a concert venue in Lagos, Nigeria.
Tillmans’ creative process extends beyond the instant of clicking the shutter and the subsequent treatment of the images. In addition to his photographic works, he creates installations and “spatial configurations”, as he calls them, “which of course I can make in models but it really becomes alive in the space [of an exhibition]”. The artist works extensively in the space he will exhibit in, starting anywhere from ten days to two weeks before the show. In those instances, “the gallery actually becomes the studio,” he says.
The multifaceted artist also writes and makes music— in fact, he has a new album due out on April 12, Build From Here—and his exhibitions often have an audio component. In his 2018 Hong Kong show, he recorded the city’s traffic sounds and played them in the gallery. For his upcoming exhibition, he also plans to install a video element with sound.

Above Wolfgang Tillmans photographed in his Berlin studio (Photo: Mustafah Abdulaziz)
Tillmans puts as much care, consideration and deliberation into the images he produces as he does into staging his exhibitions. “What you’ll see in the gallery in Hong Kong are objects of a real scale and dimension that you can’t see anywhere other than in that place.” The impact of viewing his work cannot be reproduced on a phone or computer screen; you need to stand in front of his prints to get a sense of the environment and moment they project. “Now everybody is constantly taking pictures and missing out on living in the moment with our own eyes rather than the projection of what they hope it looks like through the camera lens.”
There is an authenticity in Tillman’s intention, a genuine curiosity that underlies his work, coming from a desire to capture moments. “There is something slow and stubborn about art that [means] you have to see it where it actually is; you have to go it,” he says. “It’s interesting that art is always a step ahead, even though everything else is becoming ever more available and fluid, and people expect everything to be at their disposal and free of charge.”
From simple, seemingly ordinary scenes such as a pair of jeans hanging on a banister in grey jeans over stair post (1991) or a collection of ceramic sculptures as seen in Vessels (2019), Tillmans “waits for a specific moment that seems right” to take a photograph. “I live with them [the objects he depicts] and contemplate, and then they become a picture.”
He cites another example, a still life he took in Los Angeles in 2001 depicting a playful array of oranges and an LA newspaper, that will be on view in Hong Kong; the piece reflects a time where he slowed down to observe and soak in his surroundings, and frame the present. “I really try to keep a sense of normality and attentiveness, no matter how busy my life is.”
While the artist’s life has always been busy, the 2000s was when things really kicked off: he won the coveted Turner Prize in 2000, the first photographer and first non-British artist to do so. The years that followed saw him stage numerous solo exhibitions at galleries and museums. He was also the first artist to have solo exhibitions at both London’s Tate Britain (2002) and Tate Modern (2017). Most recently, last autumn, he put on a solo show, Fold Me, at David Zwirner New York, following To Look Without Fear at New York’s MoMA in the autumn 2022.
The MoMA show was a particularly important moment in Tillmans’ career, reflecting on a body of work that spans almost four decades. Among the works on view, there were images from his iconic series that documents nightlife, as well as underground and queer culture, taken from the 1980s onwards. He explains that he doesn’t agree with the categorisation of his nightlife images as a “body of work” because it’s ongoing. “I still go out and photograph places. From day one, I’ve photographed nightlife in order to be a witness to what went on, in particular to feel the liberation, freedom and spirit I experienced,” of witnessing openly queer culture, he says. “I realised that 50 years ago, or even 200 or 500 years ago, it wasn’t possible; and when you look around globe, it’s probably still not possible in many places.”
When he started photographing scenes of nightlife, the experience was novel. There was a sense of freedom and reflection in the raw expression of capturing those images. He still feels the urgency to rapidly document and publish images to share with the world. His creative output throughout his career has been constant and prolific. In 1995, when Tillmans was just 26, he published a monograph of his work with Taschen. It was an unconventional opportunity for a young artist who ran the risk of being labelled and categorised too early by the art world, but according to Tillmans, “I just wanted it out in the world, disseminated across the globe, because then it just cannot be undone.”

Above Tillmans’ “Suzanne & Lutz, white dress, army skirt” (1994) (Photo: courtesy of David Zwirner, New York/Hong Kong; Galerie Buchholz, Berlin/Cologne; and Maureen Paley, London)
While many of Tillmans’ photographs chronicle significant cultural and sociopolitical subject matter, he has also turned his lens onto topics more personal in nature, including places that were significant in his past. Glimpses of these will be on view in the Hong Kong show, such as the house he grew up in Germany and a 2011 shot of his old studio in London, which viewers see first as they enter the gallery. Although mementos of his past constantly feature in exhibitions, Tillmans doesn’t quite like the idea of indulging in nostalgia. “Philosophically, I like to think of myself as being very much of the moment, living life in the here and now,” he says. “But I think what I’m doing all my life is coping with nostalgia and learning to let go.”
Among the oldest work in the exhibition is Badehose, photocopy II (1994), which depicts a pair of red Adidas swimming trunks. “Sometimes I punctuate an exhibition of new work with something that is 20 years older,” he says. This allows viewers to draw their own connections across time and place through the images, similar to how to the artist views exhibition spaces as extensions of his studio space, and perhaps why he chose to include the snap of his old London studio from more than a decade ago.
After almost 40 years of capturing moments, Tillmans continues to strive to make his work timeless. “I need to see if that continuity really exists, which is something that you will see if your work is in fact relevant.”
The ability to connect with viewers across multiple generations and places shows the enduring nature of his work. But there’s no room for complacency when you’re leaving the kind of mark Tillmans has. “There’s never safety, I’m never comfortable, and it’s [the work] never done”.
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