3 months ago
222
6
Posted On: July 16th 2026, 06:32 am
Dear F.C.,
Born on July 16, 1926, in Heinebach, Hesse: This combination of numbers and words sounds like something from another era. To me, you will always be connected to the city of Hamburg. And ever since you left this world, there have been hardly any reasons left for me to visit that city.
You, that great man, with the gold buttons on your jacket. I miss the visits to your home on Parkallee, the conversations by the grand window overlooking the garden, our discussions about photography, your references to art history, and your immediate requests to the foundation staff to please fetch a work from the archive.
Breakfast in your apartment at that little table, another view of the garden. The small kitchen, the many books, and wonderful art on the walls, that silently bore witness to your life and your collecting.
Then your final home—a top-class nursing home, more like a hotel with wonderful staff. The small exercise and activity groups there, which you didn’t want to join, a group lunch. All of that felt too foreign to you. The conversations grew fewer, and I simply sat with you and held your hand.
From the very beginning, my entire career was intertwined with yours. Karin Lisewski from the ifa Institute, a friend of my mother’s, had arranged an internship for me at your company, PPS (Professional Photo Service). In Berlin, PPS was located on Hirtenstraße, between the Berliner Verlag and Volksbühne. From then on, people always said, “He’s the boss’s guy.”
The rest is history. It was one of the greatest joys of my life to walk through the streets of New York with you in 2010 after my first exhibition at Camera Work Berlin and to eat oysters at Grand Central Station. You, the man of the world! Thank you.
Yours, Andreas
@f.c.gundlach.foundation @deichtorhallenhamburg #hamburg #fcgundlach #icon #romyschneider
Born on July 16, 1926, in Heinebach, Hesse: This combination of numbers and words sounds like something from another era. To me, you will always be connected to the city of Hamburg. And ever since you left this world, there have been hardly any reasons left for me to visit that city.
You, that great man, with the gold buttons on your jacket. I miss the visits to your home on Parkallee, the conversations by the grand window overlooking the garden, our discussions about photography, your references to art history, and your immediate requests to the foundation staff to please fetch a work from the archive.
Breakfast in your apartment at that little table, another view of the garden. The small kitchen, the many books, and wonderful art on the walls, that silently bore witness to your life and your collecting.
Then your final home—a top-class nursing home, more like a hotel with wonderful staff. The small exercise and activity groups there, which you didn’t want to join, a group lunch. All of that felt too foreign to you. The conversations grew fewer, and I simply sat with you and held your hand.
From the very beginning, my entire career was intertwined with yours. Karin Lisewski from the ifa Institute, a friend of my mother’s, had arranged an internship for me at your company, PPS (Professional Photo Service). In Berlin, PPS was located on Hirtenstraße, between the Berliner Verlag and Volksbühne. From then on, people always said, “He’s the boss’s guy.”
The rest is history. It was one of the greatest joys of my life to walk through the streets of New York with you in 2010 after my first exhibition at Camera Work Berlin and to eat oysters at Grand Central Station. You, the man of the world! Thank you.
Yours, Andreas
@f.c.gundlach.foundation @deichtorhallenhamburg #hamburg #fcgundlach #icon #romyschneider
Comments (6)
More posts
