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Annemarie Schwarzenbach with her twin-lens Rolleiflex Standard 621 camera. Portrait by Anita Forrer, Malans, Switzerland, 1938. Original photograph is in the Swiss Literary Archives (SLA). Online sources: Helvetica Archives; Strange Flowers (WordPress) & Self portraits of the world
So, what eventually remains?
This simple question is not new to me—it arises every time I come across a photograph, one of the few surviving pieces of evidence of someone’s life. A snapshot as testimony, as a witness, as a proof that the story behind the imprint of a person is not merely a product of the writer’s imagination. For a few (or at times, sadly, too few) decades someone existed, cherishing hopes, fighting personal battles, struggling for freedom and integrity, trying to make a difference. And then, they were gone.
Yesterday, in an attempt to put a face to the intriguing story of Annemarie Schwarzenbach whose name I encountered in Lucie Azema’s book Donne in Viaggio (Women on a Journey) I found this: an image of a slender, elegant figure with a Rolleiflex Standard 621 resting on her lap and the punctum of a cigarette lit between her fingers. It is the only portrait in which Annemarie returns the photographer’s (and, by extension, our) gaze—a firm yet delicate exchange, balanced by the rhythmic shadow of the staircase in the background, forming a silent affirmation of her existence.
Yesterday, in an attempt to put a face to the intriguing story of Annemarie Schwarzenbach whose name I encountered in Lucie Azema’s book Donne in Viaggio (Women on a Journey) I found this: an image of a slender, elegant figure with a Rolleiflex Standard 621 resting on her lap and the punctum of a cigarette lit between her fingers. It is the only portrait in which Annemarie returns the photographer’s (and, by extension, our) gaze—a firm yet delicate exchange, balanced by the rhythmic shadow of the staircase in the background, forming a silent affirmation of her existence.
Photograph: Dick Lau
In the course of history, the concept of "home" has been constantly undergoing radical transformations. Wars, genocides, and repressions force people to leave their homes for places promising greater safety. On the other hand, authoritative regimes often carry out mass deportations for political, ethnic, or military reasons, leading to immense suffering and loss of life. The examples from the previous century may include the Armenian Genocide Deportations (1915-1917) and the Soviet Forced Deportations (1930s-1950s) made under the Stalin’s rule. Current situation is not promising peace and hope either.
But for the Hong Kong-based photographer and curator Dick Lau, home has always been a fluid concept, closely tied to time rather than space. His project (also existing in the form of the photobook that saw the light thanks to “Case Publishing”, Japan) consists of three parts—"Origin," "Diminish," and "Return"—each exploring the meaningful shift of home throughout different life stages. Lau's personal experiences and memories form the foundation of this series and highlight the transient and evolving nature of family and belonging.
Lau’s private history deeply influences his work. Raised by Grandmother, he later moved in with his parents and siblings, only to witness the divorce of the former. Forced to work extensively from a young age due to financial struggles, the man gradually distanced from the traditional notion of home as a place of warmth and security. But, fortunately, at a certain point photography became his tool for introspection and healing and, as Dick himself explains in the interview for “Bird in Flight”, helped redefine the meaning of family. So, for the artist his "Home" project turned out to be not just a reflection of his journey but also a broader exploration of identity, belonging, and emotional ties.
But for the Hong Kong-based photographer and curator Dick Lau, home has always been a fluid concept, closely tied to time rather than space. His project (also existing in the form of the photobook that saw the light thanks to “Case Publishing”, Japan) consists of three parts—"Origin," "Diminish," and "Return"—each exploring the meaningful shift of home throughout different life stages. Lau's personal experiences and memories form the foundation of this series and highlight the transient and evolving nature of family and belonging.
Lau’s private history deeply influences his work. Raised by Grandmother, he later moved in with his parents and siblings, only to witness the divorce of the former. Forced to work extensively from a young age due to financial struggles, the man gradually distanced from the traditional notion of home as a place of warmth and security. But, fortunately, at a certain point photography became his tool for introspection and healing and, as Dick himself explains in the interview for “Bird in Flight”, helped redefine the meaning of family. So, for the artist his "Home" project turned out to be not just a reflection of his journey but also a broader exploration of identity, belonging, and emotional ties.
Photograph: Dick Lau
Lau sees photography as a means of survival and comprehension rather than mere documentation. Inspired by Antoine d'Agata’s view that photography forces acknowledgment of reality, he uses art to process complex feelings and societal changes. His projects challenge viewers to reconsider their own notions of home, urging them to appreciate fleeting moments and familial bonds while they last.
In “Home” series, Lau tells a deeply personal yet universally resonant story of growth, loss, and the continuous search for belonging. His work invites reflection on how we construct and reconstruct home, emphasizing that it is, above all, a function of time and experience.
“Transition” is a new project Dick Lau has recently started working on. Staying focused on the topic of home and adapting a similar visual tool he experimented with in the part called “Diminish”, this time the artist adds a sharper socio-political dimension. The new portraits of Hong Kong families in the empty, ghost-like, environment suggest reflections on the temporary existence of humans, their vulnerability and exploitation by the capitalistic real estate tycoons.
“The topic of home is very complex, whether in Hong Kong, Asia, or the entire world, as there are different situations and stories. Life is unpredictable, and so is home, which is why the topic continues to evolve,” comments Dick for “Form Magazine”.
Housing affordability is a major concern in Hong Kong, where high property prices often determine social status. For working-class families and recent university graduates, home ownership is largely out of reach, with housing costs consuming more than half of their income.
In “Home” series, Lau tells a deeply personal yet universally resonant story of growth, loss, and the continuous search for belonging. His work invites reflection on how we construct and reconstruct home, emphasizing that it is, above all, a function of time and experience.
“Transition” is a new project Dick Lau has recently started working on. Staying focused on the topic of home and adapting a similar visual tool he experimented with in the part called “Diminish”, this time the artist adds a sharper socio-political dimension. The new portraits of Hong Kong families in the empty, ghost-like, environment suggest reflections on the temporary existence of humans, their vulnerability and exploitation by the capitalistic real estate tycoons.
“The topic of home is very complex, whether in Hong Kong, Asia, or the entire world, as there are different situations and stories. Life is unpredictable, and so is home, which is why the topic continues to evolve,” comments Dick for “Form Magazine”.
Housing affordability is a major concern in Hong Kong, where high property prices often determine social status. For working-class families and recent university graduates, home ownership is largely out of reach, with housing costs consuming more than half of their income.
Photograph: Dick Lau
The so-called “subdivided flats” are a distinctive feature of Hong Kong’s housing landscape. They can be defined as apartments split into two or more separate units to house more people, when original partition walls are removed, and new ones are erected. Many hongkongers have to live in such flats or other similarly undesirable conditions in old residential buildings. The median living area per person of a subdivided flat was found to be 40 square feet for small suite and 30 square feet (2.8 sqm) for cubicle in 2009.
However, despite poor living conditions, subdivided units remain the only affordable option for many low-income residents who struggle with the city’s exorbitant rental prices. In an effort to address this issue and alleviate social discontent, the Hong Kong government introduced transitional housing policies. While this initiative provides temporary relief, it does not offer a long-term solution, leaving the future housing prospects of these residents uncertain.
The rising number of subdivided units, exacerbated by economic downturns, has sparked widespread public dissatisfaction. In response, the government launched a transitional housing program designed to provide temporary shelter and ease social tensions. However, with limited availability and a maximum residency period of two to three years, the program serves only as a short-term measure. Once their residency ends, tenants must seek new accommodation, often facing the same affordability challenges.
Through this photography project, Dick Lau seeks to document the experiences of families living in such transitional housing and explore whether they perceive these spaces as home. "Many beneficiaries express gratitude for the government’s assistance”, Dick says, “and agree that, despite its temporary nature, transitional housing does provide a sense of stability—at least for the time being.”
However, despite poor living conditions, subdivided units remain the only affordable option for many low-income residents who struggle with the city’s exorbitant rental prices. In an effort to address this issue and alleviate social discontent, the Hong Kong government introduced transitional housing policies. While this initiative provides temporary relief, it does not offer a long-term solution, leaving the future housing prospects of these residents uncertain.
The rising number of subdivided units, exacerbated by economic downturns, has sparked widespread public dissatisfaction. In response, the government launched a transitional housing program designed to provide temporary shelter and ease social tensions. However, with limited availability and a maximum residency period of two to three years, the program serves only as a short-term measure. Once their residency ends, tenants must seek new accommodation, often facing the same affordability challenges.
Through this photography project, Dick Lau seeks to document the experiences of families living in such transitional housing and explore whether they perceive these spaces as home. "Many beneficiaries express gratitude for the government’s assistance”, Dick says, “and agree that, despite its temporary nature, transitional housing does provide a sense of stability—at least for the time being.”
Photograph: Dick Lau
“We do not know if the policies will bring about change. For residents, the future is uncertain,” - shares his vision of future Dick Lau. “Currently, the Hong Kong government is facing a fiscal deficit, and property prices are starting to fall, leading to other economic issues. People often compare Hong Kong with Singapore. Hongkongers can only hope for stable and peaceful resolution of the international conflict, US-China relations, and an economic recovery which might increase their income and improve their living conditions. I believe the government needs a steadfast long-term plan to address the difficulties of grassroots citizens, reduce the wealth gap, and alleviate intergenerational poverty. These are issues that span 10 to 20 years and cannot be resolved in the short term.”
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