51still together. He is a DJ. He has a
child who’s 26 now - he was very lit-
tle when I met his father, just three
at the time. Sometimes he’d sleep
under the record players!
In my late 40s, I became ill and
couldn’t work as much, just Thurs-
day and Saturday nights. I started to
use my time to walk around the city,
looking at all the artwork turning up
on the walls, street artists putting up
paste-ups and stencils, and I started
photographing it. And then I worked
with a publisher, turning these pho-
tos into six books on street art. Pho-
tography came at a good time for me;
it was after the 2008 recession when
nobody wanted to employ a DJ and
gigs were hard to find. I stayed afloat
by selling books and giving lectures.
At about the same time, I was asked
to work with another DJ at the Yellow
Lounge, a club in Hamburg - DJing
with classical music. I did this club
with another DJ for seven years,
working with classical musicians who
were keen to do more unorthodox
avant-garde stuff.
My father died 20 years ago, at- He was ill for the last six years of
his life. When he was 70, he had a
hemorrhage and was left partly para-
lysed. It became very difficult for him
to write. I was in Italy when I heard
the news that he’d had a stroke and
it took me about 24 hours to be at
his bedside. He’d been waiting for
me, and he died not long after. He
was an artist, a journalist, a fiction
writer, but he was also a good man.
My mother is 83 now. Actually,
we just came home from Rome yes-
terday. My God, she is wearing me
out! She doesn’t see very well and
walks with a cane, but we walked 15
kilometres in Rome. When we ar-
rived at the hotel, she said, “When
are we going to eat something? First
I need a cocktail.” I hope I’m exactly
like her when I’m her age.
51 Portraits LETTERS FROM COPENHAGENstill together. He is a DJ. He has a
child who’s 26 now - he was very lit-
tle when I met his father, just three
at the time. Sometimes he’d sleep
under the record players!
In my late 40s, I became ill and
couldn’t work as much, just Thurs-
day and Saturday nights. I started to
use my time to walk around the city,
looking at all the artwork turning up
on the walls, street artists putting up
paste-ups and stencils, and I started
photographing it. And then I worked
with a publisher, turning these pho-
tos into six books on street art. Pho-
tography came at a good time for me;
it was after the 2008 recession when
nobody wanted to employ a DJ and
gigs were hard to find. I stayed afloat
by selling books and giving lectures.
At about the same time, I was asked
to work with another DJ at the Yellow
Lounge, a club in Hamburg - DJing
with classical music. I did this club
with another DJ for seven years,
working with classical musicians who
were keen to do more unorthodox
avant-garde stuff.
My father died 20 years ago, at
- He was ill for the last six years of
his life. When he was 70, he had a
hemorrhage and was left partly para-
lysed. It became very difficult for him
to write. I was in Italy when I heard
the news that he’d had a stroke and
it took me about 24 hours to be at
his bedside. He’d been waiting for
me, and he died not long after. He
was an artist, a journalist, a fiction
writer, but he was also a good man.
My mother is 83 now. Actually,
we just came home from Rome yes-
terday. My God, she is wearing me
out! She doesn’t see very well and
walks with a cane, but we walked 15
kilometres in Rome. When we ar-
rived at the hotel, she said, “When
are we going to eat something? First
I need a cocktail.” I hope I’m exactly
like her when I’m her age.
Portraits LETTERS FROM COPENHAGEN