Lonely in Hong Kong

This photographic base was shot in Hong Kong. 

Printed on Fine Art Hahnemühle Hemp Natural Line 290 g/m2.

Each print comes signed and numbered. 

Unframed. With a small white border. Send in a tube.

Print size 90 x 75 cm - Edition of 10

Print size 60 x 50 cm - Edition of 10.

Print size 30 x 25 cm - Edition of 10.

Print size 10,5 x 14,8 cm (DIN A6) - Edition of 100.

Between light and shadow – a city that never asks why you’re alone.”

Thomas Haensgen’s Lonely in Hong Kong is like that moment when you’re standing by an open window at night, a half-empty cup of tea in your hand, wondering if the faint hum of the streetlights is actually your heartbeat. This image is more than an act; it’s an invitation into the fleeting moment where intimacy and isolation form an odd, unspoken alliance.

At the center is a body, half-hidden and half-revealed by a curtain, as if the world has decided to both watch and look away simultaneously. The play of light and shadow, sharp yet soft, feels like it belongs in a noir film where the director forgot to write the script—and that’s the point. Haensgen creates a tension that could easily belong to Saul Leiter on a dark, philosophical day.

The structure of the fabric frames the body like a painting refusing to stay on the canvas. The sky outside appears indifferent, a silent observer both part of the room and impossibly distant. It’s almost impossible not to think of Edward Hopper’s paintings, where light plays the lead role and solitude writes the screenplay. But Haensgen flips the narrative: here, loneliness isn’t monumental but tender—like a note you write to yourself to remind you that you exist.

This piece challenges the viewer’s expectations. The lines of the body are familiar yet foreign, a visual dialogue asking whether intimacy is still possible in a world that never stops moving. Haensgen pulls off the feat of turning the mundane into the profound—as if a trivial sound, like the hum of a fan, suddenly becomes the soundtrack to your own little tragedy.

Lonely in Hong Kong isn’t just a work of art; it’s a feeling. A portrait of the quiet moments where we search for ourselves the loudest—only to hear the whisper of the wind slipping through a half-closed curtain.