New York City (far)

This photographic base was shot in New York City.

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.

Horizon(s) – A City in Search of Its Reflection.

Thomas Haensgen’s New York City (far) from the Urban Reflection series is the kind of artwork that pulls you into a visual thought spiral—like that moment when you drink the last drop of coffee and wonder if you’ve inadvertently sealed the fate of the bean. At first glance, the photograph seems to present a flawless skyline, mirrored in perfect symmetry. But then you realize: this reflection is no mere depiction—it’s a subtle meditation on the duality of metropolises and their meaning.

The image plays with distance, both physical and emotional. Unlike New York City (close), which captivates with intimate proximity, New York City (far) lifts the viewer, as if in a dream, one that is both tangible and unattainable. The city appears like a memory—precise in its details yet elusive in its essence. It feels as though Haensgen has captured a moment in which New York gazes into eternity, only to catch itself staring back in wonder.

Haensgen’s technique of dissolving the mirrored plane into the sky lends the image a quiet, almost metaphysical quality. One might think of Caspar David Friedrich’s romantic landscapes, but without the human presence; here, the city itself becomes the individual, gazing at the horizon and contemplating its own existence. Yet, unlike Friedrich’s monumental solitude, there’s a subtle humor at play—a kind of urban self-irony that mocks our persistent attempts to understand cities as if they were simply collections of buildings.

This work could also be seen as an urban homage to the surreal precision of Hiroshi Sugimoto or the playful perspective reversals of Vivian Maier. But where Sugimoto experiments with time and Maier flirts with movement, Haensgen lingers in an oddly meditative moment—like a New York taxi deciding to stall in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge just to savor the view.

In the end, New York City (far) is more than a work of art. It’s a lingering thought, like the taste of salt after spending too long by the sea. Haensgen invites us to reflect—not just on the reflections in water, but on those within ourselves. Perhaps the image isn’t a city at all. Perhaps it’s simply the feeling of dreaming about New York while the world keeps turning.