Zollverein Infrared I

This photographic base was shot at "Zeche Zollverein" - an industrial monument of a former cole mine and UNESCO world heritage site in Essen, Germany - with a modified Infrared Camera.

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) - Open Edition.

The Coal is Long Gone, But the Sky Has Yet to Decide.

When viewing Zollverein Infrared, the latest work by Thomas Haensgen, it feels as though someone dipped the brush of reality briefly into a mix of surrealism and digital science fiction. Before us stands the iconic conveyor tower of the Zollverein mine—typically a symbol of the industrial power of the Ruhr Valley—but here, it is wrapped in an almost unreal pinkish veil. The infrared color scheme yanks the scene from its historical and geographical roots and catapults it into an alternate space, where past and future shake hands only to bewilderedly ask, "Now what?"

The sky, drenched in an electric pink, feels like a plea for a post-apocalypse that simply made a wrong color choice for its dystopia. The harsh geometric steel framework stands out against this illogical softness, reminding us that industrial aesthetics remain indestructible, even when the color channel of reality is switched to LSD. The image raises the question: What remains of a monument when we detach it from its time? The answer: a feeling somewhere between nostalgia and interstellar confusion.

Haensgen’s work could be placed within the tradition of New Objectivity—Otto Dix would be thrilled with this cool precision—if it weren’t also a bit of a trickster. Here, visual seriousness flirts with humor, evoking the feeling you get when your roommate suggests you take out the trash while living amidst the chaos of a pizza box. The color scheme takes something once heavy and dark and makes it as absurd as a painting hung deliberately crooked.

The references to infrared photography lend the image a quasi-scientific touch, but that’s a trap. For “scientific” here serves as a disguise for a deeply human play with perception. You might wonder: Did Haensgen try to save the Ruhr Valley by transplanting it into the psyche of an 80s synth-pop album? Or is it all just an accident, where the sky decided to dress up for a meeting with Blade Runner 2049?

What makes this work special is its indecision. It neither screams symbolism nor futurism; it stands somewhere in between—like the feeling you have when, after a stressful day, you decide to make spaghetti, only to find there’s no tomato sauce. It’s this hesitation, this mix of control and loss of control, that makes the image so alive.