Jonas Richter doesn’t photograph to explain.
His images feel more like pauses — moments where nothing dramatic happens, yet something lingers.
His images feel more like pauses — moments where nothing dramatic happens, yet something lingers.
Working primarily with people he already knows or encounters repeatedly, Richter’s photography moves slowly. There is no spectacle, no attempt to impress. Instead, his work observes what remains when gestures become minimal and expressions soften.
How would you describe your work to someone who has never seen it - without mentioning genres or technical terms?
I would say my work is about presence. About being with someone long enough until the camera becomes irrelevant. Most of my images are less about what is visible and more about what is held back.
Do you remember the moment when photography became more than just an interest for you?
Yes, actually. It was when I realized that I kept returning to the same subjects, even when there was no clear outcome. At some point, I wasn’t taking pictures to share them anymore — I was taking them because I needed to understand something for myself.
What usually comes first in your work: an idea, a feeling, or a situation you encounter?
Almost always a feeling. Ideas tend to come later, sometimes even after the images already exist. I don’t like forcing concepts onto situations. I prefer to let things reveal themselves slowly.
How much of your process is planned, and how much do you allow to happen intuitively?
I plan very little. I might have a loose intention, but once I’m there, I try to stay open. Some of my strongest images happened when something didn’t go as expected.
What is something about your work that most people overlook or misunderstand?
People sometimes think the work is calm or detached. But for me, it’s quite emotional. I just don’t feel the need to show that emotion directly. Silence can carry a lot.
Is there a recurring theme or question you find yourself returning to in your projects?
I often think about distance — emotional distance, physical distance, and how close you can get to someone without crossing a line. That tension appears again and again in my work.
Looking at your older work: what would you do differently today?
I would slow down even more. I used to think productivity meant progress. Now I believe repetition and patience are far more important.
Final Word
Jonas Richter was featured for his restrained and consistent approach to portrait photography.
In a time where images often compete for immediate attention, his work chooses a slower pace — one that trusts the viewer and allows space for interpretation.
In a time where images often compete for immediate attention, his work chooses a slower pace — one that trusts the viewer and allows space for interpretation.
His photographs don’t ask to be understood instantly. They invite time, and in doing so, reveal a quiet confidence that feels increasingly rare.
