Interview with Carsten Schulz on “Lockdownbeats”

What was the trigger for the “Lockdownbeats” series?

The silence of the pandemic. I noticed that something was missing: the sound of the clubs, the life of the night. I wanted to make this emptiness visible by photographing the clubs in exactly that state. At the same time, I felt the need to do something for the scene.

The idea was to create awareness with a photo book and support DJs and clubs during this difficult time. I discussed this concept intensely with Juliane Behnfeldt, and together we launched the project. Like many things during that time, this endeavor took longer than planned, but we always held on to our goal.

You went right into the heart of Berlin’s club culture, but without the music, without people. What do these spaces tell us about the city, about its cultural identity?

The spaces tell of a city that fell silent overnight. They are symbols of a free, creative culture that has made Berlin world-famous. At the same time, in this emptiness, they appear strange and unfamiliar, as if one were seeing places for the first time that one thought they knew. Deserted, they seem almost vulnerable, and yet powerful, because one senses what can happen there when life returns.

Your pictures often appear calm, almost contemplative – but they come from places that are usually very loud. What role does formal clarity play in your photography?

Formal clarity helps me to focus on the space itself. Without distraction from movement or light installations, space for reflection is created. The reduction creates a kind of photographic silence, fitting the emptiness of the clubs during the lockdown.

At the same time, I leave a lot of room for what happens on site. I often work spontaneously and react to the respective mood and light in the moment. Some pictures are almost coincidental because the space suddenly tells something I hadn’t planned.

How important is the documentary dimension of your work to you?

Very important. I see “Lockdownbeats” as a document of its time. These photos preserve a moment of collective standstill, captured in places that are otherwise never still. At the same time, the images remain open enough to allow for interpretations.

Some of the portrayed DJs are icons of the scene themselves. How did you select them, and what was important to you in their portraits?

It was important to me to show personalities who not only shape but embody the club scene. The selection came about partly through existing contacts, and partly through recommendations within the scene. A central element for me was that the portraits should be taken in their own clubs – in the places that shape their work and their lives.

The portraits should not appear staged but rather develop from the situation. For me, it was crucial that their seriousness and humanity became visible, as the pandemic deeply affected many of them personally.

The club landscape has changed since the pandemic. What do you observe – and what worries you?

The club scene appears more fragile and less stable than before. Besides real estate speculation, which threatens many clubs and venues, I also observe that fewer people are going to clubs overall. Perhaps going out habits have changed; many have become more reserved, perhaps also more comfortable.

The social interaction in nightlife, which used to be self-evident, no longer seems to be for some. What worries me is that important places of encounter, freedom, and creativity could disappear, and with them, a piece of the city’s cultural identity.

What does nightlife personally mean to you?

Nightlife for me is another world – a place beyond everyday life, where routines and boundaries disappear. Here, people experience a special atmosphere of music, light, and mood. For a short time, you become part of something bigger. This unique experience and the feeling of freedom are, for me, the essence of nightlife – and also make it so photographically appealing.