PETER UNTERMAIERHOFER │ WHEN TIME STOOD STILL

After the devas­ta­ting nuclear acci­dent that occur­red at the Cher­no­byl nuclear power plant in Ukraine on April 26, 1986, an area of ​​appro­xi­mately 2,000 square kilo­me­ters northwest of the dama­ged nuclear reac­tor became part of the restric­ted area, in which life-threatening radia­tion levels were pre­sent. It took 36 hours after the total meltdown that the almost 50,000 inha­bi­tants of the city of Pri­pyat, not far from Cher­no­byl in this con­ta­mi­na­ted area and foun­ded in 1970 as an ideal socia­list city for the car­pen­try workers, were eva­cua­ted by bus. In the belief of a soon return, the resi­dents had taken only the bare neces­si­ties, so that the cur­rent buil­dings on an area of ​​approx. 600 hec­ta­res are lar­gely still in the state they were in 1986. Thanks to exten­sive deconta­mi­na­tion mea­su­res, radia­tion expo­sure has been redu­ced to such an extent over the years that Pri­pyat can be ente­red at least tem­pora­rily today. The city, which is guar­ded by the mili­tary, has been opened to tou­rism in July 2011. Entry into the restric­ted area is only pos­si­ble with booked tours.
If today Pri­pyat near Cher­no­byl is one of the tou­rist magnets in Eas­tern Europe with around 1 mil­lion visi­tors annu­ally, it is mainly because of the creep fac­tor of a for­merly radio­ac­tive site, but also because of the mor­bid appearance of a deca­ying ghost town, in which time seems to have stop­ped. Like hardly any­where else in the world, belief in pro­gress and apo­ca­lyp­tic doom col­lide in vehe­ment imme­diacy, and the con­se­quen­ces of uncon­trollable tech­ni­cal pro­ces­ses become visi­ble, which are direc­ted not only against their for­mer buil­ders, but against all of man­kind. In 2017, Peter Unter­mai­er­ho­fer had the oppor­tu­nity to take pho­tos over five days in offi­ci­ally acces­si­ble as well as in nor­mally clo­sed buil­dings and faci­li­ties wit­hin the military-controlled restric­ted area. He suc­cee­ded in cap­tu­ring the opp­res­sive atmo­s­phere of death and chaos in haun­ting pho­to­graphs, choo­sing a visual lan­guage for each loca­tion that shows the full extent of the cata­stro­phy, but at the same time sub­li­ma­tes the opp­res­sive sub­ject and crea­tes an aes­the­tic dis­tance.
In addi­tion to seven large-format works that were crea­ted in Pri­pyat / Cher­no­byl, the exhi­bi­tion will also show­case 12 fine art prints of other lost-place pho­to­graphs that have not pre­viously been shown in the gallery.

Born in Eggen­fel­den in 1983, Peter Unter­mai­er­ho­fer com­ple­ted a degree in media tech­no­logy at the Deg­gen­dorf Uni­ver­sity of Tech­no­logy from 2006 to 2012, and also spent one semes­ter in Pho­to­gra­phy at the James Cook Uni­ver­sity in Towns­ville, Aus­tra­lia in 2010. The focus of his pho­to­gra­phic work is on pla­ces that people have left for a variety of rea­sons, and from which a melancholic-morbid cha­risma ema­na­tes when deca­ying. Wit­hin the world­wide pho­to­gra­pher com­mu­nity dedi­ca­ted to those lost pla­ces, Peter Unter­mai­er­ho­fer is now one of the most dis­tin­gu­is­hed representatives.