Tobias Rüther
on
The Spectators
Every week, one hundred telescopes are sold in New York - that's what was in the newspaper recently. And that's not counting telephoto lenses, binoculars, even lorgnettes. In fact, lorgnettes are standard equipment in many New York hotel rooms: so that patrons can gaze at the moon over Manhattan (or moon over the woman across the way). Sex, loneliness, love and separation, or just a normal evening meal with the family: it is the "comfort of strangers" they are seeking, but viewed from the safe distance of their own balconies. The denizens of New York, so the newspaper article said, can view more than 200 other apartments at any one time. And over half the inhabitants of New York live on their own.
"As happier men watch birds, I watch men," British author Evelyn Waugh once wrote. "They are less attractive, but more various." He, too, sought the comfort of strangers; what's more, he went any distance to find it. Waugh was a travel writer, one who journeyed on his own of course; but in his novels this immensely sad voyeur was also a relentless chronicler of human weakness. He watched so closely that it hurt - not just him, but all concerned.
Voyeurism is a compulsive disorder, a very special kind of impaired vision. But sometimes - especially at night in front of illuminated windows - you just can't help watching. Bright lights are like a magnet, and our eyes are drawn towards them. They're really just behaving like moths around a flame. Is that cheeky? It is punishable. And dangerous - those moths could tell you a story or two on that score. But, then again, maybe it's just about nature.
Photographer Eva Leitolf is not a cheeky observer. On the contrary, when she takes a picture, she does so discreetly. She waits until the moment of greatest intimacy has passed before releasing the shutter. With her, it's all about after-images, and that demands concentration and, above all, an inner assuredness in observation. Happier men watch birds, wrote Evelyn Waugh, but he, a less happy soul, watched people - from the sidelines. The same is true of Eva Leitolf: she observes from the sidelines, but without making us feel the restlessness that drove Waugh both to seek people out and to flee from them.