Thomas Krempke — Seeing the City Between Reality and Dream
Thomas Krempke is a Swiss photographer whose work moves between urban observation and poetic interpretation. His recent project in Albania, ENDERR (“Dream”), reflects this approach—capturing fragments of urban life, architecture, and transformation through a lens that feels both precise and elusive. In this conversation, we speak with him about his practice, his experience in Albania, and how photography can shape the way we understand cities.
© Thomas Krempke, Tirana New Boulevard, 2020
There are cities you can read clearly—and others that unfold slowly, somewhere between presence and perception. In Albania, the urban landscape often feels suspended between past and future, between rapid transformation and unfinished narratives. It is precisely within this in-between condition that Thomas Krempke positions his gaze.
A Swiss photographer with a distinct sensitivity to atmosphere and spatial ambiguity, Krempke does not simply document the city—he reframes it. His images invite us to pause, to question what we see, and to consider how architecture is experienced not only as form, but as mood, memory, and projection.
His latest project, ËNDËRR (“Dream”), developed in Albania, moves along this delicate line between the real and the imagined. Through fragments of streets, buildings, and everyday moments, the work constructs a quiet, introspective portrait of a country in flux.
We spoke with him about his photographic approach, his experience in Albania, and how images can reshape the way we understand urban space.
© Thomas Krempke, Durres 2020
Alketa Misja for Tatì Space: Hello Mr.Thomas! First of all, thank you very much for accepting the invitation to be interviewed by Tatì Space and sharing your work with our readers. Can you please tell us more about yourself? How did your journey into photography begin, and what drew you to urban and architectural subjects?
Your work lies between urban observation and poetic interpretation. You create visual narratives that go beyond simple documentation, inviting viewers to experience the city as an emotional landscape. How do you approach this tension between reality and representation in your images?
Thomas Krempke: I began making films at the age of 16 with a short film. At 22, I started studying Literature for two years, and then I attended Art School for Photography in Zurich from 1979 to 1983, as it was the closest field to cinematography, for which there was no school at the time. I have always been interested in places—where people live and how they live.
In 1980, I made a film with co-authors about house squatting in Zurich, during the 80-es movement of young artists for more cultural spaces in city. For the next 40 years, I made documentary films until 2008, when I returned to photography.
I began my first photography project, The Whispering of Things, as a photographic diary, but after two or three years I realized it had the potential to be developed more seriously, and it eventually became a photobook in 2016. The book is a diary of perception—how I perceive, what my gaze is, and what it means to look. There are no portraits in this work.
I started making portraits for the project Ëndërr, as I wanted from the beginning to include people. I attended a workshop in Arles with the well-known photographer Yann Rabanier to learn portraiture. I was always afraid of photographing people, but now I take pleasure in it.
As in all my projects, I do not aim to be too realistic. I want people to see reality differently after experiencing my photographs. It is all about perception.
©Thomas Krempke, Piramida of Dictator, Tirana 2022
©Thomas Krempke, Adriatik 2022
©Thomas Krempke, Adriatik School 2022
Tatì Space: From 5 years now you are photographing in Albania. Your recent project ËNDËRR was presented in the exhibition at Grupi ATA in Kamza, Tirana from March 26- April 16, 2026. What was the starting point or impulse behind this project?
The title ËNDËRR (dream) suggests a subjective or poetic layer—how does this idea translate into your visual language? What kind of spaces or urban conditions were you most interested in capturing in this series?
Thomas Krempke: The project on Albania began with my first visit in 2017. I was fascinated from the very beginning. What captured my interest was how the contrasts and contradictions of society are highly visible in the urban fabric. It is a post-communist society in transformation, but in some respects different from other Eastern European countries. Albania was very closed during the regime, and its openness to democracy and capitalism happened very quickly—almost like an explosion—which makes these contrasts and contradictions more visible than in other countries.
I began photographing during my second visit in 2019. I walked extensively through the city and was amazed by its chaotic development. For me, this was particularly interesting, because the houses and places seem to have stories to tell. There is the Boulevard and the Center, but the more you go out in periphery, the planning disappears.
©Thomas Krempke, Kamza 2021
©Thomas Krempke, Tirana New Constructions 2022
The first part of the project was exhibited in 2022 under the title “Shi bie në Tiranë” (It’s raining in Tirana) at Gallery Kriens. In 2023, part of the project was exhibited under the title “Today–Yesterday–After Tomorrow” at Galerie am Platz, Eglisau, Switzerland. However, the title of the photographic project has remained the same from the beginning: ËNDERR (Dream). It is exhibited under its original name for the first time here in Albania, at the premises of Group ATA in Kamza. The exhibition is supported by Group ATA and the Swiss Embassy in Tirana, to whom I am very grateful.
The title refers to the Albanian dream of finding fortune and happiness—either as an emigrant abroad or in the capital, Tirana. At the same time, it reflects the opposite dream of Central Europeans searching for an undiscovered, “authentic” tourist destination. What fascinated me was how these two dreams intersect in a place that no one quite knows how to locate. This is what I wanted to convey through my photographs from the very beginning.
During my research on Albania, I also noticed the word “dream” recurring everywhere—in novels, poems, and song lyrics—accompanying me like a leitmotif. I therefore decided it was a very fitting title for the project.
Interestingly, I have always been drawn to dreams. I dream frequently at night, and for a time I kept journals in which I wrote them down. I no longer do this. Instead, I photograph situations that feel contradictory, like dreams—where old and new, finished and unfinished, all come together in a non-rational way, such as in the image of the unfinished hotel in Golem with white columns.
©Thomas Krempke, White Colomns, Golem 2024
©Thomas Krempke, Tirana Zoo, 2022
Tatì Space: In your images appear different elements like informality, rapid development, layered histories, the past and the future both competing for supremacy in a place that is striving to live in the present (quoting you). Did you encounter specific urban phenomena that influenced your way of seeing or framing?
One of the poems that you have chosen for the Exhibition, that I like very much, is “Ënderr” of Visar Zhiti, written in 1982 during his political imprisonment in the infamous Spaçi prison. How does the idea of “dream” shape the way you see and photograph the people and places? How do you see the role of photography in shaping memory and understanding of urban space?
Thomas Krempke: The project is about individual dreams—about people who build their own dreams in their country. From the beginning, I wanted to make portraits of different people. I did not want to focus on immigration; it is an easy subject, and many others have already explored it. I was more interested in meeting people who have chosen to build a life here, often facing many difficulties.
©Thomas Krempke, Shengjin Theme Park, 2021
©Thomas Krempke, Shkodra 2024
While accompanying activists in their work, they showed me places such as Tropoja, Zall Gjocaj, Kamza and Bathore. The project “Tirana Riverside” in Lagja 5 Maji was probably the most important one, which I followed for quite some time. However, I was not there as a photojournalist. For my project, it is very important not to be too realistic or naturalistic. I want viewers to see reality differently after encountering my photographs. As in the book The Whispering of Things, I continue to explore the idea of perception—what it means to look and to perceive.
In some way, photographing in Albania has changed my way of seeing, because it is the first time I have worked on such an extensive project over five years. I have visited 16 times, and altogether I have spent more than one year. I have never immersed myself so deeply in a project in another country before. Now I look more precisely. Albania has become like a mirror, changing the way I see my own country.
©Thomas Krempke, New Constructions “Tirana Riverside” Project in 5 Maji Neighborhood, Tirana 2022
Demolition of informal housing in 5 Maji Neighborhood Tirana 2022
Sidorela, Portrait of Activist in 5 Maji Neighborhood, Tirana 2022
Tatì Space: What projects are you currently working on, or planning for the near future? Are there other cities or contexts you are interested in exploring next?
Finally, what advice would you give to young photographers who are interested in urban and architectural photography? How can they develop a critical voice rather than just a technical skillset?
Thomas Krempke: I want to publish the book ËNDËRR. For the past year, I have been working on completing the book, both in terms of photographs and text, and I hope to find a good editor. I am also planning a small project, which I hope to develop with a young musician, focused on the theme of perception of time.
In terms of urban themes, I would like to create a small project in my own city, approaching it with a new way of seeing, similar to the perspective I developed in Albania.
My advice for young photographers would be to look and to walk—and to use books and photobooks as a source of inspiration.
TatìSpace: Thank you very much for the interview, and I hope to see more of your work about Albania.
©Thomas Krempke, Durres Albania 2022
Exhibition ENDERR, at Grupi ATA in Kamza, Tirana from March 26- April 16, 2026
Wandrille Potez in the Land of Eagles and Angels
There are places that seem to exist in a different rhythm of time—where the past lingers not as memory, but as a living presence. For photographer and researcher Wandrille Potez, Albania’s Drino Valley is one such place. Tucked between mountains and gorges, the valley shelters a constellation of post-Byzantine churches and monasteries, many of them little known, some almost forgotten. Wandering its paths with a camera in hand, Potez steps into spaces where history and humanity quietly converge, capturing fragments of a world as fragile as it is extraordinary.
Wandrille Potez
“EAGLES AND ANGELS”
© Wandrille Potez
Dhuvjan, la fresque des saints cavaliers Dhuvjan.
The fresco of the holy riders Dhuvjan.
Kisha e Shën Kollit
Dropull Albania, February 2025
There are places that seem to exist in a different rhythm of time—where the past lingers not as memory, but as a living presence. For photographer and researcher Wandrille Potez, Albania’s Drino Valley is one such place. Tucked between mountains and gorges, the valley shelters a constellation of post-Byzantine churches and monasteries, many of them little known, some almost forgotten. Wandering its paths with a camera in hand, Potez steps into spaces where history and humanity quietly converge, capturing fragments of a world as fragile as it is extraordinary.
Potez’s work unfolds as a journey into hidden territories. He approaches these sites not as a distant observer, but as a participant in their ongoing story. His lens lingers on abandoned frescoes, weathered stone walls, and subtle traces of devotion—revealing both the tenderness and resilience of structures that have endured centuries of political shifts, neglect, and environmental exposure. In Albania, these churches are more than monuments: they are living testimonies to faith, endurance, and the quiet determination of local communities who have protected them against the odds.
© Wandrille Potez
Dhuvjan, la nef de l’église Saint-Nicolas Dhuvjan, The nave of Saint Nicholas Church Dhuvjan, Kisha e Shën Kollit
Dropull, Albania, August 2023
His encounter with Albania’s post-Byzantine heritage began in 2017. From 2022 onward, repeated journeys brought him deeper into the Drino Valley, where monasteries lie scattered across forests, ravines, and mountain slopes. Often absent from maps and difficult to access, these sites reveal themselves only after hours—or days—of walking. Over several years, Potez returned to the valley again, documenting its churches with the eye of an art historian, the curiosity of a journalist, and the patience of a photographer.
He studies their architecture and deciphers layers of Byzantine, Ottoman, and Latin influence, while also observing the quiet life that continues around them. Frescoes dating back to the 16th and 17th centuries narrate a spiritual life that resisted erasure. Local inhabitants sustain small rituals of remembrance: an oil lamp glowing softly, a dish of sweets left for travelers, water poured into sacred basins. Here, devotion and daily life merge seamlessly with nature—bats resting in shadowed vaults, snakes warming themselves on cracked stones, scorpions retreating beneath roof tiles.
The church of Saint Nicholas offers a telling example. Its frescoes, pale from centuries of exposure, have been covered after the roof was repaired, yet the scars of time remain visible, bearing witness to both vulnerability and care. Other sites, such as the Ravena Catholicon or the monastery of the Prophet Elijah, illustrate the deep entanglement of history, landscape, and community. Ruined conventual buildings open onto sweeping views of Mount Çajupi, while nearby residents continue to safeguard what they can. Even in isolation, life persists: animals inhabit the sacred spaces, and the distant melody of herds echoes through the valleys.
© Wandrille Potez
Mingul, les ruines du monastère de la Transfiguration Mingul, The ruins of the Monastery of the Transfiguration
Mingul, Kisha e Manastirit të Shpërfytyrimit
Lunxhëri Albania, August 2024
Potez’s practice sits at the intersection of photography, art history, and journalism, extending a long tradition of French travelers and photographers who, in the 19th century, documented the landscapes and monuments of the Ottoman Balkans and the Middle East. Like those early observers, he combines meticulous attention to detail with a deep curiosity for the stories embedded in buildings and landscapes. Yet his work is firmly anchored in the present, attentive to the fragility of sites threatened by disappearance. (1)
This commitment has already had tangible impact. At Potez’s initiative, the monasteries of the Drino Valley were included in the World Monuments Fund’s Watch List 2025—a crucial step toward mobilizing international attention and funding for their preservation.
The photographs produced through these journeys have been presented in several contexts. In 2024, Potez held his first exhibition dedicated to Albania, drawing from his Hors Sentier immersions. His work has also appeared in editorial and exhibition projects in France, in the nave of the Collège des Bernardins in Paris in September 2025, where the Drino Valley churches were introduced to a wider audience within a broader reflection on endangered European heritage.
© Wandrille Potez
Saraqinisht, l’ermitage de Spilea Saraqinisht, The cave hermitage of Spilea Saraqinisht, Shpella e Manastirit i Spilesë
Lunxheri Albania, August 2023
Between 2024 and 2025, the project entered a new phase through Potez’s residency at Vila 31 – Art Explora in Tirana. This residency allowed him to deepen his research while anchoring it more firmly in its local context. At Vila 31, the ex-house of the dictator who 60 years before banned the religion in Albania, Potez refined the project’s narrative structure, weaving together images, texts, and historical research. A publication untitled “Eagles and Angels” is currently in preparation, conceived as a book that brings photography and narrative into close dialogue.
In the Drino Valley, history, devotion, and nature exist in a delicate balance. Wandrille Potez’s work invites us to witness this convergence—and to recognize its vulnerability. In this land of eagles and angels, the monasteries stand as quiet witnesses to resilience, faith, and the enduring power of attentive looking.
© Atdhe Mulla, Exhibition “Eagles and Angels” at Villa 31 during Wandrille Potez residency at Art Explora, Tirana, Albania November 2025
All photos courtesy of Wandrille Potez
(1) BIO: Wandrille Potez was born in Poissy, France in 1996. After completing a khâgne at the Lycée Janson de Sailly, his research – divided between the École Pratique des Hautes Études and Paris Diderot University – took him to Germany, where he became interested in the presence of the Orient in early 18th-century Saxon décor. With a master's degree in comparative history and civilisations, Wandrille Potez then worked as a researcher at the Centre de Recherche du Château de Versailles, before the Centre des Monuments Nationaux entrusted him with a curatorial assignment, in partnership with the Museum of Decorative Arts in Dresden. Between 2019 and 2023, while writing regularly for The Art Newspaper, Wandrille Potez made numerous trips to the Balkans, choosing photography as a means of defending the rare and fragile heritage he discovered there, on foot or by bicycle. At his suggestion, the churches in the Drino Valley were added to the World Monuments Fund's 2025 Watch List.