Houses are, at best, a home. Photographer Patrick Lambertz illustrates this in a remarkable, almost paradoxical way in his photographs of almost three dozen chalets in Switzerland: he robs these houses of almost all context in his pictures. Detaches them from the alpine landscape and the context of a village settlement. One sees very little of the places where they stand, perceives almost nothing of the topography.
At first glance, the motifs appear very inconspicuous and quite uniform. No sign of people, of residents. There is rarely a car parked next to a chalet. On some vehicles, however, the number plates are missing. No footprints in the snow around the house, no lights behind the windows.
Because you see nothing but the houses, you see the houses
Lambertz photographed in recent winters when the towns in eastern Switzerland he visited for his photo project were covered in snow. He chose days when the sky was cloudy and the light was therefore diffuse. And he enhanced the retouching effect of the snow in the post-processing of his photographs, as the photographer and curator Daniel Blochwitz reports in his foreword to Lambertz’ high-quality photo book “Chalets of Switzerland”.
Almost looks like a model kit: Photograph of a chalet in Altendorf, Canton Schwyz.
(Photo: Patrick Lambertz/Hartmann Books)
And because you see nothing but the houses, you see the houses. Not as part of a landscape where they might appear as decoration, as the mountainside beyond is spectacular or anything happening in the surrounding pastures, in the woods or on the roads that arouses curiosity. No, you look at the facades of the chalets like faces. Patrick Lambertz’ photographs of these houses are portraits.
You can see signs of wear, wounds – the character of the houses
You can see the signs of wear and tear on the facades, recognize wounds and scars. Recognizes a character. Lambertz has selected chalets – most of them are in the rural canton of Schwyz between Lake Zurich and Lake Lucerne – which still refer to a farm and appear to be inhabited by people from traditional families. Apparently, most of these chalets have not yet been converted into holiday homes. Daniel Blochwitz writes in his text: “Pragmatism characterizes the exterior here, not the unconditional desire to beautify country life on the part of city dwellers.”
A chalet that was originally a refuge. Often only for cattle, sometimes also for humans. Built in block construction. In the 19th century, this meant that they could be mass-produced on an industrial scale. Chalets were the export product with which Switzerland presented itself at various major world exhibitions. The relevant construction industry has benefited from this – and tourism. The chalet architecture was adopted for hotels and cable car stations, as well as for toilet houses and dovecotes, as the ethnologist and sociologist Edwin Huwyler explains in a short essay.
Cables and the idea of a way: a detached chalet in Seewen in the canton of Schwyz.
(Photo: Patrick Lambertz/Hartmann Books)
Chalets have long been as emblematic (not only) of Switzerland as log cabins, painted ox blood red, built on a picturesque lake are for Scandinavia. Chalet villages are the new standard in alpine tourism. Patrick Lambertz initially excludes this in his photographs. He shows chalets that are currently not (yet) open to guests who are paying.
Although it is not easy to position him as the documentarist of the (fading) authentic. On the one hand, dealing with chalets has always been pragmatic. It was rebuilt and added on, wooden facades were plastered or covered with Eternit shingles. None of the houses photographed for “Chalets of Switzerland” are still in their original condition. One even has a brewery billboard attached to it, so the building apparently once served as an inn or pub – which has long since closed.
And then, of course, the pictures show very clearly why chalets are viewed as ideal-typical houses that arouse longing and desire. In terms of proportions, aesthetics and design, they are the dream home for many people. Comparable in their way and yet each individual. To stage this in this supposed simplicity is a remarkable project. As comfortable as you could make yourself in the chalets: Patrick Lambertz makes you stop in front of them and look at them from the outside. Until you internalize their facial features.
Patrick Lambertz: Chalets of Switzerland. Hartmann Books, Stuttgart 2022. 184 pages, 49 euros.