A groundbreaking new publication is bringing long-overdue recognition to the photographic work of Christine Furuya-Gössler, who created a distinctive body of images during the seven years before her death by suicide in 1985. The book, titled "Christine Furuya-Gössler Photographs (1978-1985)" and published by Chose Commune, represents the first publication devoted entirely to her work, featuring over 130 photographs that reveal her artistic vision beyond her role as the subject of her husband's acclaimed photography.

For decades, Christine Furuya-Gössler has been primarily known through the intimate portraits taken by her husband, acclaimed photographer Seiichi Furuya. His images of Christine during their seven years together as a couple, then as husband and wife, and later as parents, have become celebrated for their soft mundanity and clear dedication to their shared life. Set against the brutalist architecture of East Germany before the fall of the Berlin Wall, these photographs have long been viewed as precious glimpses into a small family's existence on the cusp of history, with Christine's mental health struggles and eventual suicide adding an layer of profound sadness to the work.

What remained largely unknown until now is that Christine herself began photographing soon after meeting Seiichi in 1978, developing her own artistic practice and unique photographic voice. This aspect of her life and the substantial body of work she created has been the focus of years-long efforts by Seiichi and publisher Chose Commune to bring proper recognition to Christine's artistic contributions. The new publication follows "Face to Face," Chose Commune's 2020 book featuring portraits Christine and Seiichi took of each other, which provided the first public glimpse into Christine's photographic work.

"When Seiichi told us he had discovered a much larger archive of Christine's photographs, it felt essential to shift the spotlight onto her – to reveal her not just as a muse, but as an artist in her own right," explains Cécile Poimboeuf-Koizumi, founder of Chose Commune and editor of the new book. The publication takes a deliberately chronological approach, with each image organized by date to enhance the intimacy of Christine's work and highlight the remarkably short period during which she was creating. This chronological structure gives the collection a diary-like quality, demonstrating how rapidly she evolved as a photographer in just seven years.

The book's design itself reflects Christine's artistic progression, with early images printed smaller and photographs gradually increasing in size as time passes and as Christine's mental illness becomes more present in her life. The sequence culminates in full-bleed pages, creating a visual representation of her journey as both an artist and a person struggling with mental health challenges. This thoughtful layout approach underscores the compressed timeframe of her creative output while honoring the intensity of her artistic development.

Christine's photographs capture the quiet details of daily living with remarkable sensitivity, rarely feeling staged while speaking volumes about intimate domestic moments. The images are filled with the minutiae of family life: slices of watermelon beside coffee on sunny days, piles of radishes and eggplant on counters next to sinks with water droplets suggesting they've just been washed. Many photographs feature their son Komyo, providing sweet windows into the daily existence of a child at the turn of the 20th century – posing as a ghost with traditional eye-holes cut from a bedsheet, opening doors while wrapped in a puffer jacket and striped hat, or sitting in a carrier on Christine's back while her camera flash illuminates his face in a mirror.

According to Seiichi, many of Christine's photographs reveal her inner self, personality, and even her physical approach to photography. "She never aggressively imposed herself on her subjects," Seiichi observes. "Instead, she always maintained a position of quiet restraint, observing from a slight distance." He describes how Christine held her camera gently, always maintaining the same calm and respectful distance from the people or things she chose to photograph. Notably, Christine would often take two photographs consecutively, seemingly driven by a lingering uncertainty about capturing the right moment.

There was one significant exception to Christine's typically restrained photographic approach: when she photographed Seiichi while he slept. In these intimate images, Christine used a macro lens, positioning herself just centimeters from Seiichi's face. "It was almost as if she were conducting a CT scan," Seiichi recalls. "It felt as though she was trying to peer into my mind and understand what I was thinking – trying to capture something invisible inside me." These photographs represent some of the most psychologically intense work in Christine's portfolio, revealing her desire to understand and document the inner life of her closest companion.

When asked about his experience of being photographed by Christine, Seiichi describes the process as natural and unforced. "She never once insisted on taking pictures or asked to do so – it always happened naturally and quietly, as part of the flow of the moment," he explains. The photographic sessions were simple affairs: Seiichi would stop and look at Christine, with her rarely requesting changes to his position or expression, except for one instance when she asked him to remove his glasses. Seiichi viewed this creative exchange as a cipher for their relationship, providing a new means for connection and communication beyond words.

"The photographs themselves weren't what mattered," Seiichi reflects. "Rather, I believe we were engaging in a kind of silent conversation – brief as it may have been – through the act of photographing one another." This mutual documentation created a unique form of artistic dialogue between the couple, with each serving alternately as photographer and subject in an intimate creative partnership that lasted several years.

By 1983, Christine's photographic output had significantly decreased due to her deteriorating mental health, and she had largely stopped taking photographs altogether. Even when she briefly picked up her camera again in 1985, shortly before her death, Seiichi notes that she no longer turned her lens toward him. "In other words, she had stopped engaging in that silent dialogue with me," he says, marking the end of their photographic conversation and, tragically, presaging the end of Christine's life.

"Christine Furuya-Gössler Photographs (1978-1985)" stands as a moving testament to the self-actualizing power of creative expression and the lasting traces of existence that can be preserved through art. The publication reveals Christine not merely as the subject of celebrated photographs, but as an artist who left behind her own distinctive vision, created through her own perspective, eyes, and hands. Forty years after Christine's death, this comprehensive collection finally provides the recognition her artistic contributions deserve, completing a more complex and nuanced understanding of a life that was cut tragically short but produced work of lasting significance.