A striking exhibition of large-format black-and-white photographs by Ouriel Morgensztern, the house photographer of Vienna's Horten Collection, offers a stark reinterpretation of the museum's architecture, transforming the bustling private institution into a serene modernist monument. The photographs, on display in the museum's parterre level through April 12, represent the final curated intervention by former director Agnes Husslein-Arco, who stepped down in November 2025. In these images, Morgensztern strips away the vibrant, energetic character of the museum, replacing it with a vision of silent, geometric grandeur that stands in deliberate contrast to daily reality.
The Horten Collection, which Husslein-Arco left in the hands of successor Verena Kaspar-Eisert, has established itself as perhaps Vienna's most accessible venue for viewing high-caliber, expensive art. Visitors enter the foyer and find themselves immediately immersed among masterpieces by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Marc Chagall, and Andy Warhol, without the formality typical of such institutions. The building itself, a converted former garage, pulses with color—from its climate-friendly coated forecourt to its dynamic website design. The space typically teems with life, particularly school groups that scramble up and down the open staircases, creating an atmosphere that is lively, informal, and slightly chaotic. This vibrant reality makes Morgensztern's austere photographic vision all the more dramatic by comparison.
Morgensztern's photographs eliminate human presence entirely, focusing instead on the museum's structural elements to create a sense of monumental stillness. The staircases, railings, and glass roof surfaces acquire a weighty, almost sacred quality through his lens. He employs harsh contrasts and sharply defined shadows, creating images so devoid of color and movement that they appear as though someone has literally turned off the sound. This approach represents the opposite end of the spectrum from his usual work documenting the museum's exhibitions and social events since its 2022 opening. Yet even within this serious, minimalist framework, viewers can detect a subtle playfulness in his compositional choices.
Born in Paris and having lived in Southern France and Israel before settling in Vienna two decades ago, Morgensztern brings a rich understanding of photographic history to this project. He draws inspiration from Bauhaus masters like László Moholy-Nagy, who used radical low-angle shots and tilted perspectives to create new spatial experiences through photography. Morgensztern applies similar techniques to the Horten Collection, capturing platforms from below and rotating them 90 degrees so they appear as purposeless minimalist sculptures. The handrails and railings transform into abstract constructions reminiscent of El Lissitzky's work, demonstrating the photographer's deep engagement with modernist visual language and his ability to make familiar architectural elements feel alien and newly discovered.
Despite the apparent seriousness of his approach, Morgensztern embeds witty details that reveal him as more than a modernist purist. He includes the paw of an animal sculpture from the collection, injecting a moment of organic whimsy into the geometric composition. In perhaps his most subversive gesture, he crops the museum's name so that "Horten" becomes "ORT"—the German word for "place"—transforming a wealthy collector's brand into a simple designation of location. These touches suggest a photographer who observes with a twinkle in his eye, someone who can honor architectural grandeur while simultaneously poking gentle fun at institutional identity. The work balances reverence for space with a lighthearted acknowledgment of its artificiality.
The exhibition ultimately serves as a moment of pause for the institution, freezing the museum's clocks and prompting reflection on its future direction. As the Horten Collection enters its next phase under new leadership, Morgensztern's photographs raise a central question: will the institution embrace the strict, monumental qualities revealed in these images, or will it continue developing the more playful, colorful, and accessible character that defines its daily operations? The photographer's vision holds both possibilities in tension, suggesting that the museum's identity might productively exist somewhere between these two poles. His work invites visitors to see the building anew, to appreciate its architectural bones while considering what kind of institution it might become.
