Rafael Heygster and Helena Lea Manhartsberger’s collaborative project captures the surreal tensions of life during Covid-19
“I feel like I’m in a mediocre apocalypse movie,” says Rafael Heygster, who is currently in Hanover, Germany. “When I go to bed, I sleep well, I wake up happy, then I look at my smartphone and my news app reminds me about coronavirus and all the things I can’t do.” His frustrations are relatable. It has been 10 weeks since lockdown was enforced here in the UK, and the novelties of working-from-home and group Zoom calls are well-worn by now. The pandemic-experience for many of us has been, frankly, quite boring — far from the gripping drama of Contagion or 28 Days Later.
Queues for supermarkets, police presence in parks, patterned masks and latex gloves — all of these things have become rapidly normalised. “It was hard to grasp the reality of the situation at first,” says Helena Lea Manhartsberger, who is from Tyrol, a western Austrian state that borders northern Italy — the epicentre of the pandemic’s beginning in Europe. “I was getting updates from my friends and family who were already in lockdown, but here in Germany, we were still going to clubs and bars, people were smiling, nobody really wanted to believe the same would happen here.”
Heygster and Manhartsberger met at photojournalism school in Hanover, and since the advent of the pandemic, they have both been “stuck” in the city. Unable to travel for assignments, and sharing the same sentiments of living through such a surreal experience, they decided to collaborate on a new project, Corona Rhapsody.
All of the stories they have covered so far capture a certain tension that is created by the rapid establishment and normalisation of new rules and infrastructure. They photographed “car concerts”, where spectators honk and flash at the end of each performance, and Hanover’s 500-patient field hospital, where trainee medics of the German Armed Forces practice drills in a facility that remains unused today.
“It was quite funny because these soldiers were in their early-20s or late teens, and it felt more like a class of vacation,” says Heygster, recalling the clumsy way in which they practised putting together equipment and dressing in PPE. “On one hand it was impressive how fast they built this infrastructure,” Manhartsberger adds, “but then you see these soldiers who don’t even know how to put on the right shoes.”
Heygster and Manhartsberger also photographed various protests — by left-wing, right-wing, refugee, and conspiracy, groups (or a combination of all four in some cases) — and socially-distanced parliamentary meetings, which look more like exam halls than important conventions for decision-making.
“We have daily press conferences, high police presence on our streets, but then you look at the park and everything seems normal,” says Manhartsberger. But really, there is nothing “normal” about the “new normal”. Heygster and Manhartsberger’s images are theatrical to the point where they might appear to staged, but these surreal images are a reflection of how many of us perceive the pandemic — a period of uncertainty and contradiction, heightened by a disjunction between how the crisis is portrayed by the media, and what is actually going on in real life.