Alec Soth: Limmat Valley Diary, 2024

On my first night in Baden, I woke up with jetlag. The moon felt like a sign.


Astrid Schaff­ner


Astrid pain­ted the wall in her living room because there wasn’t a window. After per­forming a sage smo­king ritual, she brings her visi­tor inside. Using blan­kets from the sweat lodge in her garden, she makes a bed on the floor. If she feels com­for­ta­ble with her visi­tor, they lie down and hold hands. During the ses­sion, Astrid reve­als her visitor’s spirit animal.

I wanted to know my animal, but I also wanted to take pic­tures. It felt wrong to do both.

The garden of the shaman, Astrid Schaff­ner


Gaby Hin­ter­mann


The studio of the tarot reader, Gaby Hin­ter­mann

Gaby told me to let go of the Nine of Wands and embrace the Queen of Cups.

Nine of Wands – Battle weary, guar­der, obsti­nate, tired, ill, male
Queen of Cups – Emo­tio­nal depth, intui­tion, com­pas­sion, heal­ing, female


Mad­laina Janett


I met Mad­laina, an ayur­veda healer and mid­wife, at a ceme­tery across the street from her home. She told me that after the recent death of her father, she visi­ted a shaman and lear­ned that her spirit animal is an ele­phant.

Mad­laina explai­ned that in ayur­veda there are three ele­ments (Doshas) that func­tion like per­so­na­lity types. She used cele­bri­ties as ana­lo­gies.

Vata: Air (Amy Wine­house)
Pitta: Fire (Heidi Klum)
Kapha: Earth (Seth Rogen)

Mad­laina said she can usually deter­mine a person’s Dosha quickly. She thought I was a mix of Vata and Kapha.

The three ele­ments also apply to the stages of life.

Vata: old
Pitta: middle
Kapha: young

Mad­laina and I are both ente­ring the Vata stage.

While pre­pa­ring to take Madlaina’s por­trait, a crow landed nearby. It flew away before I took a pic­ture. After Mad­laina left, I went loo­king for the crow.

Mad­laina Janett, Sihl­feld ceme­tery


Carmen Roth­mayr


Carmen Roth­mayr took me to Zürich­berg to show me Shin­rin Yoku (forest bathing). This mindful­ness prac­tice was deve­lo­ped in Japan a response to the 1990’s tech boom. During her four hour guided ses­si­ons, par­ti­ci­pants put away elec­tro­nics and refrain from spea­king. Ins­tead of using came­ras, Carmen ins­tructs bathers to use paper window frames to share pic­tures’.


Emma Kunz


Emma Kunz (18921963) dis­co­vered tele­pa­thy and extra-sen­sory powers as a child. At 18, she began to heal her first pati­ents and also star­ted dra­wing in exer­cise books. She began making geo­me­tric dra­wings that were visi­ons of energy fields from which she could for­mu­late dia­gno­ses.

In her for­ties, Kunz began making large-scale dra­wings using radies­the­sia – a dra­wing tech­ni­que where a divi­ning pen­dulum plots her com­po­si­ti­ons on graph paper. Kunz would work con­ti­nuously on a dra­wing for a period that could stretch over 24 hours.

In 1941, Kunz dis­co­vered the heal­ing rock Aion A in a roman quarry. This loca­tion is now known as the Emma Kunz Grotto.

Emma Kunz Grotto

I went back to Zürich­berg to frame more views, but I’m won­de­ring if it is better to block them.


Jean­nine Blum


The roots of the man­drake resem­ble a human body. For cen­tu­ries it was asso­cia­ted with myths and magic. Accor­ding to one legend, when the plant was uproo­ted it would scream, para­ly­zing anyone that heard it. Man­drake was pre­viously used as an anes­the­tic and aphro­di­siac, but is highly toxic and can cause hal­lu­ci­n­a­ti­ons, sei­zu­res, asphyxia­tion and death.

Jean­nine Blum, natur­opa­ty­hist, Wet­tin­gen Abbey


Dorin Ritz­mann


Dorin is a pri­vate doctor using tra­di­tio­nal non-inva­sive means such as phy­to­the­rapy (herbal medi­cine), manual medi­cine (use of the hands for dia­gno­sis and tre­at­ment), and medi­cal hyp­no­sis.

In the garden out­side her prac­tice, Dorin keeps res­cued turt­les. This one I pho­to­gra­phed is over sixty but likely will live twice as long.

Along with her prac­tice and her gar­dening, Dorin is an excel­lent pho­to­grapher of plants and trees. She also swab­bed my cheek and pho­to­gra­phed my cells.

Dr. med. Dorin Ritz­mann

Dorin gave me gingko drops to use for tin­ni­tus.


Lucas Arnold


A hyp­no­tist asked me to meet in a wooded park near Baden. During our walk, he descri­bed the leng­thy pro­cess he uses to guide his cli­ents. After awhile, I rea­li­zed that the forest was just a place to meet and that he had no inten­tion of hyp­no­tiz­ing me. I was dis­ap­poin­ted, but I enjoyed our walk.

The hyp­no­tist is a belie­ver in logic and was uncom­for­ta­ble being asso­cia­ted with eso­te­ri­cism. I told him that I don’t neces­s­a­rily believe mys­ti­cal forces guided us to the mossy cir­cu­lar boulder, but when I make art I behave as though they do. I chose to pho­to­graph the rock ins­tead of the hyp­no­tist.


MariaCris­tina Teot


During my inter­di­men­sio­nal com­mu­ni­ca­tion ses­sion with MariaCris­tina Teot, she told me that it was important that I spend more time in phy­si­cal cont­act with nature, spe­ci­fi­cally trees. After the ses­sion in her office, we visi­ted a park to take pic­tures. I saw on MariaCristina’s Insta­gram that she likes to take sel­fies with fan­ta­stic flares of light from the sun posi­tio­ned behind her. It was too cloudy, but I did my best to get the sun in the pic­ture.


Miriam Meyer


My assistant Bea­trice Signo­rello was asked to join Miriam Meyer’s medi­ta­tion class for women. The ses­sion was in german and I never felt inside the circle. Later I took a por­trait of Bea.


Andreas Tröndle & Anina Gmür


Andreas Tröndle and Anina Gmür live on a farm where they com­bine their pas­sion for 5rhythms dance and per­ma­cul­ture. 5rhythms is a move­ment medi­ta­tion prac­tice from the 1970’s that com­bi­nes shama­nism, eas­tern phi­lo­so­phy, gestalt the­rapy, trans­per­so­nal psy­cho­logy and mys­ti­cism.

Tröndle and Gmür love dancing out­side tog­e­ther on music they share on head­pho­nes. I chose not to listen while I pho­to­gra­phed them. I wonder why I prefer the pic­tures I took when they weren’t dancing close tog­e­ther.


Corinne Brei­ten­stein


Corinne Brei­ten­stein is a medium that com­mu­ni­ca­tes with the dead. She told me that she couldn’t work with me, but she offe­red to give Bea a rea­ding.


I’m curr­ently on a plane from Zurich to Las Vegas. My time in the Limmat Valley alre­ady feels like a dream. I went there with the hope of phy­si­cal and spi­ri­tual reju­ve­na­tion. It was suc­cessful, but not in the way I expec­ted. Ins­tead of a vegan cle­an­sing I repea­tedly ate Schnit­zel. Ins­tead of giving myself over to phy­sics and shamans, I took digi­tal pic­tures. But I feel crea­tively refres­hed. Having trea­ted my jour­ney as though it were guided by unseen forces I found signs as shiny and bright as golden coins in a fairy­tale.

But what did these signs say?

Loo­king at that cringy pic­ture of myself in the moon­light when I first arri­ved, what I see is not a man loo­king at the moon, but a pho­to­grapher loo­king at his camera. But is that so dif­fe­rent? Whe­ther one is a mystic gazing toward the hea­vens or a self-indul­gent artist sta­ring into a mirror, one is sear­ching for con­nec­tion.

Bea and I dis­cus­sed John Szarkowski’s Book Mir­rors and Win­dows” in which he wrote:

There is a fun­da­men­tal dicho­tomy in con­tem­po­rary pho­to­gra­phy bet­ween those who think of pho­to­gra­phy as a means of self-expres­sion and those who think of it as a method of explo­ra­tion.
The inten­tion of his ana­ly­sis has not been to divide pho­to­gra­phy into two parts. On the con­trary, it has been to sug­gest a con­ti­nuum, a single axis with two poles.”

Bea and I plot­ted our own posi­ti­ons on this axis. Bea has a PhD in mathe­ma­tics and her pho­to­gra­phy falls a bit on the window side. I try to look out the window, but I rarely escape my own reflec­tion in the glass.

In the Limmat Valley I found many signs, but inva­ria­bly these shiny coins were little mir­rors. I would gaze into peo­p­le’s eyes and see myself in their pupil.

Per­haps some­day I’ll return to Switz­er­land wit­hout my camera. Maybe I’ll even wear a blind­fold. Ins­tead of loo­king at the world through mir­rors and win­dows, I’ll hold the shamans hand, embrace the Queen of Cups, and com­mune with the forest. Ins­tead of loo­king into ano­ther person’s eyes, I’ll hold them close and dance.

May 1st, 2024.