Photography, as a means of expression, invites a dialogue between perspective and present time, which somehow interacts with the vision we have of our surroundings. But bodies, how we choose to look at them, use them, hold them and confront them, talk about how we bond with life; about the emotional landscape that reveals the subtleties of our relationships and the echoes of what we let go in the capturing of an instant.
In I Find Them Really Pleasant to Hold, Maria and Anna join hands, as they have been doing since they began working together through the Ritsch Sisters project in 2020, and invite the audience to immerse themselves in the nooks and crannies of the intimacy and meaning that exists in the space we share with reality. Through a series of images and installations, the dialogue opens up with a sense of tactility and invites reflection and dialogue until the 1st of March in Barcelona, in which the idea of space achieves a meta sense, allowing visitors to physically interact with the work through the corridors of the Vasto gallery.
In conversation with Maria and Anna, and in the context of the opening of the I Find Them Really Pleasant to Hold exhibition, we discussed the true meaning of holding, the inspirations that led them to the concept, and how it is shared in the unit.
Hi Anna and Maria, welcome to METAL! Before diving into the interview, let’s break the ice and get to know each other better. How would you describe your actual vital moment through the songs you’re currently obsessed with?
What an intriguing way to start the conversation! We’d be super curious to know what songs are shaping your current mood as well. As for us, we don’t have one song we're obsessed with at the moment, but there are a few we’ve been listening to recently, especially while working on the show. Martyna Basta’s Slowly Forgetting has this haunting, dreamlike quality, like fading memories slipping away. Then there’s John Cage’s A Landscape, which we find meditative, almost like a calm, expansive space that helps us focus.
Abdulla Rashim’s Asayita 1 brings a mysterious, energetic pace, which feels hypnotic and immersive, like it really keeps moving. Then there’s Purffect Day by Tomasz Bednarczyk, which feels warm and soothing, and even a bit humorous, thanks to the sound of a purring cat layered into the track. For us, these pieces together create a mood of quiet tension, where reflection and movement coexist.
You have grown up in a shared environment, and perhaps under similar references; but it is curious for both sisters to have chosen the artistic path of photography. Where do your artistic roots stem from?
Photography, for us, was always a way to express what we saw and felt. An outlet for capturing the moments and details that felt unique to our personal experience. Growing up, there was this subtle influence around us, a father who’s an architect, a mother with a passion for design and art, always documenting our lives with a camera. Then, there was our grandmother, who never went anywhere without her film point-and-shoot. It wasn’t a predetermined path, but more of a natural progression. Today, photography as a medium remains our starting point, but it’s no longer where we stop. It’s the foundation from which we continue to expand into video, installation, sound, and performance.
This isn’t the first time you have both united forces to create. How have you managed collective artistic creation when you are individuals with fair different visions? To what extent do you have to give up your own interests in a shared work?
Our creative process is so intertwined that it’s always a shared vision, yet our personalities are quite different and that’s what makes collaborating so interesting. Since 2020 we work as a duo on pretty much everything, even when we’re in different places. There’s this natural back-and-forth, a kind of unspoken rhythm to how we collaborate. It’s not about compromising individual ideas but rather about building something that neither of us could create alone. The result always feels like ours, not mine or yours.
The title of your new exhibit is I Find Them Really Pleasant to Hold. What does “holding space” mean to you?
Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is offer your presence in full awareness, creating a space where others can feel seen, heard, and free to exist without judgment.
Almost every image includes human presence. What does the human body have that cannot be represented by an inert object itself?
There’s something so interesting in the way a person moves, how their presence fills a space, and how that can evoke a feeling or moment that is distinctly human. The human body has a way of communicating emotion and energy that an object alone simply can’t. What fascinates us is the play between the human form and the objects it interacts with. It’s the tension that exists in how the body and object coexist in space, the way they can transform one another, or even how the body can imbue an object with meaning. That relationship is where the real interest lies for us, in that exchange of energy and presence that creates something uniquely human.
The concept of ‘space’ is not only present in the images that capture several characters, but also in the air contained in those that represent a single individual, depending on how far away he/she is from the lens. What meaning does ‘space’ hold in this sense? What was it intended to represent?
In our work, ‘space’ is about more than just the distance between subjects — it reflects the emotional or mental space each person occupies. The air around an individual, depending on how far they are from the lens, represents a balance between holding onto something, like a memory or experience, and the freedom in letting go. It’s a way of capturing both the weight and release of what’s carried internally, allowing the viewer to sense the tension or release in the space surrounding the subject.
However, the project also contains installations, and the act of walking through the different pieces also creates a bigger image and concept. What role does the physical interaction of the public with the work play in the concept of ‘space’, as well as in the understanding of it?
In a way, the space becomes a dialogue between the artwork and the viewer, between the space they inhabit and the space we’ve created for them to explore. It’s about moving beyond the boundaries of traditional viewing and inviting a deeper, more embodied understanding of the work.
In addition to the obvious intimacy displayed, there are recurring objects captured in the photographs. Eggs, for instance, which may remind the audience of painter Salvador Dalí’s work. What have been your main inspirations and references through the creative process?
The recurring presence of objects like the egg arises from the layers of meaning they carry, symbolising both fragility and immense potential. While it may evoke associations with surrealist works like Dalí’s, for us, the egg represents themes of transformation, intimacy, and the quiet power in what is seemingly delicate. Our inspiration comes from exploring contrasts. Vulnerability and strength, fragility and growth making the egg a perfect symbol for these ongoing ideas in our practice.
Aside from the careful photographic technique, you have mentioned your intention to give them a double life, and an almost palpable realism. How do the textures help in creating a concrete meaning within the image?
Textures are less about creating a concrete meaning and more about opening up questions and space within the image. Our aim is to give the work a ‘double life’ by inviting a shift in perspective, taking something flat and pulling it into the physical space. Texture becomes a way to deepen that interaction, allowing the viewer to engage with the work from different angles, creating a dynamic experience that only exists in a physical exhibition. It's about how these tactile qualities can transform the way the image is perceived, making the moment of encounter more immersive and layered.
"We work as a duo on pretty much everything. It’s not about compromising individual ideas but rather about building something that neither of us could create alone."
What editing techniques have you used to achieve this sense of tactility?
We’ve always loved how film naturally gives images a tactile, textured feel. Some of the prints are enlarged, almost like paintings, to bring them closer to something you can touch. Mounting them on aluminum adds another layer of texture, transforming them into photo sculptures. Alongside that, the textiles and video installations introduce new ways to interact with the work. It's about giving the images a physical presence, something that can be felt, not just seen.
For this exhibition, we also collaborated with the female design duo Forever Studio to create a seating object — a bench inspired by the motion of a see-saw, inviting reflection on themes of balance, interaction, and isolation.
I Find Them Really Pleasant to Hold explores, partly, this this tension between control and surrender, and solitude and connection. In what part is it, then, an almost autobiographical work of interpersonal relationships? Even of brotherly and sisterly relationships.
Of course, our bond as sisters plays a significant role. It informs how we relate to each other and the world around us, but it's also about the universal dynamics that exist between people: the push and pull of intimacy, the complexities of closeness and distance. These contradictions are part of the human experience, and we’ve tried to reflect that in the work. The tension between holding on and letting go, between being close and still feeling alone, is something that resonates deeply with both of us, and perhaps with anyone who has experienced those moments of quiet connection.
Within the concept of holding space, the space that a visitor walks through inside of an art gallery (such as the one you present at Vasto in Barcelona) also comes into play. How has the decision to include the project as an open exhibition also contributed to make its concept a more complex whole?
Vasto Gallery is unique in that it functions both as an exhibition space and a home, with private areas displaying our work as well. The design of the space blurs the lines between the public and the private, creating an intimate atmosphere where the art is not confined to walls but exists within a lived environment. After the opening, the gallery is primarily accessible by appointment, offering a more personal interaction with the work. By inviting visitors into this shared space, we’re not just showing them our work, they are invited to step into it, to engage with it in a way that makes the concept of ‘holding space’ tangible. The space itself becomes part of the experience, with meaning evolving and shifting with each person who enters, making them active participants in the work.
What do you expect from the audience?
We don’t expect any specific reaction. What we would hope for though is that the audience can walk through the space, feel the tension, the intimacy, and let it unfold in a way that’s unique to them.
