Elena Helfrecht

The so-called "Bruchzeichen" are also used for markings and messages among hunters.

Frau Specht', 2019/20, from 'Unternächte', an ongoing project examining the time, myths, and traditions during Winter in my home area in Bavaria. The Specht is one of the figures here roaming the nights between Christmas and New Year. Read more below – project with more info on my website (link in bio). Looking much forward to continuing this in the colder months. When my grandfather was a child, his grandmother went into the garden with him to leave some leftovers from the Christmas dinner, to feed and appease the Specht, who would thank people with a rich harvest in the new year. This is my mom in a traditional costume of the Spechten of Konnersreuth. In the 80ies, the village revived this tradition by giving it a figural form, and now every year at noon on the 24th of December, the Spechten roam the village. Children are invited to throw old bread into the sacks they carry around with them, in exchange for candy, which the Spechten will then hand out in return. Traditionally it is told to children that, if they don't treat the Specht with respect and leave her some food, she will come at night, cut them open with her long blade, and fill their bellies with straw and stones. Naturally, this story is left away now in Konnersreuth – and the usual sharp knives the Specht is equipped with got actually replaced with wooden versions. In other areas the Specht goes around grinding her knives, screaming 'Wetza, wetza, Bauch aafschneidn' (Grinding, grinding, cutting the belly open).

And yet this capitalist society expects business as usual without any regard for the natural order of things. Oh, what a world we live in!

There's a new interview about my work, birds and upcoming projects on Lenscratch this week. :) Click here to have a read!

Allvater, 2022. From Unternächte. My grandpa's hands. Website | Instagram

From a commission by Emma Bowkett for Financial Times Weekend earlier this year, accompanying a piece by Precious Adesina, about insomnia and fear of the dark (click here).

Fragments. From the diary, 2022.

Prayer, 2021. From Plexus.

And like me, they prefer dark hiding spots and like to be left alone (which, admittedly, I didn't exactly do for photography's sake). Probably the reason why I always saw them as kindred spirits.

Not many copies left, so if you're thinking about it, now's the time ♥

“Here’s a secret. Until my mid-twenties, I was afraid of the dark. Not just walking down a deserted street at night-time — though, like most women, I would avoid this where possible. My fear followed me indoors. I couldn’t go to sleep at night without the ceiling light on. The idea of being alone in darkness, even in my own bedroom, was panic-inducing. My heart would pound, my breathing would quicken, and I would feel certain that something terrible was around the corner.” This weekend my work is accompanying a beautiful piece written by Precious Adesina on Financial Times Weekend, in print and online 💫 (The State of Mind issue) Massive thanks to Emma Bowkett for entrusting me with this dream of a commission. Head over to Financial Time to read more, or grab a physical copy! ❤

A shot from the diary. 2021.

https://elenahelfrecht.com/Plexus

Collector’s edition with two prints here

Grandma, 2018. From Plexus.

Collector’s edition with two prints here