When I was a fashion photographer, I needed the help of assistants. To select among the many candidates, I used to ask them three preliminary questions:

Can you drive?

Can you speak English?

Can you type?

Their passion for photography I took for granted: otherwise they would not have applied for a job that was both difficult and poorly paid.

Christine fulfilled more than these criteria: she spoke three or four languages, had travelled extensively and seemed to have a good education. Last not least she had some interesting images in her portfolio.

The only problem was that she was a tiny young woman. "I would like you to assist me" I told her, "but one of my weaknesses is that I hate to carry loads: when we are on location, my assistant has to carry all my cameras and the rest of the equipment."

This did not discourage her: "I shall carry your cameras and all the rest."

As it happened, our first job was a trip to India. For this I needed not only my usual equipment, but also several tele-lenses and a heavy tripod. Christine made it a point of honour to carry everything, with the result that when walking in front of her, with my hands free and no weight on my shoulders, I didn't quite convey the image of a gallant gentleman.

On the other hand, her contribution went far beyond these physical efforts. During our photo sessions, she made me feel as if I had a second pair of eyes, which perceived details that I didn't notice, and an extra judgement, that made itself heard at the appropriate time.

During the following thirty years we remained friends. Destiny offered Christine many things that some people could wish for - while withholding others that she herself desired: like the possibility to dedicate herself fulltime to photography.

But, as Italians say: non tutto il male vien per nuocere - not all bad things come to do harm. Christine hasn't been able to make as many photos as she would have liked - but the ones she took were photographs that she had to take.

I don't know many photographers whose work conveys to me this feeling of necessity, both in the sense that the subject had to be photographed, and that the photographer felt the urge to shoot. This is why Christine Turnauer had to open the series of my guests.

Visiting an old friend who lives at the foot of the highest mountain in Austria, the "Grossglockner", I discovered the beauty of the old pre-war generation of mountain farmers. They had to cope with a harsh life, filled with hard work. The lack of futile distractions was balanced by still being embedded in their old tradition.

Their faces express dignity, strength, character and humour. They reminded me somehow of the Native Indians in Canada by their quality of people who know who they are.

I extended my search for people with these qualities in other rural mountain areas and discovered that the best place to find them was of course Church on Sunday. There you can observe people from behind "their necks". (The women when they are young have their plaits wrapped around their heads. When they become older they twirl what is left into a small something that has the shape of a snailhouse.)

In church, in front of me, there was a visibly old woman (with a snail house hairdo) with a neck of a child and an attitude of holding her head that was utterly charming. This discrepancy between her age, her childlike neck and the particular innocence of ther attitude fixed my attention and I was completely fascinated.

I was anxious to see her face and waited for her outside the church. I came face to face with a very old lady in her mid-eighties with thick glasses, a big nose and the most incredible mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

At my request to photograph her, she was both astonished and amused and there was no problem to make an appointment for the next day.

I photographed her in life-size, first her face and than the neck. To have her neck photographed seemed to her surprising.

We rarely get to see our neck, it is a very vulnerable part of our body over which we seem to have very little control. The face has the appearance of the moment, it can respond, the neck cannot betray, it reveals our being expressed in the attitude that seems inscribed over the years. In older people I have discovered that with time some very interesting wrinkles have been engraved into their necks.

If you observe carefully you can see that the attitude of a person is expressed by the way they hold their necks - timid and uncertain or well grounded and conscious of their body. The "stiff neck" seems to express the difficulty to let go.

This newly made discovery made me want to pursue to photograph not only my sitter's faces but also their necks; thereby making a portrait more complete.

Face and neck are complimentary and together translate the totality of a person. The two photographs back and front, side by side, suddenly give volume and where formerly there where only two dimensions a third dimension appears.

This became relevant also in the photograph of the falcon "RAGAZZA" and I am waiting to discover more.

1946 Born in Austria, on December 13th.

1970 Moved to Paris.

1973 - 1975 Assistant to Frank Horvat.

1975 - 1979 Free-lance photographer.

1979 Immigrated to Alberta, Canada, where she worked as a farmer and studied art history.

1986 - 1986 Photographed Native Indian Dancers. To achieve this she built a portable studio that she carried in her car and on its roof. She attended Pow-Wows (yearly festivals held on the Native Indian reserves) where tribes from western Canada and the USA meet to celebrate their culture and hold traditional dance competitions. These images were exhibited in Calgary and Banff (Canada), in London (Canada House) and later in Prague. A small book was published in Canada.

This series was followed by other portrait studies of twins and original personalities living in Calgary.

1996 Back in Paris, Christine photographed her son Auguste and his friends. This led to 24 life-sized portraits of young boys and girls between the ages of 17 and 19, where one can observe the change taking place between adolescence and adulthood.

1999 Return to Austria. Christine started a project of portraits inspired by the pre-war generation of mountain-farmers.