My Secret Garden – Platinum Print Photographs

My Secret Garden is a series of handmade platinum print photographs by German fine art photographer Jan Schlegel. Created from large format collodion negatives, the works focus on tulips reduced to form, surface, and structure.

Observed at close distance and removed from their natural context, the flowers begin to shift. What is commonly perceived as decorative becomes precise and almost architectural. The images do not describe the subject, but isolate it—allowing form to unfold.

The use of handmade collodion negatives introduces irregularities and artifacts that become part of the image itself, reinforcing its physical presence. In addition to the standard platinum prints, selected works are also available as a special edition printed on handmade Japanese Gampi paper, mounted on gold—introducing a further layer of material depth and fragility.

Each work is produced as a platinum print, known for its tonal range and permanence, and released in strictly limited editions.

Available as limited edition single prints in sizes of 40 × 50 cm, as well as a complete set presented in a handmade portfolio.

Presented at leading international art fairs, including Paris Photo, AIPAD New York and Photo London.

My Secret Garden

Botanical Fine Art Photography — Handmade Platinum Prints on Gampi Paper

Part I — Tulips
Part II — Bearded Iris

My Secret Garden is a contemporary fine art photography series exploring beauty, emotion, love, and affection through the fragile world of flowers. Created with a traditional large format camera on film, the final works are handmade platinum prints on delicate Japanese Gampi paper, enhanced with gold.

The series began not with flowers I found, but with flowers I grew.

The tulips and bearded irises photographed in this body of work come from my own garden. I selected them, planted them, cared for them, and watched them slowly emerge from the earth. I followed the first signs of life breaking through the soil, observed their transformation day after day, and waited for the moment when they finally revealed themselves.

For me, this changed everything.

I could have simply gone to a flower shop and bought beautiful flowers for a photograph. But then I would only have chosen their appearance. I would have missed the relationship, the anticipation, the patience, and the emotional connection that grew together with them.

The title My Secret Garden reflects this private place of discovery. Across many cultures, gardens have symbolized harmony, paradise, transformation, and personal growth. My own garden became such a place — not only a place where flowers grow, but where observation, attention, and affection grow as well.

The first chapter started with 250 tulip bulbs that I carefully selected and planted. Returning from one of my travels, I found them in full bloom. Their beauty felt different because I had been part of their journey. I had chosen their place, protected them, watered them, and waited.

When I finally brought them into my studio, I was not photographing anonymous flowers. I was photographing something familiar — something with a history.

The second chapter continues with the bearded iris. After the quiet elegance of the tulip, the iris revealed a different character: more complex, more sculptural, almost mysterious. Its delicate folds, textures, and movements reminded me of fabric, skin, or gestures — fragile moments preserved for only a short time.

I started to realize that these photographs had become portraits.

Each flower carried its own presence. Some were gentle, some dramatic, some almost theatrical. My role was not to arrange beauty, but to recognize it.

The final print becomes an extension of this idea. The delicate handmade Gampi paper, the permanence of platinum, and the subtle presence of gold create a dialogue between fragility and eternity — reflecting the short, precious moment in which each flower reveals its beauty.

A few years ago, I asked a friend — an accomplished curator and gallerist — how she would define art. She answered: “When something very personal becomes common.”

I have thought about this sentence many times, and it became central to My Secret Garden. This series is not really about flowers. It is about the willingness to care, to observe, and to create a connection.

For me, photography begins long before I place the camera in front of a subject. It begins with attention.

Only when something matters to me personally can I hope that it might matter to someone else.