Photographer (and punk music fan) Sven Kristian-Wolf lives in Salzburg and Vienna and photographs orchestras around the world.
His work throws light on what some regard as a mysterious and secluded world, providing a candid view on rehearsals audiences often don’t witness.
Here, Sven Kristian-Wolf shares his some of what motivates his work capturing a scene that clearly fuels his curiosity.
What was the first concert you attended that transformed your view? What did you hear?
When I was 18, I had the opportunity to take a class trip to Salzburg. The only condition was that I had to attend a classical concert in the evening.
At the time, I was fascinated by the gothic scene, so I thought: it can’t hurt to listen to a piece of music that deals with death, even if it’s classical music.
Within minutes, I realized that what I was hearing was something that would never let me go. It was Mozart’s Requiem.
Up until that moment, Mozart had been just the guy who wrote Eine kleine Nachtmusik and whose name was printed on chocolate wrappers.
But suddenly, he was someone who could take a teenager in Doc Martens, with piercings and dyed hair, by the hand and say: “You’re interested in music? Then listen closely.”

You refer to classical music’s honesty when writing about your work. What is it that you think is honest about classical music?
When we talk about honesty, we usually mean things beneath the surface—things like insecurity, anger, or fear. Things we might not even want to share with others. Punk can express these emotions unapologetically, though in a rough and raw way. But our emotional world is far too complex to be fully captured in just three minutes.
I suspect that Anton Bruckner was a very honest person.
When I listen to his symphonies, I feel like I’m getting a glimpse into his inner struggle—his constant tension between trust, love, and the fear of failure.
These are emotions we all experience but rarely express. And I think to myself: if Bruckner had these doubts, then I can have them too, without hesitation.
Another example is the first movement of Shostakovich’s Fifth String Quartet.
That constant, suppressed desire to scream something out loud, only to immediately pretend that everything is fine again—it leaves me speechless.

When and how did you come to go backstage or behind the scenes for the first time?
Until I decided to create “Orchestrapunk,” I had never been backstage at an orchestra.
My curiosity was the driving force behind photographing there.
I wanted to show that the common image of classical music—polished, distant, elitist—is simply not true.

Your photographs have a raw honesty to them. There’s also a sense of punk about them too. When you’re capturing, what are you looking for?
“Honesty” is a great keyword, and the story is simple: orchestral musicians are, first and foremost, people who work hard and, in most cases, truly enjoy their work.
That’s what I primarily want to show.
On one hand, because I have great respect for musicians and their work, and on the other, because, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t like how classical music is marketed to appear too polished.
But I don’t just focus on the people. Like any good photographer, I first look for the light, then for shapes and people. When I find all three, I press the shutter.
Punk is the most democratic of all music styles: anyone can pick up an instrument and will find an audience if they have something to say.
I want to bring that simplicity into my photography and combine it with the complexity of classical music—to show that classical music isn’t as complicated as many people think. Or as you put it: it’s just music.

Do you interact with the subjects at all, or is your preference reportage?
I would love to talk much more with the people I photograph, also to ask what they think of my work.
Unfortunately, I rarely get the opportunity. During rehearsal, it’s hard to start a conversation, and breaks are such a valuable time for taking pictures.
After rehearsal, everyone understandably just wants to go home quickly. However, some friendships with musicians have developed through photography.

In terms of equipment, what are you using to capture these shots? Its presumably long lens work?
You’re right, I use a 70–200mm lens from Tamron as I dont want to disturb anyone. This lens is affordable for everyone. I love its slight softness and the somewhat gritty character it has. I once tried shooting with an exceptionally good lens, but it didn’t work: it was too sharp, and the impact of the image was lost. My camera is nothing special either, a Nikon Z6. However, it has the great advantage of being a mirrorless camera. Thanks to the digital viewfinder, I can compose the photo in black and white right from the start.

As someone who has never liked punk music and would never give a second thought, tell me what I’m missing out on.
Punk is pure energy and the embodiment of the side we all carry within us: anger. C.G. Jung might say that punk helps us see and embrace our unwanted sides.