On Moments of Reflection with Analog Touchpoints, Objects and their Significance
by Valerie Präkelt

The photography series Room 13 takes us inside the Hotel Boutique Decor Walther. This hotel doesn’t exist on any map—rather, it is an imagined place created and shot by Viviane Hausstein and Marc Krause at the invitation of Decor Walther. But if this hotel had an address, it could be anywhere: at the foot of a mountain, near the beach, in a metropolis that never sleeps—like the two protagonists of the photobook, who wander restlessly through the hotel and have chosen to stay in Room 13. While many hotels avoid this supposedly unlucky number, these two visitors are not concerned with superstition, as much as tactile interactions: the furniture and objects that give the house its character. A finger pressing the soap dispenser, a close up of a face reflecting in the circular bathroom mirror, a hand lifting a crystal glass to the mouth and placing a toothbrush in the jet-black porcelain cup—occasionally, one wishes it were possible to bring all these things to life. Surely they could tell the most incredible stories about the guests who come and go.

In hospitality, all of the interactions a guest has with a property are referred to as touchpoints—encompassing every experience, from the digital booking process to check-out. This is one of the rare occasions where the German word is far more sensual: Berührungspunkte sits softly on the lips. In the Hotel Boutique Decor Walther, there are many such touchpoints. For example, when the visitors use a large metal key to unlock the heavy room door and slip into cotton pyjamas sewn by an Italian manufacturer. It’s these analogue touchpoints that create vivid memories. This also applies to interacting with the hotel’s furnishings: usually, we perceive an object first with our eyes. The initial observation determines whether we like it; whether we find the object beautiful. Through touch, however, the originality, authenticity, and materiality of an object can be truly appreciated.

In a good hotel, quality and durability are decisive criteria for selecting products and commodities. A hotel room is a microcosm. All the things it contains must be made to withstand hundreds, no, tens of thousands of guest interactions gracefully—and age beautifully. For a company like Decor Walther, the namesake of this fictional hotel, these considerations always served as core values that guide the design of bathroom and living accessories, lights, and mirrors that are both aesthetically pleasing and durable. It’s never just about the shell, but about the interplay of sight and touch. We don’t know how many touchpoints the two visitors of Room 13 ultimately collect during their visit, nor do we learn how long they stay in the Hotel Boutique Decor Walther. Perhaps they are only a fleeting memory, or an idea sketched onto a notepad; just like the hotel with a room numbered 13—where nothing lasts forever, except for the objects that remain there.