My first time … at the Litar Gallery

In a quiet residential neighbourhood in Zurich’s 6th district, I passed the Galerie Litar – a space dedicated to literature – on several occasions. As a reader and writer, I was drawn to it, and in any case, there can never be enough of such places in this city. When I finally popped in for the first time in March, the exhibition ‘Poor Switzerland – Lika Nüssli & Albert Minder Tell Their Stories’ was on, presenting two biographical perspectives.

Somewhat shyly, I enter the small gallery on the ground floor and am greeted warmly. I’m immediately handed something to read: a comprehensive and beautifully designed publication accompanying the exhibition, Edition Litar 05. “Something for home, cool,” I think to myself; even better: I now know what to do with my hands.

In the exhibition, I first learn about Albert Minder (1879–1965), who recorded the life and suffering of his homeless family in his ‘Korber Chronicle’. Minder tells his story in a realistic, humorous way, without hatred towards a closed society that despised people like him. He writes about the absurdity and coldness of the capitalist world, yet not without a human, perhaps almost resigned, smile. Through yellowed documents, faded photographs and audio recordings, the exhibition brings Minder’s work to life, which dignifiedly highlights marginalised people from a nomadic culture and those affected by poverty at the end of the 19th century.

That Saturday, the small gallery is suddenly packed to the rafters, as a talk with Julia Marti, publisher at Edition Moderne in Zurich, promises fascinating insights into the world of graphic novels. The focus of the discussion is Lika Nüssli’s *Starkes Ding*. In it, the interdisciplinary artist from St. Gallen tells the moving story of her father, who was sent away to work as a child – a so-called ‘Verdingkind’.

I was quickly set straight: no, a graphic novel is not a comic, nor is it better or worse, just different. It contains a detailed narrative, usually in a single volume, and thus a complete and profound story. It is, therefore, a book, not a comic book.

The interplay of text and image creates a very special form of storytelling. The drawing style in ‘Starkes Ding’, with its skilful and expressive lines, draws on Alpine folk art and enables a magical narrative style that gives expression to the inner world of the young boy Ernst Nüssli.

Further on in the exhibition, I see original drawings, speech bubbles painted directly onto the wall, and excerpts from this story. The images make me feel melancholy, yet they are also full of energy and keep making me laugh.

My knowledge of this subject, which was long suppressed in Switzerland, is superficial. It was not until 2013 that Simonetta Sommaruga apologised on behalf of the federal government for this dark chapter in Swiss social history. I am grateful for this insight into the era of the ‘Verdingkinder’ and for having been able to learn more about the life of such a child.

Visiting the accessible exhibition finally made me realise that Nüssli’s graphic novel from 2022 and Minder’s family chronicle from 1947 (reissued by Chronos Verlag) are not works that process trauma. Rather, these affectionate biographies recount, with wit and charm, little-known facets of Switzerland’s past and the painfully timeless themes of exclusion, exploitation and poverty.

Through exhibitions, events and publications, Galerie Litar poses important questions: What does it mean today to read, to convey and to reflect on literature; not merely to interpret the world, but to improve it through literature? My first visit did not answer these questions, but it left me pondering them.