Museum stories: Kārlis Lakše (1892-1949)
FK Magazine is collaborating with the Latvian Museum of Photography to showcase works by both well-known and lesser-known photographers of the early 20th century from the museum’s collection. These curated selections of photographs form independent narratives while also offering insight into the photographers’ creative processes and potential avenues for further research.
The Latvian Museum of Photography’s collection includes more than 3,000 glass plate negatives and photographs by Kārlis Lakše (1892–1949), most of which are digitised. Lakše was born in Koknese, where he developed an early interest in photography. In 1914, he began his studies at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts, and from 1921, he continued studying painting with Vilhelms Purvītis at the Art Academy of Latvia, although he never graduated. Lakše returned to Koknese, where he spent the rest of his life and continued to take photographs. Unlike many other Latvian photographers of the time, Lakše never worked in a studio. His archive provides valuable insight into the working processes of Latvian artists in the first half of the 20th century, as well as the painting of the ceiling of the Splendid Palace cinema theatre from 1922 to 1923. Lakše took many photographs of himself and his family, capturing everyday life, work processes, architecture, festivals, theatre, and other social events in Koknese and the surrounding area.
When Lakše’s creative legacy was handed over to the museum in the 1990s by his wife Olga Akmens’ sister, Milda Mūrniece (Akmens), he was rightly called a forgotten and unknown artist. However, this perception has gradually changed over the last decade. Lakše has secured a stable place in the history of Latvian photography as a unique representative of subjective documentalism. He is still deservedly awaiting recognition through a major research study.
His wife, Olga, plays a special role in Kārlis Lakše’s photography. In the Lakše archive, it is possible to trace the story of their relationship—from early portraits of the two when they were very young and meeting each other’s parents to later portraits of Olga, where the traces of tuberculosis can be seen on her face. She fell ill and passed away in 1942.
The archive includes both everyday moments of the couple spending time alone or with friends, as well as posed portraits that reveal an exploration of form and light. Olga’s sister is also extensively photographed—one particularly touching portrait shows Olga assisting Lakše as he photographs her sister, yet he has included both of them in the frame.
The museum’s collection also includes a letter written by Lakše to his wife, titled The Happy Prince of the Sun and His Little Fairy Tale—an allegorical love story about the two of them. Among other photographers, Lakše also stands out for his large number of self-portraits. But perhaps it was Olga all along?
*Any further use and distribution of the photographs must be coordinated with the Latvian Museum of Photography.
