Brad Feuerhelm’s *Dein Kampf* arrives from MACK with a title that swaps one pronoun for another and lets the substitution do the arguing. Published in September 2019, the book treats ideology not as a settled historical episode but as recurring pressure, surfacing in public life as anxiety, suspicion and renewed certainty. Berlin provides the ground: a city where rival political faiths collided across the twentieth century, and where traces of those collisions remain embedded in ordinary streetscape.

The photographs do not assemble a thesis so much as an atmosphere. Fragments of the past sit alongside the fixtures of capitalist modernity — banks, insurance offices, citizens pictured as though they were effigies rather than individuals — until the two registers blur into a single haze. Feuerhelm works through glitch and appropriation, methods that let him ask how images are made to carry ideological weight and how easily that weight can be disturbed. Looser anxieties run beneath: technology, religion, immigration, and the uncertain future of the photographic image itself.

Ulrich Baer contributes an accompanying text, giving the sequence a second register of address. The book’s real subject, though, is the book: how a sequence, a page turn and a formal arrangement of language can stage the relationship between image and ideology rather than merely describe it.

The hardback is issued with a silkscreen-printed cover at 28 by 21.5 cm. For collectors drawn to photobooks that use their own structure as an argument, this is a considered example: MACK’s production, a photographer whose interests sit at the intersection of appropriation, digital failure and political memory, and a writer attentive to how photographs hold history.