Barbara Sigg, October 2, 2025
In 1976 I was eighteen and went to the Patti Smith concert in the Rote Fabrik with my boyfriend at the time. I already knew Horses—the album had made a great impression on me. As a regular at the Rote Fabrik, I had a “Thearena Passpartout,” which was a type of membership card. I spent a lot of evenings in the Fabrik—legendary disco nights, creative people, fashion shows like SAFT. I was in the first year of training as a photographer at a fashion and advertising studio in Zurich.
We traveled in by train from Thalwil. During the concert we stood at the back of the hall. Patti Smith was absolutely mesmerizing, the music powerful—until suddenly our eyes started to burn. “Tear gas!”—people ran for the exits. We were also hit full on, so we cut things short and went back to Thalwil. We ended up spending the night in the park under a fruit tree—the burning only slowly went away.
My future husband Helmi was also at the concert—but he also had to leave early because of the tear gas. Even today, we still wonder if our paths might have crossed back then.
The painter HR Giger was there, too, and is said to have danced wildly. My husband knew him personally.
Later I found out that Patti Smith had stayed at the Hotel Engematthof—just around the corner from where I was working on Lessingstrasse. That would have made me terribly nervous at the time.
My Thearena-Pass from 1976, signed by Remo Galli, head of Thearena. I developed the pass photo myself and gave it a grainy look—a standard passport photo was out of the question for such a cool ID.
The Rote Fabrik in 1976—it was pure energy, a feeling of awakening and freedom. Patti Smith fit into that perfectly. We were all inspired by her enthusiasm, her art, her power.
Later I moved on, but that concert, Patti Smith, and the time at the Rote Fabrik will stay in my heart forever. Years later, a singer who I photographed in the studio, gave me the book Just Kids. I was deeply touched by story of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe. And I even got to meet Annie Leibovitz, my favorite photographer, who also took photos of Patti Smith. But that’s another story.