Photographer
Jacob Aue Sobol
Sabine
By Jacob Aue Sobol
Introduction:
Soboloriginally set out to take photographs in Tiniteqilaaq. Even the nameof the place implies the ends of the earth: The strait that runs dry atlow tide. After five weeks he had had enough. He took his black andwhite photographs and headed home - albeit with the sense that hisvillage portrait was distorted. Four months later he returned to facethe small society that had far more layers and levels of meaning thanhe had seen at first. And that is when Greenland captures him. Themountain landscape lies transparent and luminous, and the frozen waterslure him. He makes friends among the hunters, who take it uponthemselves to train him. When this new existence suddenly starts tofunction - despite the arctic cold he can provide himself with food -the pampered motherland to the south shrinks into the pallid past andhe resolves to test his strength against East Greenland's basic,existential challenges. But behind this decision lies his truemotivation: Falling in love with Sabine.
ARCTIC INCURSION
About Greenland in the viewfinder and the ability of documentary photography to renew itself, especially in light of Jacob Aue Sobol's Sabine
by, FINN THRANE
Traveling in Greenland can be a humbling experience. At least, that is the impression from reading the introduction to Knud Rasmussen's story about the first Thule expedition in 1912. "A lot of the traveling man's joys and experiences, which he finds worth writing down, may appear naive and insignificant to the more sophisticated townsman; but it has not been my intention to cover over this by simulating a superiority I did not possess; I am of the opinion that unconditional abandonment is the result of readiness in the face of the moment." These words include the claim that the immense country, with its coldness, wide-open spaces and tough population, does not need an exaggerated dramatic staging in order to reach its audience. Greenland is best communicated in a low voice - it is large enough in itself.
It has not always been like this, far from it. In the 250 years Greenland was a Danish colony, the remote and icecap-covered island was enveloped in a mystery fed by what people didn't know. The first accounts originated from adventurers and scientists who had defied climate and primitive expedition life (fig. 1) and now wanted to harvest recognition for their efforts and the accolades that followed. The scientific records often were designed to mark the differences between the backward culture they had visited, under such stressful conditions, and their own as representative of the colonial power. Their elevation to hero status and the expanded proportion of myths were confirmed when they corroborated their findings with the basic material of verification—photographs. These photographs (fig.2) showed not only the participants of the expeditions and their ice-covered ship, but also portraits of the 'strange people' (the natives), sitting in their dirt- or ice-caves in the middle of the wilderness; the women often scantily clad with bare breasts (fig. 3). Already from the 1850s photographers traveled the west coast, while Thule and the east coast didn't receive camera-equipped archeologists, geologists and ethnographers until half a century later. Also here film and glass plates were used to reaffirm the [cultural] distance: "The photographs' clinical mode of depiction testify to the preoccupation of that time with a so-called material culture and physical anthropology. Consequently, several of the people are presented in profile and frontally (fig. 4), while others are placed in front of skin tents or by sleds, thereby reducing them to museum displays..." (fig. 5).
The young Danish photographer Jacob Aue Sobol brought neither social prejudices nor social criticism with him when he first traveled to eastern Greenland. He was only on a job, making a documentary series from Tinitequilaaq, a godforsaken place whose name, through translation, implies the end of the world: The sound that runs dry at low tide. After five weeks Sobol had had enough. He got his black and white shots and went back to Denmark—but could soon see that his portrait of the settlement might be distorted. Four months later he returned to Greenland and resumed photographing.
On this second trip he sees that the little community incorporated many more layers and meanings than he could see the first time. This time, Greenland captures him. The hilly landscape lay transparent and glowing and the frozen seawater lures. He makes friends among the hunters, who take it upon themselves to train him. He becomes a hunter and a fisherman and can, despite the arctic cold, provide his own food. As this new life suddenly pans out for him the pampered motherland to the south shrinks into a pale past, and he decides to test himself in meeting the basic existential challenges of eastern Greenland. But behind this decision lay the real motivation: falling in love with the Greenlandic girl, Sabine. This circumstance not only changes his arctic project, but also fundamentally affects the language he uses to tell his story. The violent inner revolution melts together with dramatic nature and sends out its boiling hot prominences to meet the absorbing darkness and the icy piteraqs —projections we have seen before when "unhappy love rains from above". But until now Greenland and the Greenlanders haven't been captured so raw and become visible in the language of photography. But there have been attempts, and there exists a forceful parallel, where the incentive isn't erotic infatuation but political indignation.
The aforementioned Knud Rasmussen (fig. 6) had a Greenlandic background, and his Danish follower Peter Freuchen (fig. 7) was married to a Greenlandic woman. These men had an unconditional love for the Eskimos. They lived with them and enjoyed their hospitality, at the same time studying them, writing down their stories and sporadically documenting them with the camera—respectfully and emphatically, but often at a distance. It is only at the end of the 1930s and through the 1940s that a Danish photographer, Jette Bang, seriously approaches the essence of Greenland: that seal flaying, drum dance, kayaking, and dogsledding were done by people with a magnificent and intact emotional life. For the first time, this knowledge is communicated in sharply detailed prints and surprising close-ups (fig. 8).
In the 1960s and '70s it was the films—the Danish documentary and especially the multitalented Jørgen Roos—that helped the Danes understand Greenland's development. But not until the mid 1990s did a photographic initiative, Per Folkver's and Frank Hvilsom's Of the Inner Strength (1994), dare show, from the Greenlandic perspective and way of thinking, the basically gloomy testimony, namely the story about one of the highest rates of suicide in the world. Here, we meet "a universally valid story about longing and disappointment, loneliness and alienation, devil-may-care despair and euphoric joy etched into the consciousness as an expression of the lurking desperation to which the teenage suicides testify". Sympathy and understanding is undeniably on the side of the Greenlanders. Similarly, Finn Larsen created a documentary series in color of homeland narratives describing the modern Greenland and its changing culture, suspended between communities of hunters and the modern dependence on consumption (fig. 9).
The most important renewal of the portrait of the great arctic island comes from Greenland itself, by the academy trained Pia Arke, who had her breakthrough with a number of culture-critical photographic projects in the 1990s. Arke was born and raised in eastern Greenland the daughter of a Greenlandic mother and Danish father. She made literal her homesickness for the great island by building a pinhole camera so big that she could live in it, and had it placed on the hillside so it could capture forever, with its long exposures, the view of the inlet and the drift ice. The view reminded her of her childhood home in the settlement, which now—in the name of development —had been demolished and erased. In several later series with found images, Pia Arke sharpened her sword against cultural imperialism, when she put together a mosaic of older anthropological Eskimo pin ups with bearskin clad heroes, flaunting ethnic and sexual condescendence and stirring debate.
Work on Greenlandic identity must, for good reasons, first and foremost be a Greenlandic responsibility. But the desire for clarification eventually envelops a visitor like Jacob Aue Sobol. Initially, his contact with the small population of the settlement is through hunting and fishing, and later through love for Sabine. Only afterwards the camera begins working, but so radically that the documentary photograph gains new stature. The series in its rawness is likened to the work of such international names as the Swedish Anders Petersen and the British Richard Billingham.
The book's cover plays out the love theme: With a little finger-formed heart window the main character sends her signal to the photographer. With arms raised in the same position he fires back his rectangular response—the picture, which frames and retains it all. The game is set in motion. The text parts communicate glimpses of the self-imposed education—as budding breadwinner at the seal net, as a fisher at the ice hole or as the 'husband' in the bathtub—or dives deeper into the process of recognition in notes about the clash of cultures, chapters about the piteraq or stories about boundary crashing experiences at death's door.
The visual part is less fragmentary. It is structurally chained together through a sequence of 'outside pictures', engulphing a series of 'inside pictures', which often have Sabine as subject and focus. Condensed glimpses—like the flayed seal on the bathroom floor—combine nature and the fight for survival with a steaming eroticism. The lashing ice storms, alternating with the arctic darkness around the house, imply an unpredictability reflected in the many expressions of Sabine: passionate, roguish, childlike, selfless, demonic, tender, willful, jealous, cool, grief-stricken. Like the unpredictable changes in temperature, outside as well as inside, the camera strikes suddenly at moments when the outcome cannot be anticipated. We stand, sit or lie with the photographer pondering a chaos or a mysterious sequence of lines. Central to the series two pictures stand out: the first, an interior semi-close up with eye contact to a group of glad, lightly dressed Greenlanders, presenting classic pre-colonial openness—were it not for the little glowing girl in the middle, closing off with arms crossed, a confrontational look in her smileless face. The other an exterior in bird's-eye perspective, with a large part of the settlement's population viewed as a community, gathered for a funeral. Both send a message about the necessary solidarity, demanded of and depended on by life in the settlement. This also leaves a crack open for an opposing view, namely of the one registering, the man with the camera eye, the outsider, the Dane.
What eventually becomes clear is that good will isn't enough. Yes, not even love can suffice as bridgebuilder, when the gulf is as deep as it gets between two cultures, which are collapsing themselves, in crisis. Sabine's small passionate love window from the cover of the book gets caught and is reflected in Jacob's photographic rectangle. Here the self-destructive and tragic anchor point of the story is formed: that the ups and downs of love are co-writing the story and - probably - end simultaneously at the last page. Is it the artist, the sensitive one, who gives life form and purpose in his work, or is it the woman, life and destiny, who carves the man and makes him an artist? Or is it just the inevitable: The sound that runs dry at low tide.
Finn Thrane
Director, Museum of Art Photography, Odense, Denmark
Jacob Aue Sobol
(b. 1976 in Copenhagen, Denmark)
Education
1998-2000 Fatamorgana, The Danish School of Art Photography.
1997-1998 The European Film College.
Solo Exhibitions
2008 Tokyo, Museet for Fotokunst, Odense, DK, (upcoming)
2008 Sabine, Yossi Milo Gallery, New York, USA, (upcoming)
2007 Sabine, Silo Gallery, Porto, Portugal
2007 Sabine, Month of Photography, Krakow, Poland
2007 Sabine, Gallery Sztuki, Konin, Poland
2006 Sabine, Yours Gallery, Warsaw, Poland
2006 Sabine, Open Eye Gallery, Liverpool, UK
2004 Sabine, David Mirvish, Festival of Danish Art, Toronto, Canada
2004 Sabine, Premiere Dance Theatre, Festival of Danish Art, Toronto, Canada
2004 Sabine, Frederiks Bastion, Copenhagen, Denmark
Group Exhibitions
2008 Unseen, Museum of Contemporary Art, Shanghai, China
2008 Discovery of Fotofest 2006, Fotofest, Houston, USA
2007 One shot each, Museet for Fotokunst, Odense, Denmark
2007 Contemporary Danish Photography, Fotofest, Houston, USA
2006 Closed Eyes, Museum of photographic Art, Odense, Denmark
2006 37 seconds, The BBC big screen, the Liverpool Biennial/The BBC, Liverpool
2006 World Mental Health Day, Frederiksberg rådhus, Copenhagen, Denmark
2005 Contemporary Danish Photography, Faulconer Galleri, Grinnell, Iowa, USA
2005 Frispark, Galleri Spark, Copenhagen, Denmark
2003 Charlottenborg forårsudstilling, Copenhagen, Denmark
2003 Odense photo triennale, Museum of photographic Art, Odense, Denmark
2001 Greenland in pictures, The National Museum of Photography, Copenhagen
2000 Sons and lovers, Galleri Bossky, Copenhagen, Denmark
1999 Fatamorgana anniversary exhibition, Øksne-hallen, Copenhagen, Denmark
Books/Films
2004 Sabine, photo book, Politikens Forlag, Copenhagen, Denmark
2004 Rejsen, 12min, short film, photographer, Cotzal, Guatemala
1998 Take the A-train, 22 min. short film, director, Copenhagen, Denmark
Awards
2006 1st prize award, World Press Photo, Daily Life Stories
2005 Sabine nominated, Deutche Börse Photography Prize.
Jacob Aue Sobol - aue.sobol@gmail.com
Selected Publications/Reviews
2008 Mare Magazine, Germany, 4 pages
2007 Month of Photography, Katalog, 2 pages, Krakow, Poland
2007 Ojo de Pez, Sabine, 10 pages, Spain
2007 Gomma Magazine, Tokyo, Guatemala and Sabine, 10 pages, UK
2007 Volkskrant Magazine, Greenland, 12 pages, Holland
2006 Source Magazine, review Sabine, Ireland
2006 Internazionale, Greenland, 5 pages, Italy
2006 The Guardian/Observer, review Sabine, UK
2006 British Journal of Photography, 5 pages, Sabine/Gua, UK
2006 Internazionale, 5 pages, Guatemala, Italy
2006 PDN Magazine, 5 pages, Sabine/Guatemala, USA
2006 Pozytyw Magazine, Sabine/Greenland, Poland
2005 Foto 8 Magazine, 6 pages, Sabine, UK
2005 British Journal of Photography, review, Sabine, UK
2005 Identity Matters, review, Sabine, Holland
2005 Scandinavian Photography 2:Denmark, Catalog, Sabine, USA,
2005 Danish Photography - I egen samling, Catalog, Sabine, Denmark
2004 Information, review, Sabine, Denmark
2004 Weekend-Avisen, review, Sabine, Denmark
2004 Politiken, review, Sabine, Denmark
2004 Jyllands-posten, review, Sabine, Denmark
2004 Berlingske-Tidende, review, Sabine, Denmark
Grants
2007 Politiken's fund, Johanne and Louis Hansens Fund.
2005 The National Art Foundation, Politiken's fund, Johanne and Louis Hansens Fund.
2004 The Danish Contemporary Art Foundation: The Visual Arts Centre, BG-Foundation, The Copenhagen Visual Art Department, King Christian X's Foundation, The Denmark-Greenland Cultural Fund, C.L.David Grant
2003 The National Art Foundation, The Danish Contemporary Art Foundation: The Visual Arts Centre, The Literature Centre, Politiken's Fund, The Royal Greenland Foundation, Aage og Johanne Louis-Hansen's Trust, The Greenland Christmas Seal Foundation, Nordbok: The Nordic Literature and Library Committee, The Danish Parliament's Greenland Trust.
2002 C.L.Davids Scholarship, TheDanish Parliament's Greenland Trust, 2001 Queen Margrethe and Prince Henrik's Foundation, The Velux Foundation, The Greenland Home Rule Culture Fund, C.L.Davids, Qilakitsoq-Foundation
2000 The Danish Ministry of culture's Development Fund, C.L.Davids Grant.
Galleries
Yossi Milo Gallery, NY, USA
Collections
Museet For Fotokunst (Museum of Photographic Art) Odense, Denmark.
Det Nationale Fotomuseum (The National Collection of Photography) Cph., Denmark.
Statens Kunstfond (The National Art Collection), Copenhagen, Denmark
Collection of Martin Parr, London, UK
Jacob Aue Sobol - aue.sobol@gmail.com
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Jacob Sobol - section from the book "Sabine":
The Hunters of Tiniteqilaaq
I've watched them come home many times.As darkness descends the boats come in and the hunters walk silentlythrough the village dragging their kill. One morning I get up beforethe sun and go down to the harbour to wait for them. At last I'm goinghunting.
(…)We've only got as far as the island of Sarpaq when Isee my first seal. "Aaddaaniaa!" Hans passes me his rifle. It's one ofthe hunters' unwritten laws: The first one to see a seal has to shootit. Calmly I take aim and fire my first bullet. "Jacob has shot a seal," Augo shouts. But all that's left is a red trail in the water."Aammaqqaakinnermii kivioq," Hans explains: "It sank because it didn'thave enough blubber". We're gone from the morning until midnight. Hansteaches me Greenlandic words en route. Tsikeq, aaddaa, tsereeq: Ice,rifle, sun. I forget them at first, but Hans persists and soon I'velearnt some of them by heart. There are a lot of seals that day. Hansshoots three, Augo five. The boat is full and we head for home. Faraway the lights of Tiniteqilaaq emerge as small dots on themountainside. "Look, Copenhagen!" says Hans.
When we land heinvites me for supper. The entire family are gathered around a platterin the kitchen where we stuff ourselves with fresh seal meat andblubber as we go over the language lessons of the day: "Puilimipilararpua! I've caught a seal!" "Nuliakkaaq mamakkaaju! Women arewonderful!"
