Fotograf
Jacob Aue Sobol
Sabine
By Jacob Aue Sobol
Introduction:
Sobol originally set out to take photographs in Tiniteqilaaq. Even the name of the place implies the ends of the earth: The strait that runs dry at low tide. After five weeks he had had enough. He took his black and white photographs and headed home - albeit with the sense that his village portrait was distorted. Four months later he returned to face the small society that had far more layers and levels of meaning than he had seen at first. And that is when Greenland captures him. The mountain landscape lies transparent and luminous, and the frozen waters lure him. He makes friends among the hunters, who take it upon themselves to train him. When this new existence suddenly starts to function - despite the arctic cold he can provide himself with food - the pampered motherland to the south shrinks into the pallid past and he resolves to test his strength against East Greenland's basic, existential challenges. But behind this decision lies his true motivation: Falling in love with Sabine.
Following stories are extracts from the book Sabine (2004):
The Dance
Sabine has put on lipstick, high heels and a polka-dot dress. It's the christening of her sister's first baby. "Peqqeraava? Am I beautiful?" Sabine asks. She lifts her skirt up revealing her star panties and a pair of laddered tights. "Iorunaraalid. You're wonderful," I reply, grab hold of her and start to dance. I've often watched Sabine dance at the village hall without wanting to join in. But now that we're alone in her uncle's house I surrender to both the dance and Sabine. We dance across tables, chairs and mattresses. Wilder and wilder. Through the open window we can hear the church bells chime but Sabine insists: "Aamma, aamma, qilinnermud ilinniardiiatsiikkid. More, more. Let me teach you how to dance!"
The Courage of Vittus
I'm out sealing with Vittus, Sabine's cousin. We set off in the dark at eight. For two hours we battle through the ice to reach the small patches of open water. Slowly the day dawns and soon the light will be fading equally slowly, just like the darkness in the summer. It's cold out there in Sermilik Fjord. Now and then we land on a big ice floe to get warm and look for seals in the small pools of open water. But there are no seals today. The temperature is around -25°C. Vittus looks at me and utters the only sentence of the day: "Kalaaddid Nunaanni uumatsangaanni tsanngilaajararpoq. It takes a certain amount of courage to live in Greenland."
In Love
I'm in love. Sabine is 19 and I'm 23. I've decided to stay in Tiniteqilaaq. I want to be a hunter. Shoot seals and catch fish. Learn the language. I've stopped taking photographs.
The Hunters of Tiniteqilaaq
I've watched them come home many times. As darkness descends the boats come in and the hunters walk silently through the village dragging their kill. One morning I get up before the sun and go down to the harbour to wait for them. At last I'm going hunting.
(…)We've only got as far as the island of Sarpaq when I see my first seal. "Aaddaaniaa!" Hans passes me his rifle. It's one of the hunters' unwritten laws: The first one to see a seal has to shoot it. 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't have enough blubber". We're gone from the morning until midnight. Hans teaches me Greenlandic words en route. Tsikeq, aaddaa, tsereeq: Ice, rifle, sun. I forget them at first, but Hans persists and soon I've learnt some of them by heart. There are a lot of seals that day. Hans shoots three, Augo five. The boat is full and we head for home. Far away the lights of Tiniteqilaaq emerge as small dots on the mountainside. "Look, Copenhagen!" says Hans.
When we land he invites me for supper. The entire family are gathered around a platter in the kitchen where we stuff ourselves with fresh seal meat and blubber as we go over the language lessons of the day: "Puilimi pilararpua! I've caught a seal!" "Nuliakkaaq mamakkaaju! Women are wonderful!"
45 m/s
There is ice on the inside of the window but Sabine and I have lit a row of candles on the windowsill to melt the ice and keep us warm. We're living in her uncle's attic, which faces northwest with a view of the inland ice and the Piteraq storms. We're sleeping on two thin foam mattresses. My clothes are laid out next to them in four layers, and there's a rifle leaning against the wall waiting to shoot its next seal. Maybe tomorrow. Otherwise the room is empty except for a small square table that's more like a stool. The windows up here are thin, and during storms the wind whistles through all the cracks and crevices. Sabine has started to cram her socks and underwear into the cracks. She's done a good job and has also blocked the air vent with cardboard and tape. "Pilarngar-lerpoq. Here comes the Piteraq," she says. I call the weather service and they tell me that the storm will arrive with a wind speed of up to 45 m/s.We close the shutters of the house and wait.
Dead dog and Chicken
Tonight I stumbled over a dead dog on my way home. It didn't survive the Piteraq. Sabine just got back from bingo. She won three times and her pockets are full of coins. We're having chicken for dinner.
Warm, Raw Seal's Liver
"Aanangaa!! There it is!!" I whisper. Next to a small island a seal sticks its head above the water. A second later it disappears again. We sail slowly towards the spot where the seal ducked down. And wait. "Aanangaa!" Hans has seen the seal again. I take aim. "Aaddaniaa!! Nukeerniaad! Shoot now! Come on!" But too late. The seal disappears and doesn't come back.
Hans is faster. He pulls out his harmonica and plays a rambling tune that he keeps warm dancing to. The seal picks up on the music. It looks up but goes under again fast. Hans is irritated and decides to pee. He's just begun when the seal emerges again. I whistle to Hans, who grabs his rifle, takes aim, fires and shoots the seal. Soon we will eat warm, raw seal's liver.
The Shower
"Puuh, dipararraalid! You smell!" says Sabine. I don't like bathing. Water and shampoo remove the thin layer of fat and dirt that protects you against the cold.
You can have a hot shower at the 'service station'. It costs 1.5 Euro and you can be in there for half an hour. Sabine has her own flannel with a cross on the corner that no one else is allowed to use. We scrub each other's backs. "Ilivami upparniaad. Make sure you wash yourself properly," Sabine says. The steam rises and the mirror mists then suddenly there's a knock at the door: "Tsivitserpaddaaligajeraaq. You've been in there long enough." Otto looks after the service station.
Mussels
In the long, narrow fjord of Ikaasaardiva Asser and I are waiting for low tide. Then we gather mussels on the beach. A big bag each. In Tiniteqilaaq you gather mussels for your lover.
Piteraq
(…)Not until gusts of wind start tugging at my jacket do I look up and see the snow flying across the ice. I leave in a hurry. Dragging the seal behind me I start heading for home. But too late. I'm caught in a Piteraq. The wind gets stronger and whips violent jets of snow and ice in my face. I've lost my bearings, the mountain is invisible, and any tracks have been erased. I grab my ice spear, constantly checking whether the ice ahead of me can bear my weight. The current is strong so there's no way of telling where the ice is thin. I make my way slowly through the growing ferocity of the Piteraq with a vague, instinctive idea of the direction of the village.
At one point an iceberg suddenly appears in front of me. It's both a good and bad sign: Good because I recognise the iceberg, which has been here since the fjord froze five months ago; bad because I know this is an area of strong currents. The ice spear penetrates the ice in front of me easily. It's the same in every direction - even the direction I came from. I lie down and push the seal further back to distribute the weight then crawl back to reach safer ground. In the darkness of the Piteraq I reach Tiniteqilaaq.
Home Again
(…)For a second we see the red sun disappear into the fjord. Not for a month - in the middle of January - will we see the sun above the mountains of Tiniteqilaaq again. As we fly over the fjords, mountains and glaciers houses gradually emerge as small, black dots on the mountainside and I wonder how people can live in such isolation. But not long after getting back I know that the people of Tiniteqilaaq are at the centre of the world and that outside events play an astonishingly minor role. This is where life has been hiding.
Sundet der løber tørt ved lavvande
JACOB AUE SOBOL: "SABINE"
Man kan godt blive ydmyg af at rejse i Grønland. Det er i hvert fald det signal, man får når man læser Knud Rasmussens indledning til beretningen om den første Thule-ekspedition i 1912: "Mange af den farende Mands Glæder og Oplevelser, som han finder værd at nedskrive, vil maaske forekomme den mere blaserte Bymand naive og ubetydelige; men jeg har ikke villet dække herover ved at fingere en Overlegenhed, jeg ikke besad; jeg er af den Opfattelse, at den uforbeholdne Hengivelse bunder i Friskheden over for Øjeblikket". Grønlandsfarerens ord rummer påstanden om at det vældige land med dets kulde, vidder og hårdføre befolkning ikke behøver nogen overdreven dramatisk iscenesættelse for at nå sit publikum. Grønland formidles bedst i det lavmælte - det er stort nok i sig selv.
Holdningen går igen hos den 23-årige dansker, Jacob Aue Sobol, da han først i det nye årtusind rejser til Østgrønland: hverken billeder eller tekst gør noget stort væsen af sig. Selvom kameraet fastholder voldsomme scenerier, så er der ingen pral. Billedernes intensitet vokser af det usagte, det tvetydige, det underspillede. Egentlig skulle Sobol bare tage nogle fotografier i Tiniteqilaaq, et sted hvis navn allerede gennem sin oversættelse antydede verdens ende: sundet der løber tørt ved lavvande. Efter 5 uger havde han fået nok. Han fik sine sort/hvid optagelser og drog hjem - men anede at bygdeportrættet måske var fortegnet. Efter 4 måneder kom han tilbage og måtte sande, at bygdesamfundet rummede mange flere lag og betydninger end han først kunne få øje på.
Og nu fanger Grønland ham ind. Fjeldlandskabet ligger transparent og lysende, og den tilfrosne havis lokker. Han får venner i fangermiljøet, som påtager sig at lære ham op, og da den ny tilværelse pludselig lykkes for ham - trods den artiske kulde kan han nu selv skaffe sig føden - ja så skrumper det forkælede moderland i syd ind til bleg fortid, og han beslutter at prøve sig selv af i mødet med Østgrønlands basale eksistentielle udfordringer. Men bag beslutningen ligger den egentlige motivation: forelskelsen i grønlænderpigen Sabine.
Omslagsbilledet spiller i bogstavelig forstand kærlighedstemaet ud: med fingersprogets lille hjertevindu sender titelpersonen signal til fotografen, der med armene hævet i samme position lynskyder sit rektangulære svar i form af billedet, der omrammer og fastholder det hele. Spillet er i gang. Tekstsiden meddeler glimt af den selvpålagte opdragelse (som forsørgerspire ved sælgarnet, som fisker ved ishullet, som 'ægtemand' i badet) eller dykker dybere i erkendelsesprocessen i form af notater om kultursammenstødet, kapitler om piteraq'en eller beretninger om grænseoverskridende oplevelser på kanten af døden. Billedsiden er mindre fragmentarisk, et forløb af 'udebilleder' der svøber sig omkring en serie af 'indebilleder', der som oftest har Sabine som emne og fokuspunkt, men også i fortættede glimt (som den flækkede sæl på badeværelsegulvet) forbinder natur og overlevelseskamp med en dampende erotik. De piskende isstorme, der veksler med stilheden i det arktiske mørke omkring huset, antyder en uforudsigelighed, der har sit sidestykke i Sabines mangfoldighed af udtryk: lidenskabelig, skælmsk, barnligt selvforglemmende, dæmonisk, øm, viljestærk, hadefuldt jaloux, cool, sorgnedbrudt. Til de uberegnelige svingninger i temperaturen, indendørs som udendørs, svarer en kameramæssig huggen til på tidspunkter, hvor udfaldet ikke kan aflæses: vi står, sidder eller ligger med fotografen og undrer os, er fortabt i et kaos, et gådeforløb af linier.
Centralt i serien skiller to billeder sig ud: et interiør i nær med øjenkontakt til en gruppe glade letpåklædte grønlændere - klassisk førkolonial åbenhed, havde det ikke været for den lille pige i midten, der lukker af med armene over kors og et konfronterende udtryk i sit smilløse ansigt. Og et eksteriør i total og fugleperspektiv, hvor en stor del af bygdens beboere anskues i et fællesskab, samlet omkring en begravelse. Begge billeder bringer bud om det nødvendige sammenhold, som bygdelivet kræver og forudsætter, men lader også en sprække åben for et modsatgående blik, nemlig på den, der registrerer, manden med kameraøjet, den udenforstående, danskeren.
For som det efterhånden bliver klart: velvilje er ikke nok. Ja, ikke engang kærligheden slår til som brobygger, når kløften er så afgrundsdyb som den bliver mellem to kulturer, som selv er under opløsning og i krise. Sabines lidenskabelige lille hjertevindue fra omslaget opfanges og reflekteres i Jacobs fotografiske rektangel. Her formes beretningens selvopløsende og tragiske fixpunkt: at kærlighedens op- og nedture tegner med på historien og - formentlig - afbrydes sammen med bogens sidste side. Er det kunstneren, den følsomme, der giver livet form og mening i sit værk, eller er det kvinden, livet og skæbnen, der hugger manden til, lader ham vokse og gør ham til kunstner? Eller er det bare det uafvendelige og uundgåelige: sundet der løber tørt ved lavvande?
Finn Thrane
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 - uddrag fra bogen "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!"
