ST :

I have been photographing psychiatric illnesses for about twelve years now. When I heard about the Arttaca grant, I was thinking of a project idea to submit. Since documenting mental illness is time consuming and next to impossible in this time frame, I dove into a folder where I keep project ideas but haven’t had the time or opportunity to explore. A few years ago, while documenting mental illness in Indonesia, I heard about the Toraja Tribe who preserve their loved ones’ bodies in their homes anywhere between a few weeks (mostly for children) to up to a decade. I decided to explore this body of work using a full spectrum camera which can capture UV and infra-red light in addition to the normal visual spectrum. Capturing light which human beings cannot see seemed a good fit to talk about an invisible world where souls transit. As these types of camera are often used for forensic work, it also is very suited to shoot decomposing bodies and finding traces of life. Talking about a shift in style, I think it's a mixture of the subject I was photographing, and a personal loss that pushed me into working on a project involving the theme of grief and death. If you’re comparing the dead to somebody suffering from psychosis or mania, they could seem a world apart. One can be profoundly alive in an infectious way, while the other dictates a feeling of silence. One involves time and the other involves an absence of time. Death is however a common point to both projects. In Butterflies the individuals which are most often filled with a great death drive are rushing and burning towards death. In The Red that Remains, the process of death is in its final part and the sense of time is gone. Because the themes were different, my style was adapted. One is made up of quick and nervous thoughts while the other is slower and more meditative.

ST :

Red, because it flows in our veins when we’re alive. It soaks the ground as the buffalos get sacrificed to allow the dead to reach Puya (the Torajan version of heaven) and it remains and dries there. It also remains in traces in the corpses. It doesn’t disappear abruptly. Red also remains in our memory as a link to what was life. It connects us to the violence of death, both for the ones who die and the ones who stay. There are many interpretations. Foremost I want people to make their own. The only thing that was preconceived was this idea of using red and knowing my subject matter for this work. Even though I took multiple photographs of the funerals, I didn’t end up using most of them because my intention was not for this to be a classical documentary project, but a mixture between documentary photography, visual anthropology, and a personal project. I also felt a strong sense of compassion towards the buffalos who were being sacrificed. They became a main character to my story. If you look at the project, it follows the storyline of a Buffalo’s execution.

ST :

While there is definitely a spiritual and religious reasoning behind this entire ritual, I was made aware of an economic side to the practice that also dictates how long you keep the body in the house. The Torajans believe that their loved ones aren’t completely gone when they die, but are preparing for the journey towards Puya. [They speak to the family members as if they are still alive, and serve them regulars meals.] I realised that the families who weren’t as economically wealthy kept the bodies within their homes for a longer time in preparation for the funeral because of the expenses involved in buying the necessary buffalos. I found that some people in the new generation are against this. They prefer the idea of saving up towards their children’s education than on their tradition. From a religious standpoint, the buffalos are sacrificed because the Torajans believe that their ancestors were brought from the sky to the earth riding buffalos. At the end of their lives, they believe that the same animals transport them back to Puya which is identical to the world we currently live in. That is the reason why favourite objects often accompany the deceased in their coffin. These objects will become useful in Puya.

ST :

The Torajan culture is steeped in symbolism. They believe that the land of the dead is in the South West, and because of that, the coffin points in this direction right before the funeral. In the first part of the mourning period, the family member is laid to rest in the North of the house because the person is considered to be sick but still alive. The South is known as ‘the house of the father,’ and the North is ‘the house of the mother.’ The father symbolises death, and the mother, life. Before the Dutch colonised Indonesia, the Torajans used to embalm the bodies and wrap them in tight straps in a process of momification. After colonization, they were forced to use formaldehyde which is commonly used to preserve bodies in order to prevent the spread of diseases.

ST :

Since I was around many different families, there were a lot of reactions. Mostly, it was positive and welcoming. The Torajans are used to people coming and photographing quick snapshots with their smartphones. As I sometimes shot the bodies for up to 3 hours, it puzzled some members of the families. There sometimes was a misunderstanding about the reason why I was doing it. While I saw it as a sign of respect ( feeling the responsibility of making such an important picture), they didn’t always understand what I was doing or why I was doing it. Before I’d shoot, I’d speak to the family members and try to understand who I was photographing in an attempt at being respectful and getting to know their culture better, and primarily to imagine the person alive. Most photography is essentially about turning life, time, and movement into still images which are frozen in time as death is. For this project, I tried to do the opposite which was to create life from death. I realised very quickly that the dialogue between our concept of death and theirs is largely different especially when it comes to the pain involved in grief. They have a natural relationship with death, which we do not. For example, you will find fearless children surrounding the open coffins which isn’t a usual sight in my country. The corpses are not associated with anything negative or frightening. At first I felt a bit nervous around the dead bodies but mostly, the families made me feel at ease in photographing their loved ones. Regarding the edit, I’m not ever completely satisfied with any project. I only stayed in Indonesia for about 3 weeks because of the grant deadline. It is an unusual period for me as I usually stay a lot longer. It takes much longer to start understanding a culture. I can live with this version and am not ashamed of it, but still see many flaws that could be worked on. I feel like I could improve upon it if I went back. It’s something I haven't decided yet. I don't think any work is ever finished. To me a project’s finality is when you lose the passion and the desire to work on the subject.

ST :

I think all my projects are beyond being mere photographic projects because I'm not so interested in photography for the sake of photography. I always try to mirror something in my life through my work. I wouldn't exactly say it was cathartic, but I would say that it helped me make sense of loss and the relationship to the dead. In my culture, we aren’t used to long periods of mourning, and we bury fast and feel a pressure to try to move on. This project made me aware that mourning can take different shapes. I wouldn’t however call it ‘catharsis,’ but an important step in the mourning process.