My name is Johan Bävman. I am 27 years of age and live in Malmö in the south of Sweden.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved photography and was essentially self-taught. My interest continued and I was accepted as a photography student at Östra Grevie Folkhögskola. It was there that I had an opportunity to explore the different genres within the field, ranging from fashion to art. I finally realized that it was documentary photography that I had a burning desire to explore.
After my year at Östra Grevie, I was accepted to the highly acclaimed “Nordens Fotoskola” (The Nordic School of Photography”) on Biskops-Arnö Island, outside of Stockholm. During two intensive years, I broke my own barriers as far as how I believed the documentary photo should look. While being exposed to situations and meetings with the camera as a companion, I understood quickly how much joy it gave me to be a documentary photographer. I enjoy being enriched and learning by involvement in the surroundings. It’s more meaningful to me than reading about a subject and being far removed from the action. This is something I will never get enough of.
After graduating I was fortunate to be hired by one of Sweden’s largest evening newspapers and subsequently by one of the largest morning papers. The choice to become a photographer felt totally and completely right. I was honored to get a chance to share touching and moving stories through photos with a broad audience.
Unfortunately there are days that make me less happy. I am thinking of the days when you as a newspaper photographer are sent out to take pictures of subjects that have already been documented by others. We photographers tought to be used as independent complements to the written report for those people who didn’t experience the incident. Then we are the ultimate tools. Those are moments that are almost impossible to illustrate with words. It is my hope that I can change all this!
It is very important for me to be confident in my “picture language.” However, when you’re limited to working at newspapers or magazines, it can be difficult to expand your development as a photographer. My dream is to have the possibility to allow my “picture language” to develop as an art, not needing to worry whether or not I can sell the pictures in the end just for eurning money.
Unlike many photographers, I have not been to any war torn countries. But I also think it is important to photograph the ordinary, daily life that surrounds us. It is often the most spectacular environments and incidents that get the most attention. It gives me incredible satisfaction to act as an intermediary and transfer the feelings I sense when I capture the meeting of average persons and events. This is not to say that I don’t want to photograph war zones, but more that, I have never had the opportunity. I want to see all, and re-tell all as much as I can before it disappears or changes.
Story: Albino – In the shadow of the sun
In April 2008, two armed men broke in to nine-year-old Manyashi bedroom. They cut off his younger sister's Mariam legs and left her to bleed to death.She became one of nearly 63 albinos in Tanzania who've been killed since January 2008 in a spate of targeted killings.
Already, before the recent wave of murders, they were an exposed and vulnerable group in one of the world's poorest countries. In addition to discrimination, and now murder, the albino population face unique medical issues. Serious eye problems often lead to a lack of education among albino people. They then are frequently forced to take low-wage jobs under the equatorial sun and a lack of knowledge about skin cancer kills many of them.In the midst of tragedy there are also found laughter and a spirit of hope. The albino people in Tanzania are organizing and refusing to let the murderers continue unnoticed. They are demanding action from the government and the government has begun to take notice.
The Albino project started when I began thinking about exclusion in its many different forms: About deviating from society’s norms, being displaced in a society that wants you to be someone different from who you are.
My thoughts crystallized when I was told about a Somalian refugee camp in Svappavarra in northern Sweden, a community where the population is almost entirely white.I started thinking about what it must feel like to be constantly pointed at and stared at, never to blend in, always to be different, regardless of how much you are trying to become part of the local community.
Having read an article about the albino situation in Tanzania, I became aware of a completely new dimension to the concept of exclusion, and it was through this that my idea for the project came about.
How does it feel to be born in a country where your siblings are the norm, and where you get excluded from your own community and society because of your lack of skin pigment? How does it feel to be unable to live and play like your brothers and sisters because you always have to protect yourself from the rays of the African sun? A sun that’s deadly to albinos.
I travelled to Tanzania to document the exposed situation in which many of the country’s albinos live. I wanted to tell the story of their differences and their similarities, as well as of the community support, and care people gave them, despite the colour of their skin.This project has been important for my understanding of the world around me and I hope I have been able to open many other people’s eyes. At the same time, it wasn’t easy to arrive in Tanzania as a white Westerner, trying to document something which I’ve never been a part of and trying to explain how my work could help those who were the subject of my photographs.
I have tried to tell this story in a compelling way, wanting it not simply to arouse compassion in the Western world, but also to be the starting point for some concrete actions in Tanzania
Lens
JOHAN BÄVMAN
生于1982，现居瑞典马尔默。Johan在斯德哥尔摩的BiskopsArne北欧摄影学院完成学业，2004年起成为一名职业摄影师。Johan现为马尔默的《瑞典南方报》工作，此前是自由职业者，从事编辑和广告工作。
白化病 - 太阳之翳
2008年4月，两个手握凶器的家伙闯入Josef的卧室。闯入者砍断了他妹妹Mariam的双腿，致使她流血而死。早在2008年1月，坦桑尼亚的白化病患者就开始大量遇害，就这样，Mariam也加入了这个将近63个被害人的长名单。谋杀热潮前，他们无人保护无处可躲，已是世界上赤贫之国里的弱势群体。而现在，除了饱受歧视和遭受被害，这群白化病人们还面临着特殊的医疗问题。严重的眼部疾病使得大部分白化病患者受教育程度不足，缺乏知识，使他们只能在赤道附近熊熊烈日下从事低收入的工作，而对皮肤癌所知甚少，也往往让他们白白送命。当然，穿透悲剧的迷雾，你总能听见笑声，看到希望。坦桑尼亚的白化病人正在自发组织起来，呼吁社会各界重视谋杀现象，要求政府采取行动，并已经获得政府的重视。
关于白化病这个作品，开始的时候，我思考了“排除”的各种形式：偏离社会常态，或者是被他人取代，因为社会要把你变成某个不同于自己的人。
当我得知瑞典北部斯瓦帕瓦拉的索马里难民营的人几乎全是白的时，我的思路清晰清晰起来。
我想，如果一个人从来无法融入一个群体，他总是和别人不一样，无论他多么努力成为当地社区的一部分，他都总是被人当眼中钉、被人们指指点点，那会是什么感觉。
读了一篇关于坦桑尼亚白化病的文章，我意识到了关于“排除”这一概念的全新维度，正是从这里我的想法产生了。如果你生在一个兄弟姐妹都正常的国家，而你自己却因为缺少皮肤色素而被社区排除在外，你会有什么感觉？就因为你要一直保护自己，防止曝露在对白化病致命的非洲烈日的射线之下，而不能像兄弟姐妹那样生活玩耍时，你会有什么感觉？
我来到坦桑尼亚，在很多白化病人居住的地区记录被暴露出的情况。我要讲述他们的故事，他们的相同与不同，以及为了破除肤色的偏见，社区所给予的支持与关爱。这个项目对我了解周围世界很重要，我希望自己也能以此打开其他人的视野。而且，作为一个西方白种人，要去坦桑尼亚，还要记录一个我从未参与的世界，并解释我的作品如何能帮助那些拍摄对象，这并非易事。我试图把故事讲得引人入胜，不仅仅希望它能激起西方人的同情心，更希望能以此为一个新的起点，鼓励坦桑尼亚方面实施具体行动。
JOHAN BÄVMAN
My name is Johan Bävman. I am 27 years of age and live in Malmö in the south of Sweden.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved photography and was essentially self-taught. My interest continued and I was accepted as a photography student at Östra Grevie Folkhögskola. It was there that I had an opportunity to explore the different genres within the field, ranging from fashion to art. I finally realized that it was documentary photography that I had a burning desire to explore.
After my year at Östra Grevie, I was accepted to the highly acclaimed “Nordens Fotoskola” (The Nordic School of Photography”) on Biskops-Arnö Island, outside of Stockholm. During two intensive years, I broke my own barriers as far as how I believed the documentary photo should look. While being exposed to situations and meetings with the camera as a companion, I understood quickly how much joy it gave me to be a documentary photographer. I enjoy being enriched and learning by involvement in the surroundings. It’s more meaningful to me than reading about a subject and being far removed from the action. This is something I will never get enough of.
After graduating I was fortunate to be hired by one of Sweden’s largest evening newspapers and subsequently by one of the largest morning papers. The choice to become a photographer felt totally and completely right. I was honored to get a chance to share touching and moving stories through photos with a broad audience.
Unfortunately there are days that make me less happy. I am thinking of the days when you as a newspaper photographer are sent out to take pictures of subjects that have already been documented by others. We photographers tought to be used as independent complements to the written report for those people who didn’t experience the incident. Then we are the ultimate tools. Those are moments that are almost impossible to illustrate with words. It is my hope that I can change all this!
It is very important for me to be confident in my “picture language.” However, when you’re limited to working at newspapers or magazines, it can be difficult to expand your development as a photographer. My dream is to have the possibility to allow my “picture language” to develop as an art, not needing to worry whether or not I can sell the pictures in the end just for eurning money.
Unlike many photographers, I have not been to any war torn countries. But I also think it is important to photograph the ordinary, daily life that surrounds us. It is often the most spectacular environments and incidents that get the most attention. It gives me incredible satisfaction to act as an intermediary and transfer the feelings I sense when I capture the meeting of average persons and events. This is not to say that I don’t want to photograph war zones, but more that, I have never had the opportunity. I want to see all, and re-tell all as much as I can before it disappears or changes.
Story: Albino – In the shadow of the sun
In April 2008, two armed men broke in to nine-year-old Manyashi bedroom. They cut off his younger sister's Mariam legs and left her to bleed to death.She became one of nearly 63 albinos in Tanzania who've been killed since January 2008 in a spate of targeted killings.
Already, before the recent wave of murders, they were an exposed and vulnerable group in one of the world's poorest countries. In addition to discrimination, and now murder, the albino population face unique medical issues. Serious eye problems often lead to a lack of education among albino people. They then are frequently forced to take low-wage jobs under the equatorial sun and a lack of knowledge about skin cancer kills many of them.In the midst of tragedy there are also found laughter and a spirit of hope. The albino people in Tanzania are organizing and refusing to let the murderers continue unnoticed. They are demanding action from the government and the government has begun to take notice.
The Albino project started when I began thinking about exclusion in its many different forms: About deviating from society’s norms, being displaced in a society that wants you to be someone different from who you are.
My thoughts crystallized when I was told about a Somalian refugee camp in Svappavarra in northern Sweden, a community where the population is almost entirely white.I started thinking about what it must feel like to be constantly pointed at and stared at, never to blend in, always to be different, regardless of how much you are trying to become part of the local community.
Having read an article about the albino situation in Tanzania, I became aware of a completely new dimension to the concept of exclusion, and it was through this that my idea for the project came about.
How does it feel to be born in a country where your siblings are the norm, and where you get excluded from your own community and society because of your lack of skin pigment? How does it feel to be unable to live and play like your brothers and sisters because you always have to protect yourself from the rays of the African sun? A sun that’s deadly to albinos.
I travelled to Tanzania to document the exposed situation in which many of the country’s albinos live. I wanted to tell the story of their differences and their similarities, as well as of the community support, and care people gave them, despite the colour of their skin.This project has been important for my understanding of the world around me and I hope I have been able to open many other people’s eyes. At the same time, it wasn’t easy to arrive in Tanzania as a white Westerner, trying to document something which I’ve never been a part of and trying to explain how my work could help those who were the subject of my photographs.
I have tried to tell this story in a compelling way, wanting it not simply to arouse compassion in the Western world, but also to be the starting point for some concrete actions in Tanzania
耿悦，你还没睡？~~
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