This note is essentially a condensation of an email received from Hakan Gottberger a Swedish photographer, who had spent 6 months in Biafra between 1968-1969 - not as a photographer, but as a volunteer with the Red Cross. He was however able to document some of the work of the Red Cross in Biafra and by his own account spent time behond the lines in such theatres as Item, Olona and eventually at Uli, where he participated in the night movements of relief materials into Biafra- hazardous work as we now know. I was introduced to Hakan by an old-school mate and friend- Ebele Obumselu, also a Historian in his own right.
Hakan set up a photographic museum chronicling his works in general and the images he captured during the Biafran war. His mission and the motivation of Ebele Obumselu and myself in publicising this obeing not to inflame sentiment and arouse emotions, but to give spotlight to an incredible body of work that has not achieved wide exposure and has not been published in any of the popular photographic works of the Nigerian Civil War we are familiar with. These photographs are the creation and private property of Hakan Gottberger done with his own hand and skill and whatever your position on either side of the divide, they should be appreciated for what they are, another original chronicle of a watershed in Nigerian History.
Hakan set up a photographic museum chronicling his works in general and the images he captured during the Biafran war. His mission and the motivation of Ebele Obumselu and myself in publicising this obeing not to inflame sentiment and arouse emotions, but to give spotlight to an incredible body of work that has not achieved wide exposure and has not been published in any of the popular photographic works of the Nigerian Civil War we are familiar with. These photographs are the creation and private property of Hakan Gottberger done with his own hand and skill and whatever your position on either side of the divide, they should be appreciated for what they are, another original chronicle of a watershed in Nigerian History.
I have reproduced his note here after the photographs, with minimal editing, however the story is told more comprehensively by his excellent photographs, which are published above the text of his note . Thanks very much Ebele and Hakan
Note- This photographs are not to be copied or reproduced without the permission of Hakan Gottberg.
My name is Håkan Gottberger and was invited to the group by my friend Ebele Obumselu. I met him through a mutual friend, Obi C Agora in conjunction with my exhibition Two x Africa, where I showed my pictures from Biafra 1968-69, at an exhibition together with pictures from Kenya 2007th
It was my first show in more than 40 years, I am a photographer by profession but experiences in Biafra gave me a different outlook on life. Ebele has expressed himself as so "Your pictures are amazing. Coming from eastern Nigeria myself, I have a special interest in the Biafran Catalogue and think you capture Human Suffering and Strife in a very Immediate and human way. I Hope That more People who live in what was Biafra - Eastern Nigeria - get to see your photographs. They are a powerful, compelling and personnel record of the Biafran war, Which sometime devastated Many Lives. "
I attended the Swedish Red Cross Biafra team for about six months 1968-69 as a volunteer, not a photographer, but I offered to document the work of the Red Cross, for I had the resources in Stockholm who could take care of the rolls I sent home with returned air and thus provide the RC images for information.
My niece, who is a renowned painter, wanted to write something personal about me on my catalogue, when I consulted her about how to do an exhibition.She is the one that best describes me:
Note- This photographs are not to be copied or reproduced without the permission of Hakan Gottberg.
My name is Håkan Gottberger and was invited to the group by my friend Ebele Obumselu. I met him through a mutual friend, Obi C Agora in conjunction with my exhibition Two x Africa, where I showed my pictures from Biafra 1968-69, at an exhibition together with pictures from Kenya 2007th
It was my first show in more than 40 years, I am a photographer by profession but experiences in Biafra gave me a different outlook on life. Ebele has expressed himself as so "Your pictures are amazing. Coming from eastern Nigeria myself, I have a special interest in the Biafran Catalogue and think you capture Human Suffering and Strife in a very Immediate and human way. I Hope That more People who live in what was Biafra - Eastern Nigeria - get to see your photographs. They are a powerful, compelling and personnel record of the Biafran war, Which sometime devastated Many Lives. "
I attended the Swedish Red Cross Biafra team for about six months 1968-69 as a volunteer, not a photographer, but I offered to document the work of the Red Cross, for I had the resources in Stockholm who could take care of the rolls I sent home with returned air and thus provide the RC images for information.
My niece, who is a renowned painter, wanted to write something personal about me on my catalogue, when I consulted her about how to do an exhibition.She is the one that best describes me:
”My uncle Hakan ....It has always been a magical glow over my uncle Hakan. When I was little, he lived far away in Malung, north of Sweden and I met him and my cousins a few times a year. I had several uncles, but none as Hakan, with the noisy laughter and the sad eyes.
I always knew that Hakan was a photographer. He was a photographer, but without a camera. I can not remember during my childhood saw him take a single picture. There he must have done, but there's nothing I can remember. There were pictures taken Hakan. Pictures that swept into my mother's story of a movie star light. A black and white photo of my mother in profile with a blank page so that you felt every hair, where the mother is present, but completely inaccessible. My parents' wedding photo. A Dalmatian in the snow. Images that I illustrated for my parents 60. All photos taken with the same attention, focus and clear contrasts. It's Hakan look that says.
My grandmother had on the wall of her bedroom a picture or a photo that Hakan taken. It was a remarkable image, an abstract photo. A black vastness that was marred by a jumble of white and red light dots and lines.How can one photograph the abstract? I never understood the image as a child. It showed nothing. My grandmother loved the photo. She told me repeatedly about how Hakan won first prize with it and how it had to grace the cover of the Philips Annual Report 1966th I have not seen that image in more than 20 years, but when I called Hakan and asked him about it as I remembered it perfectly. What image is that can burn itself into memory like that.
Hakan's life became a part of our family's history. A story as a child I never heard from beginning to end and had served in fragments. The story of how he, after his return from Biafra, left a promising career as a photographer and moved to the forest in Dalarna. He acquired sheep and began working with handicapped children. My grandmother never stopped to talk about what a great photographer Hakan was. It was reported about the images from Biafra. That they demonstrated in newspapers in Sweden and how strong they were.They had an almost mythical dimensions. The first and only time I saw the pictures was on a visit in Malung.I must have been around 14 years. There were large black and white images in a black portfolio folder.Mostly I remember the eyes, I found it hard to believe that it was true and that Hakan really have been there. It was great.
When I today see them again, I recognize the feeling of unreality, but now I see also the joy of life in several images. I see the lovely people behind the famine. There are amazing pictures. Hakan has managed to capture these individuals in their misery, and every boy, girl, man and woman becomes a living human being, a destiny. While the photographs are not afraid of the horror, hunger, death, violence. To Hakan not traveled there as a photographer but as aid workers for the Red Cross affect images. He was not there to observe and record, he was there to help and alleviate suffering. He became part of these people's lives and so he came close in his portraits. He documented not an emergency, he portrayed it.
One can understand that it was difficult for Hakan to get back to everyday life in Sweden and use the camera as a tool for advertising and stylish portraits again. It must have rung empty.
When Hakan again took up the camera scarce forty years later and traveled to Africa again, it feels like the end of a mourning process. Image Series at a wedding in the Masai are so full of exuberance, color and beauty. What unites the two image series in the exhibition is partly Hakan interest for the individual but also his sharp gaze that strips away all unnecessary in the composition, until only the essence remains.
The joy of life following Hakan wherever he goes. No one can laugh as Hakan. Those who once heard, or should I say experienced Hakan laughter know what I'm talking about. Hakan's laughter can overturn a house.It fired a bolt at 100 meters, completely without warning and all that is within audible distance shaken.
I think that there is a balance in life. If you place Hakan laughter on one side of a scale and Biafra, the images on the other, we will find Hakan there in the middle, balancing as all of us but with a greater burden and more light than most of us. The gap between then and now, it is essential. It is in the gap I read of a life story. Not Africas, but Hakans.
Astrid Sylwan Stockholm, March 2010"
I always knew that Hakan was a photographer. He was a photographer, but without a camera. I can not remember during my childhood saw him take a single picture. There he must have done, but there's nothing I can remember. There were pictures taken Hakan. Pictures that swept into my mother's story of a movie star light. A black and white photo of my mother in profile with a blank page so that you felt every hair, where the mother is present, but completely inaccessible. My parents' wedding photo. A Dalmatian in the snow. Images that I illustrated for my parents 60. All photos taken with the same attention, focus and clear contrasts. It's Hakan look that says.
My grandmother had on the wall of her bedroom a picture or a photo that Hakan taken. It was a remarkable image, an abstract photo. A black vastness that was marred by a jumble of white and red light dots and lines.How can one photograph the abstract? I never understood the image as a child. It showed nothing. My grandmother loved the photo. She told me repeatedly about how Hakan won first prize with it and how it had to grace the cover of the Philips Annual Report 1966th I have not seen that image in more than 20 years, but when I called Hakan and asked him about it as I remembered it perfectly. What image is that can burn itself into memory like that.
Hakan's life became a part of our family's history. A story as a child I never heard from beginning to end and had served in fragments. The story of how he, after his return from Biafra, left a promising career as a photographer and moved to the forest in Dalarna. He acquired sheep and began working with handicapped children. My grandmother never stopped to talk about what a great photographer Hakan was. It was reported about the images from Biafra. That they demonstrated in newspapers in Sweden and how strong they were.They had an almost mythical dimensions. The first and only time I saw the pictures was on a visit in Malung.I must have been around 14 years. There were large black and white images in a black portfolio folder.Mostly I remember the eyes, I found it hard to believe that it was true and that Hakan really have been there. It was great.
When I today see them again, I recognize the feeling of unreality, but now I see also the joy of life in several images. I see the lovely people behind the famine. There are amazing pictures. Hakan has managed to capture these individuals in their misery, and every boy, girl, man and woman becomes a living human being, a destiny. While the photographs are not afraid of the horror, hunger, death, violence. To Hakan not traveled there as a photographer but as aid workers for the Red Cross affect images. He was not there to observe and record, he was there to help and alleviate suffering. He became part of these people's lives and so he came close in his portraits. He documented not an emergency, he portrayed it.
One can understand that it was difficult for Hakan to get back to everyday life in Sweden and use the camera as a tool for advertising and stylish portraits again. It must have rung empty.
When Hakan again took up the camera scarce forty years later and traveled to Africa again, it feels like the end of a mourning process. Image Series at a wedding in the Masai are so full of exuberance, color and beauty. What unites the two image series in the exhibition is partly Hakan interest for the individual but also his sharp gaze that strips away all unnecessary in the composition, until only the essence remains.
The joy of life following Hakan wherever he goes. No one can laugh as Hakan. Those who once heard, or should I say experienced Hakan laughter know what I'm talking about. Hakan's laughter can overturn a house.It fired a bolt at 100 meters, completely without warning and all that is within audible distance shaken.
I think that there is a balance in life. If you place Hakan laughter on one side of a scale and Biafra, the images on the other, we will find Hakan there in the middle, balancing as all of us but with a greater burden and more light than most of us. The gap between then and now, it is essential. It is in the gap I read of a life story. Not Africas, but Hakans.
Astrid Sylwan Stockholm, March 2010"
I hope you find this of interest for your group.
Yours sincerely,
Hakan Gottberger"
Thanks for posting the photos. My mom was a child in Lagos during the war, far away from any conflict zone. She remembers the news reports and daily street rumors and intense fear about the war vividly. She gave me a good understanding of the historical/social context of the war, but I couldn't have imagined pictures like these.
ReplyDeleteThanks Lanre, its just so important for us to remember the consequences of war on ordinary people and to remember why it should be avoided if possible. Thanks for reading.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. I love it. I was not born during the war, I am a late 90s kid, but my parents witnessed the war, my mom and dad. My mom will tell me that she walked with her parents from Umuahia to their village in Imo and at the border of Imo and Um, the bridge there was destroyed so they would enter the river there and climb back up to the other side. Thank you for this, I don't know if you have more of them, I'm always interested in things like this. Thank you and your friend. You can reach me on anabaraonyekelechi@gmail.com
ReplyDeleteHi,
ReplyDeleteI have saved this article so I could come back in the future and go through it once more. It is very intriguing, well-researched and also composed. I almost never observe marvelous content these days.
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Have a nice day...!!