
"Languages are limited: words are limited, visuals are limited. In the [photo] book, when I hit a border, I switch languages" - That's Sina Niemeyer, Berlin-based activist, artist and photojournalist.
Sina's talk 'Between Activism, Art and Journalism – Where do you draw the line and how do you find and justify your stance?' was among Phase Two events of the recently held fourth edition of the Chennai Photo Biennale conducted at the Goethe-Institut.
During the talk, she shared with the audience her photo book titled 'You Taught Me How to Be a Butterfly Only So You Could Break My Wings'. It was deeply personal.
The screen was flooded with white, featuring the title – handwritten and digitised – in the top-right corner. It had remained so since the start of the talk, slowly fading into the walls, but as the lights in the room dimmed, the audience's focus shifted back to the screen.
A series of photographs following Sina from childhood to early adulthood were interspersed with handwritten notes and mutilated pictures of an anonymous man.
As the series progressed, the audience could recognise remnants of anger and betrayal in that specific shade of red, the scars left behind by blade on paper, the curious question marks with blotted dots and the smiles turned away from the camera. The man's identity became clear: a predator, an abuser, a familiar face.
Sina did not have to say much; whatever she had wanted to say was conveyed.
The photo book was an attempt to process the trauma of being sexually abused as a child by a close acquaintance of the artist’s family, Sina said.
Sina then played a seven-minute-long video titled 'Goodbye'. The visuals were disorienting and unsettling. The audio used against this was a recording of the artist confronting her abuser.
"I'm used to feeling sad when I look at old images. But actually now, I feel nothing. No liking, no hating, no sorrow, no fear. Not even pity. Just nothing.
"I would have never thought that it's possible to unknow someone. But I guess, this is it. I don’t know you anymore. And I don’t care."
Sina sat to the left of the stage, sipping tea. She watched the video, unfazed as the screen faded to black.
The video was a suggestion made by a therapist during a festival on Phototherapy and Therapeutic Photography, she later said.
"I felt pictures and words were not enough; I wanted to draw, but I'm not good at it. The video was a more suitable medium," she added.
The process of putting together the visuals was cathartic, Sina went on to say.
"Für Mich—A Way of Reconciliation, the title of Sina's project comprising the photo book and the video, offers insight into the inner life of a 'survivor' of sexual violence," read the project description on her website.
"It was all about me regaining control," she said.
"But I didn't want to be remembered as the photographer who was sexually abused as a child," she added.
Sina has since worked with women in professions that treat them as alien, women who have experienced loss due to femicide, World War II witnesses processing their trauma at last, and those who have reconciled with their conflicting identities.
Her work deals with deeply personal themes, navigating through feelings of anger, grief, pain and nostalgia. Visually portraying unspoken individual experiences, her work points towards an overarching systemic flaw.
The Many Wives Of Mr. _ is one such project based on a box of over 400 letters from Philippine women to a Berlin bachelor.
The project looks at marriage as a transaction, with each party offering something the other desperately seeks. The project features pictures of the letters, portraits of couples who met through similar services and photographs of mundane objects from the lives of Filipinas.
On the screen was a notice published by a company 'advertising' the Filipinas as an object of desire, ready to be 'owned'; the Managing Directress writes:
"Tradition and culture trained her to be a step behind, a rung lower and always subservient to her husband's wishes... Only one captain rocks the boat... Equality among western men and women is one of the factors that has wrecked marriages."
The project deals with more pressing matters shaped by gender, economic and racial inequalities leading to a marriage-of-sorts between a German or US-American male and a Philippine female: commercialisation of love and labour migration.
The photo series featured pictures of Philippine women with their western husbands and their young children, pictures of their homes, crumpled bedsheets and floral curtains.
In one, a woman has her arms around her soon-to-be-husband's shoulders, her head tilted back in laughter. In another, a woman is seated on the edge of a bed and her husband on a chair next to the bed, holding each other's hands; the man turns to look at his soon-to-be-wife's face, the woman looks elsewhere.
Between art, activism and journalism
Sina acknowledged that when it came to creative projects based on the experiences of vulnerable people, she is in a position of power, able to manipulate the narratives presented to her.
"Who can speak for whom? I used to believe only the affected should, but now that I realise how tiring it can be to talk about one's own experiences, I believe more allies should speak up," she said.
"However, with regards to a delicate project such as The Many Wives Of Mr. _, I must be prepared to take accountability," she added.
Words are powerful; by removing context and adding false quotes, the story is transformed into something beyond one's control, she observed.
Having worked with sensitive themes and diverse individuals, Sina also noted that the most challenging task when it comes to balancing the perspectives of the photographer and the subject of photography, is to know when to let go of creative compulsions.
"A lot of times it doesn't work the way I want it, because it's my artistic ideas but the people I'm working with are their own people," she said.