He was in an unusual position, he owned a small brownstone-like apartment building in Mid-Manhattan and had become a hoarder since his divorce some years earlier.
He remained actively engaged as a real estate agent, though..
I was working for him very cheaply, and so I guess he figured I couldn't be bothered to worry about so I was in his apartment on a number of occasions.
The effect was incredible. Of what was a three bedroom apartment with a living room and dining room, only the dining room and kitchen were like a normal space, and the dining room had a bed in it and his work station as well as piles of papers.
I won't begin to catalog the kinds of objects he had hoarded--these photos do that better than I could.
The Homes of Hoarders
When photographer Paula Salischiker
saw an American TV series about extreme hoarders, she felt
instinctively that the way they were being portrayed wasn’t fair. “They
are usually shown under a very obscure light, like objects themselves,”
Salischiker said via email. “I somehow felt there was something else
beyond these stories of horror portrayed with the question of, ‘How can
anyone live like that?’ in mind.”
In the 2½ years since she started her series, “The Art of Keeping,”
Salischiker has been invited to photograph six homes in London and Essex
after attending a self-help group for hoarders and posting an ad on a
website dealing with hoarding habits. “The process of finally visiting
their homes was difficult, as they accepted with a lot of energy and
then became a bit worried about my possible presence there,” Salischiker
said. “For a hoarder, sharing their space can be a menace. Many of them
also suffer from other mental health conditions, so letting someone
into their homes is something they might have not done for years. I felt
privileged to enter their lives and welcomed at their homes, despite
the clutter.”
Originally, Salischiker wanted to take portraits of the hoarders in
their homes. But although her subjects recognized themselves as
hoarders, their families, friends, or colleagues often didn’t know about
their condition. Anonymity, therefore, became essential, and
Salischiker’s photographs came to mostly focus on the clutter rather
than the hoarders themselves. “I also realized their objects constituted
them, formed their identities, and were themselves in a way. Showing
the objects they felt close to, depicting this bond with the material
world around them might portray them better than if I showed their
faces,” Salischiker said.
Talking with her subjects helped Salischiker learn more about the
suffering involved with having their condition. “Hoarding takes a lot of
energy and time from the people who suffer it, and it is tiring both
mentally and physically. There is the constant moving of items, carrying
them, worrying about them. There are also health hazards: The gases
emanated by accumulated garbage are toxic and can cause fires. It is not
a mental illness that never materializes: They face constantly the
challenge of being surrounded by that which constitutes their main
problem.”
For Salischiker, photographing in severely cluttered spaces, in which
the smallest item can hold great significance, was a challenge. “I felt
worried I would break something really important for them, or step on a
precious, irreplaceable item,” Salischiker said. “Nothing is a detail
for a hoarder, and that is the main thing with this condition: They
cannot distinguish and establish the importance of the objects around
them. Any sort of hierarchy is lost. I took very little equipment with
me to their home. I wanted to interfere as little as possible with the
space.”
Salischiker’s series is ongoing, and she plans to photograph hoarders
in Uruguay next. “The very fact that the project can be continued in
South America proves that the condition is not only related to the
wealth of a country or consumerism. Hoarding is … more common than we
think,” she said.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please leave a comment-- or suggestions, particularly of topics and places you'd like to see covered