Photobook Reviews, Episode 12 – by Kate Schultze
People often speak about authenticity when they speak about photography. Proximity is something seen as honorable, something photography is aiming to achieve. Disko Bay’s new book “Frida Forever” makes me cautious of every page I’m about to turn. I haven’t been as alert and aware as this, whilst looking at a book, in a long time.
After looking at Charlie Engman’s “MOM” lets turn to another narrative centered around one person. “Frida Forever” by Frida Lisa Carstensen Jersø is a powerful project blending self-portraiture, staged scenes, and candid images to explore life with chronic illness alongside the freedom of youth. After a life-altering accident in 2012 left her paraplegic, followed by a rare cellular condition, Frida spent much of her adult life in hospitals, documenting her experience through photography. The book reflects on vulnerability, strength, and identity, portraying the dual reality of being young and seriously ill.
Looking at the book you often feel disoriented. Out of focus close ups are juxtaposed with warm and calm portraits. Y2K aesthetics of the harsh flash and glossy paper forces you to look at the gore: wounds, blood and scars. And then there’s the bag – its repetition guiding you through the book. The purple faux leather and silver details taken up on the cover design. So is the book’s unusual heavy weight, reflecting both the actual stuffed bag but also the emotional heft you’re about to encounter looking at the project. With an intimate, raw style, Frida turns the camera on herself to reclaim her body as both subject and landscape and simultaneously making us aware that looking at illness is still incredibly difficult, even in a world that’s trying so hard to desensitise us. “Frida Forever” challenges perceptions of illness, ableism, and the body.
All in all this is one of the most important new releases for me this year. And if you’re as excited as I am about the return of coming of age stories then another one you might wanna look at is Charlie Tallot’s “At Least Until The World Stops Going Round“.
