‘This is one from the archives, taken in the summer of 1999. It is not necessarily my favorite photograph, but it took me about a year to make. It is part of a series about a man from my area, Cor van der Hagt from Winssen.
I had known for some time that this man lived there as a hermit in a dilapidated farmhouse and was virtually unapproachable. I often drove past, hoping to see him outside and speak to him. Sometimes I saw him, but as soon as he noticed my car stopping, he disappeared from view again.
Eventually, I managed to speak to him while he was walking in his field. Without a camera, I showed interest in his scythe and his skillful way of working. I kept driving past, occasionally getting out when I saw him for a brief conversation across the ditch. Only after several months did I dare ask whether I could photograph him while he worked. He agreed, and, to make a long story short, one thing led to another.
We formed a bond, and I achieved what nobody else had managed: getting inside his home. We talked about his life and, above all, his way of living. Time had made the inside of his house pitch-black. Small framed pictures hung on the wall, recognizable only by their relief. He had no running water and washed once a week at his well. He had no television either because there was no electricity. A battery-powered radio provided entertainment.
‘Farmhouse’ was a generous description, because he had no animals, only a few very old fruit trees. He almost never left his property. He had lived in that place his entire life and, after his mother died, lived there alone. He treasured his memorial cards and read the regional newspaper thoroughly. In this way, he formed his own worldview in which nothing was any good. In the end, he was always pleased when I visited, and I even brought my young daughter; his eyes lit up. He also allowed a reporter from De Volkskrant to visit, resulting in a fine full-page story. He was proud of it.
It brought some color to the end of his life, as he has since passed away. I chose this photograph from the series because it shows the passage of time through a pair of wooden clogs and old fruit trees that bore hardly any pears. It was a time in which nothing ever changed because every day was the same.’
Name: Marcel van den Bergh (1967)
Location: Altforst
Info: www.marcelvandenbergh.com
text and photo: Marcel van den Bergh
