Kai Fagerström - Photographer

The House in the Woods

I've looked at animals being photographed in the wild by Nick Brandt and Steve Bloom, and in captivity by Britta Jaschinski. Now I want to compare my findings to wild animals in an urban landscape, opposed to the beautiful settings of Africa and gloomy corners of the zoo.

Kai Fagerström is a Finnish documentary photographer. His photographic series, “The House in the Woods”, documents the inhibitants of an old, crumbling and deserted house in the woods, near Salo, Finland. The isolated house is probably at least 200 years old, with its last dwellers moving out more than 30 years ago. Who were the last inhabitants and where are they now? “It's as though time stood still.” They left behind many of their previous belongings, old-fashioned lampshades, tables and chairs, lying dust covered on the floorboards. The house has weathered over time, taken over by the wood, the wind freely blowing its leaves around the kitchen and the rain never fails to drip through the holes in the roof. The cracked peeling walls, creaking floorboards, and dirty smashed windows seem to have their own life, turning the house into a reflection of the wild woods outside.

However the house is not as concealed as you may think, for when dusk falls on the gloomy stone walls, life suddenly takes over. The various creatures in the woods make their way back home. The raccoon family has their own private entrance to the house, the fireplace. Red squirrels busy themselves in their nests in the kitchen and badgers shuffle around under the floorboards. The house offers them shelter from the harsh winter winds, a safe place from the watchful eyes of the ever-hungry birds of prey. This house is their home.

Fagerström spent a lot of time at the house, once daylight has slipped away. He patiently waited for the animals to appear, wanting to photograph their goings-on and everyday activities. He says that at night, “the light can be beautiful.” The creatures that inhabit the house stop by the same time every evening, though some are more photo-shy than others. The owl seemed to know his way round the house, as if he'd lived there previously, now become more of a passing visitor; “It wasn't too shy, so photographing it was quite easy." He lured the animals into particular positions, tempting them with nuts and food, so he can get his ideal compositions.

I love the atmosphere of Fagerström’s photographs. The house seems beautifully quiet and peaceful, with the yellow light bouncing off the walls, giving a sense of safety and security. Like the other photographers, Fagerström humanises the animals, however in a completely different way. Rather than trying to show their expressions of pains, sorrows or empowerment, through portrait-like photography, Fagerström focuses on the documentary side, looking at their home life and behaviour.  The animals look content in this man-made environment, as though it is of their own making. This makes me relate to my every day routines at home; the image of the red squirrel peering out of the window looks as though he's waiting for a friend to arrive for lunch. 

The dark lighting in the images is perfect, it doesn't expose or illuminate the animals too much, creating a sense of mystery and anticipation. Fagerström respects their space and is very much an onlooker on the scene, rather than an intruder. The creatures seem very content with their secret hideaway. Although they are living in the ruins of an old human dwelling, let's just hope that Fagerström is the only person to discover their hidden home.