‘A sad thing it was, no doubt, very sad;
but we can’t mend it. Therefore let us make the
best of a bad matter; and as it is impossible
to hammer anything out of it for moral purposes,
let us treat it aesthetically, and see if it will
turn to account in that way.’
Thomas De Quincey,
On Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts
A man lies prone under the harsh light of the morning sun, his restless dreams punctuated by flashes from a life spent searching for incriminating evidence. He was part of a crime scene investigation team in London, driving his white van from one bloody scene to the next. While he drifts in and out of consciousness, the past and present merge and conflate, making him question his version of reality.
Research reveals a not too distant tragedy. On the 30th July 2002, best friends, William Kadema and Gameli Akuklu were found unconscious at the bottom of a Police College swimming pool. They both later died. Making this particularly tragic is the inherent trust placed by society in the institution.
The subsequent photographs oscillate restlessly back and forth between the Crime Academy, whose primary function is to teach crime-scene investigation and a public realm where crime is usually said to ‘happen’. In this search for meaning the only constant is shifting realities found in suburban scenes of bay-windowed houses and bedecked shopping malls.
Reflecting on the role of the forensic photographer and the dilution of memory caused by repeated viewings of the aftermath of tragic events, the pictures re-visit certain unremarkable sites over a period of months searching for clues while also being attuned to processes of man-made and natural change, renewal and the function of the built environment as a ‘key’ to memory.
At the same time, bulldozers and jack-hammers echo the grief felt by bereaved families. As the pool building is levelled and the old crime academy is emptied, so disappears the last physical remains of a site of tragedy. Distant thoughts linger on the edge of consciousness, relegated to a footnote in the timeline of life.
©djnorwood 2019
but we can’t mend it. Therefore let us make the
best of a bad matter; and as it is impossible
to hammer anything out of it for moral purposes,
let us treat it aesthetically, and see if it will
turn to account in that way.’
Thomas De Quincey,
On Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts
A man lies prone under the harsh light of the morning sun, his restless dreams punctuated by flashes from a life spent searching for incriminating evidence. He was part of a crime scene investigation team in London, driving his white van from one bloody scene to the next. While he drifts in and out of consciousness, the past and present merge and conflate, making him question his version of reality.
Research reveals a not too distant tragedy. On the 30th July 2002, best friends, William Kadema and Gameli Akuklu were found unconscious at the bottom of a Police College swimming pool. They both later died. Making this particularly tragic is the inherent trust placed by society in the institution.
The subsequent photographs oscillate restlessly back and forth between the Crime Academy, whose primary function is to teach crime-scene investigation and a public realm where crime is usually said to ‘happen’. In this search for meaning the only constant is shifting realities found in suburban scenes of bay-windowed houses and bedecked shopping malls.
Reflecting on the role of the forensic photographer and the dilution of memory caused by repeated viewings of the aftermath of tragic events, the pictures re-visit certain unremarkable sites over a period of months searching for clues while also being attuned to processes of man-made and natural change, renewal and the function of the built environment as a ‘key’ to memory.
At the same time, bulldozers and jack-hammers echo the grief felt by bereaved families. As the pool building is levelled and the old crime academy is emptied, so disappears the last physical remains of a site of tragedy. Distant thoughts linger on the edge of consciousness, relegated to a footnote in the timeline of life.
©djnorwood 2019