THE ROOTLESS – BETTINA_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

BETTINA BORREGAARD | 1980

The last 13 years of my life I have spent just trying to survive. I’m currently staying at my ex-boyfriend’s place in Kalundborg, because I was evicted from the subsidised housing I was borrowing from a friend. I still get my methadone, drink vodka and shoot up on the methadone once a week. That calms me down.

I don’t feel so good. The past few years have made me a lot older than I actually am. I’m 42 now, and I feel tired, and I have little scars on my arms and legs, so I never wear shorts. The only place I can shoot up now is the root of my thumb. My teeth aren’t doing too great either, I’m missing all the ones in my upper jaw. My ex-boyfriend who passed away a year ago beat me up and broke my ribs, and because of this I’ve been hospitalised several times. That’s why I don’t walk so well these days. I was with him at the hospital until the end.

I dream of getting housing, so I can stabilise myself and take better care of my cat. It’s black and called Kinte – like Kunta Kinte from Roots, which was my mother’s favourite TV-show. I’m going to try and go to the council. They must be able to help me somehow.

ROOTLESS_ll_Betina_01_05-07-2021_b_1

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – JOHNNY_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

JOHNNY DAM GRAM | 1968

Six years ago I met my wife who I live with today in a flat in Varde near her daughter’s foster family. We have visitation rights every third week. I’m still in replacement therapy and haven’t been using in the past eight years. After Bettina and I split up, I was alone with my dog for a while, found a bit of peace and started working as a carpenter. Today I’m 53 and work as a gardener.

I smile to myself every morning, because now I have a bonus daughter! That’s the greatest thing that has happened to me. Getting away from my former environment has matured me. Now I’m 12 kilos heavier and weigh nearly 70 kilos. It has given me a lot of strength, self-confidence and zest for life.

My life on the street hasn’t left any psychological scars, but I have no veins left because I used to shoot up all the time, and now I have an upper dental plate and just a few stumps left in my lower jaw. I think a lot about my diet, I work out and regularly go to see my doctor, who tells me that I’m one of the healthiest seniors he has ever seen. I dream of getting a lorry driving license because I love driving. And then I just want to enjoy our child now that she is here, and then I care a lot about our dogs.

ROOTLESS_ll_johnny_01_29-06-2021_c_1

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – JOHNNY-BETTINA_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

JOHNNY DAM GRAM AND BETTINA BORREGAARD | 1968 and 1980

Johnny Dam Gram, 40, grew up in Tåstrup spent the first ten years of his life living with his single, alcoholic mother. The problems at home became so serious that he ran away when he was 15 and lived on the street for two years.

He started smoking weed and taking hard drugs, and he went to prison several times for theft. When Johnny entered a methadone treatment program, he met his girlfriend Bettina and worked various minor jobs.

Bettina Borregaard, 28, grew up in Copenhagen. She had a good upbringing, but she was tired of school and bored and soon began smoking weed. Later, she was introduced to heroin and became addicted.

She lived a turbulent life, but when she was 25, she decided to stop and get help. She met Johnny in a substance abuse centre and the two of them were together in 2008.

ROOTLESS_ll_1316_1

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – PALLE_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

PALLE LARSEN | 1959-2009

Palle Larsen was born and raised in Copenhagen. When he was 14 years old, Palle’s parents got divorced. He refused to side with either of his parents, so instead he left home and went to live with friends and in shelters.

Palle became a radio mechanic and sailed with the EAC. In 2000, he served a prison sentence, and after he was released, he lived on the street for six and a half years.

He was an alcoholic, and although he was assigned subsidised housing in Valby, he often returned to the street, where he spent the nights.

Palle died at 50 after many years of drug abuse.

ROOTLESS_ll_Palle_opløst_01_06-07-2021

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – LILLIAN_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

LILLIAN THELIN

Lillian Thelin grew up on Amager with her parents. When her mother died, her father was not capable of taking care of the children, so she and her sisters went to stay in a boarding house for a few years.

Later she met a man from Greenland with whom she had a daughter. Due to drinking, rows and noise in their home, their daughter was removed after one and a half month.

Lillian and her husband were evicted from their flat around the same time and were living on the street in 2008.

Lillian died at 47, the cause of death unknown.

ROOTLESS_ll_Lilian_opløst-01_06-07-2021

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – KURT_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

KURT HOLM CHRISTENSEN | 1946-2008

Kurt Holm Christensen lived in Copenhagen his whole life. For many years, he worked as a lorry driver and at Carlsberg. He had a wife and three children, but after 18 years of marriage, he got divorced and ended up on the street.

Both of his legs were amputated due to gangrene after suffering a blood clot in 1993. Kurt lived on the street for 15 years and died at 62.

ROOTLESS_ll_Kurt_opløst_01_06-07-2021

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – MICHAEL_E_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

MICHAEL ELIASSEN | 1975

Michael Eliassen is from Aarhus. When he was 11, he got a baby sister, and he felt that she became the centre of their parents’ attention. Michael began drinking hard liquors and smoking joints.

His friend’s father, who was a drug addict and alcoholic, took care of him and introduced him to that world. When his friend died, Michael lost all his sense of joy in life and started taking heroin.

He later began training as a chef, but the crime and the drugs had too strong a hold on him. After a stay in prison, he met a Christian woman, but Michael chose to return to the streets of Copenhagen in 2008 at the age of 33. It has not been possible to find Michael.

ROOTLESS_ll_1372

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – SABINA_2

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

SABINA LENNART | 1963

Sabina Lennart, 45, was born in Greenland but came to Denmark as a 5-year-old. She lived a chaotic life with her mother and finally ended up in a children’s home.

Sabina dreamt of becoming a dental technician but no one supported her, and so, she never got an education. She had her first child when she was 25 and since then she has had four more children with different men.

When her last husband left her, she was on her own with all the children. This was more than she could cope with, and she ended up on the street. Her children were raised by different foster families.

After five years on the street, Sabina got a flat, but she could not stand being there. In 2008, she spent the nights on the street or in shelters around the city. It has not been possible to find Sabina again.

ROOTLESS_ll_1420

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – CAROL_2B

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

CAROL LARSEN | 1957

For the past ten years, I have been pottering about alone in my flat on the fifth floor in the Copenhagen’s South Harbour. God knows what I’ve been doing. I have my houseplants and tomato plants on the balcony, and I’m in activation in the City Gardens.

You have to be in order to get social security. I don’t cough anymore, but I don’t walk as well as I used to, and I smoke about 35 hand-rolled a day and drink 10-12 beers a day. It’s not so bad when you enjoy your own company. But I could use a girlfriend, I just don’t know where to find one. Should get on Tinder and write: ‘Boring old bugger seeks girlfriend between 18 and 95’?

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a red-haired 64-year-old idiot with hardened arteries and a set of teeth that’s gone to hell. I might end up with dentures, but I don’t do anything about it, because I’m stubborn and proud.

With the way I’m feeling now, I think I’ll live to 100. The people I met on the street 20 years ago are gone. I moved indoors as soon as I could before it was my turn. I dream of becoming a pensioner and of the pandemic to be over, because I would like to go and see the world, Thailand for example.

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The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>

THE ROOTLESS – CAROL_2A

THE ROOTLESS - WE WHO REMAIN

CAROL LARSEN | 1957

Carol Larsen, 51, is Britta Larsen’s younger brother. He lived at home until he was 21 years old and never got an education but has had different jobs in warehouses and factories.

Carol was never one to put up with anything, and so, he found it difficult to get references from his previous jobs. He became unemployed, started drinking and lost his unemployment benefits and his flat.

In 2004, he ended up on the street, where he managed to get by in the following years.

ROOTLESS_ll_1386_1

<<<                                             >>>

The Rootless – We Who Remain

In the early winter of 2008, I walked through the streets and parks of Copenhagen and visited shelters and reception centres. Here, I met people who existed on the edge of life. People who were moving, tough, eccentric, hardened, tender and fragile, and who forced me to face a reality which I had preferred to know nothing about, but which intrigued me nonetheless.

My meetings with these 30 homeless who had been pushed out of their homes and out of society became the beginning of the project called The Rootless. The result became a series of portraits that told the stories of the lives behind the faces we meet in the streets or in front of the supermarket. These were stories of people whose lives had been disastrously changed by unfortunate actions or conditions of life. The one thing that these people had in common was that they all lived on the street and were fighting their way through life one day at a time.

Thirteen years later, I’ve returned to find out what has become of the homeless, since I photographed them in 2008.

As a photographer, I’m interested in seeing how time affects the human body. How it’s reflected in a person’s face, and the traces it leaves behind. How does the passing of time shape us physically and mentally? And not just the homeless, but me as well, as my gaze has changed during the years that have gone by.

It has been a moving experience, tracking down those who remain. Far too many times, I’ve been told that the person I was looking for had died – either of an overdose, alcohol or suicide. Or that they were too sick to participate. The news of their fates affected me every time. The wasted opportunities. The lives cut short. Out of the thirty homeless I photographed in 2008, thirteen are no longer with us. Four are currently too sick to participate. Six have been impossible to find. Seven people I managed to trace and photograph again.

Inviting the homeless into my studio from the city benches and placing them in front of my camera transformed them. Sometimes the changes were subtle, other times surprising. There was always a transformation. They took themselves seriously with a strength I had not expected, and I’m moved by the way they felt seen as people – and not just as anonymous figures.

The studio became neutral territory. It wasn’t their familiar surroundings, and it wasn’t my home. Within this space emerged the opportunity for genuine contact. Without words, but through their posture, their gaze and focus, they were capable of communicating something essential that bridged the gap between two different worlds.

The Rootless – We Who Remain is a combination of my previous portraits from 2008 placed side by side with my new portraits of the homeless who are still alive today, and whom I have been able to trace. The dead are also represented with new photographs. The original negatives of their portraits were buried in the ground for several months and were then further dissolved through a chemical process. The transformed negatives have then been scanned and enlarged. These new portraits are now characterised by meaningful traces left by the passing of time in their absence as well as the disintegration of their faces and bodies. To me this captures the transitoriness of life and the much too short lives of the homeless.

Helga Theilgaard
Photographer

The Book

‘DE RODLØSE – VI DER ER TILBAGE’

Is available to buy from Booklab here >>