Biography

Discussion

Bart Sorgedrager was born in the town of Terborg, which these days falls under the municipality of Oude IJsselstreek in the Achterhoek region of the Netherlands. Because his father was a family doctor with his own pharmacy, Sorgedrager’s family held a position of prominence at the local level. Studying in school was not the strongest trait of the family’s youngest son, Bart. His heart lay more on the football (soccer) field, a predilection that would later play an important role in his later career as a photographer. In his fourth year, Bart Sorgedrager turned his back on his HAVO (Hoger Algemeen Voortgezet Onderwijs, ‘Higher General Secondary Education’) schooling, which he resumed only after having first worked for six months at Svedex, a door manufacturing company in Varsseveld. Bart’s father was an enthusiastic photographer in his leisure time. In part due to the accessibility of a Zeiss Ikon 6×6 camera, which had once belonged to Bart’s grandfather on his mother’s side, Bart himself became familiar with the photographic medium from a young age. His interest received an even greater boost when his travel-inclined uncle returned home from a trip to Singapore in 1978 with a Nikkormat camera intended for his nephew. After having completed his HAVO-level exams, he soon came to the decision to further his education in the area of photography. This entailed taking evening courses at the MTS (Middelbare Technische School, ‘Intermediate Technical School’) for Photography and Photographic Technique in The Hague, but also gaining practical experience by working for the advertising photographer Joop der Weduwen in Amsterdam. After failing at his first attempt to get accepted at the Gerrit Rietveld Academy, in 1980 Sorgedrager decided to attend the propaedeutic programme at the St. Joost Academy in Breda, with the idea of subsequently gaining admission into the Rietveld Academy. Among his teachers at the Rietveld Academy were André-Pierre Lamoth and Jan Versnel. In the penultimate year of his study, Sorgedrager decided to take advantage of an exchange programme with the Parsons School of Design in New York, even though this institution was completely unaware of his arrival at the time he presented himself. In addition to his position as an assistant in the darkroom at Parsons, Sorgedrager also did an internship at the Visions press agency, run by the press photographer John Ross Baughman, a fanatic photobooks collector.

Upon returning to the Netherlands, Sorgedrager graduated from the Rietveld Academy in 1985 based on a self-published photo novel bearing the title Iberische idylle (‘Iberian Idyll’). His choice of subject matter was inspired by a research topic in the field of urban anthropology as proposed by Ruud van Wezel, a student of sociology at the University of Amsterdam. Van Wezel was the son of the director of the Vulcanus iron foundry in Doetinchem and as such an acquaintance of Sorgedrager’s. The fictitious love story of Rui and Dunia takes place in the illegal neighbourhood ‘Fraternidade’ in Lisbon, Portugal, with Ruud van Wezel and his girlfriend Sarah van Walsum as investigative journalists taking photographs. The chosen form of a photographic novel was in line with a tradition that was still very popular at this time in Portugal. Around mid-1986, Iberische idylle was also published under the title of ‘Futuro Na Fraternidade’ (‘Future in Fraternity’) as a feuilleton in the weekly Crónica Femina.

In the meantime, Sorgedrager continued to educate himself further in the practical aspects of photography. He worked for nine months at Picture Report, an Amsterdam photo agency run by Stef Nielen and Bart Marijnen, specialised in corporate photography. His work there included projects such as a reportage produced for the NAM (Nederlandse Aardolie Maatschappij, Netherlands Petroleum Company’), a calendar for Philips—for which Sorgedrager traveled to Paris and Madrid, together with the photographer Thijs Wolzak—and an assignment for Ethiopian Airlines, for which he made two trips to Ethiopia.

An assignment in 1986 for the AFK (Stichting Amsterdams Fonds voor de Kunst, ‘Amsterdam Fund for the Arts’), which entailed portraying the football (soccer) club Ajax, was an important reason for Sorgedrager to establish himself as an independent photographer. His approach to this assignment, as well as the book that accompanied it, was remarkable because of his conscious decision—in contrast to newspapers and weekly magazines—not to show the game of football itself, but rather to take on the role of a member of Ajax (‘Ajacied’), as a member of a group versus an outsider, thereby following in the footsteps of John Ross Baughman. This explains the title Temidden der Ajacieden (‘Amidst the Ajacieden’). Having just started out as an independent photographer, Sorgedrager’s exhibition and book—which was soon after reprinted—led to a stream of publicity.

The book Temidden der Ajacieden marked both the beginning, but also an ending, as Sorgedrager’s work hereafter essentially shifted to colour photography. No less important is that, in doing so, he discovered that self-formulated assignments financed by third parties gave him the opportunity to define his professional photographic practice as he wished.

Immediately after his assignment for the AFK, Sorgedrager—together with Ruud van Wezel—managed to draw the interest of the Staring Institute in Doetinchem with respect to an enterprise concerning the iron foundry culture in the river basin of the Oude IJssel, the region from which he originated. With the help of financial contributions made by various governmental and private funds, his research project resulted in an exhibition and publication bearing the title IJzer aan de Oude IJssel. Wonen en werken van gieterijpersoneel langs de Oude IJssel 1880-1980 (‘Iron on the Old IJssel. The Life and Work of Foundry Personnel Along the Old IJssel [River] 1880-1980’). In addition to an extensive historical introduction by Van Wezel, the book comprises sixty-eight colour photos illustrating how the centuries-old iron industry in this region—with but one exception—thrives to this day. Undoubtedly inspired in his endeavour by corporate publications made in the nineteenth and early-twentieth century, Sorgedrager shows the production process and the company premises in a branch of industry known for its heavy physical labour, yet void of any personnel. The indispensable role that people play is portrayed in group photos of virtually the entire working force at four iron-processing companies.

While Sorgedrager himself was educated in neither sociology nor anthropology, his working approach continues to be influenced by these professional disciplines. One project attesting to this aspect of his work is the book and exhibition Holandeses of 1991, concerning the topic of Dutch agricultural colonies in Brazil. Sorgedrager’s interest in this subject is partially motivated by the fact that, prior to the birth of their first child, his parents were in the advance stages of emigrating to Canada in the 1950s. The photos in this book are different from those in IJzer langs de Oude IJssel in the sense that the accent lies on the experiences of the generally devout Dutch people who had quite recently emigrated to Brazil. Sorgedrager’s collaboration with the Vormgeverassociatie (‘Designers Association’) in Laag Keppel would lead to a variety of other publications as well as advertising commissions in the years following the publication of Holandeses.

The medium of the photobook would always continue to fascinate Sorgedrager the most, in spite of his regular contributions to the monthly magazine Quote in the years 1991 to 1996 or his photo series on topics such as corporate bankruptcies, featured in the newspaper Trouw (1995), and the weekly series Heilige grond (‘Sacred Ground’) in the NRC Handelsblad (1996). Collecting photobooks eventually became more than just a hobby. Were it his own decision, Sorgedrager would preferred to have all of his assignments result in photobooks. In practice, however, this sometimes proved to be infeasible. In their printed form, assignments for series such as the Ontmoetingsplekken (‘Meeting Places’, 1991), commissioned by the AFK, and the series on the ‘Holland’ sugar factory in Halfweg (1992), commissioned by the province of North Holland, were circulated only on a limited basis. An undated latter concerning this latter project provides a clear idea of Sorgedrager’s thinking and approach to working: ‘When I get the assignment to photograph the ‘Holland’, my working method will coincide with the manner in which I documented the iron foundries on the Oude IJssel. I photographed these factories with a technical camera (4×5″), without people in the image. Nevertheless, the employees are present everywhere in the photos through the many signs that refer to them: the Quick football bag, the worn-out stool behind the lathe, or the poster of the Dutch football team. The “Holland” has to be documented now, because in no time the only thing we’ll have left is the facade with the two swans that has been declared a monument. The facade of “House Swanenburg” from 1648. In the future, no one will know that the “Holland’s” deed of incorporation was signed in this former [“gemeenlandshuis” = house of the Dutch water boards] in Halfweg in 1863, as there will be nothing more in Halfweg that refers to the sugar industry.’ A biography included with this letter also makes mention of a book entitled Relaxrooms, listed under the heading ‘publications in preparation’. Featuring interiors of the Amsterdam sex industry, the project was ultimately never realised.

In the 1990s, Sorgedrager produced a number of book projects that can be described as key works in his oeuvre. They confirm his substantial general interest in history as well as in photobooks specifically. Sorgedrager’s first subject was centred around his uncle Bert Wolters, as well inspired by words of the artist Armando concerning what he called ‘guilty landscapes’: ‘This landscape has done bad things, I can suspect the armies. It is peaceful here, but beware, silence sometimes comes after clamour. Here was pain, here one’s fellow man bludgeoned. Time is to blame. Everything is growing again, but thinking becomes forgetting.’ (From Berlin, Amsterdam 1982) Sorgedrager’s uncle was for him the personification of ‘Biggles’, the main character of William Earl Johns’ youth-oriented series of books bearing the same name. As a student of mechanical engineering at the TH Delft (Technische Hogeschool, ‘University of Technology’), Wolters fled to the United Kingdom along with two fellow students in 1941. There he trained to become a pilot with the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve. In 1943, Wolters was assigned to the Dutch 322 Squadron, established just shortly before. During a practice flight flying over the UK on 16 September 1944, Wolters was killed when his plane crashed. Sorgedrager, who was aware in 1993 that fifty years earlier the 322 was founded as the oldest squadron in the Royal Netherlands Air Force, managed to garner the interest of the same organisation in putting together an exhibition and a book about the history of his uncle and the squadron. The book includes an illustrated biography on the life of Bert Wolters as well as a piece covering the post-war history of the 322 Squadron, both written by W.H. Lutgert, an academic working for the ‘Section Airforce History’. The heart of the publication, however, consists of twenty-eight colour photos of the bases where the squadron had been stationed, from the time of its founding to the German capitulation in May 1945, as well combined with historical photos and aerial shots. Sometimes Sorgedrager’s photos depict merely remnants of what were once the take-off and landing runways; in other images, the test of time has been less harsh, with buildings still standing from World War II. Sorgedrager himself ends his own personal written contribution to the book with the following words: ‘In 1995, we will commemorate the end of the Second World War for the fiftieth time. It is inevitable that with the passing of years, the personally tinted first-hand experiences will be lost. The landscape will nevertheless continue to hold these memories much longer, yet with the passing of time, the eye will have to know more and more to still be able to detect the traces.’ Sorgedrager’s words reflect that, by this time, he had already begun working on a book about cemeteries in the Netherlands, undertaken on his own initiative on behalf of the ‘Stichting Cultuurfonds van de Bank van Nederlandse Gemeenten’ (‘Cultural Foundation of the Dutch Municipal Bank’). Entitled Landschappen van de dood (‘Landscapes of Death’), this book was as well published in 1993 and includes a written piece by Sorgedrager that described his working method: ‘Most of the previously existing photos of cemeteries have details as their subject: the art historical value of the gravestone, the material from which the grave was built, the grave inscription, the symbolism, etc. What I did was take a step back in order to either present an overview of the cemetery or to show the location of this place in its surroundings.’ With such a vantage point chosen in advance, the thirty-two photos provide an unusual perspective of cemeteries. Only one of the photos actually includes people, specifically a shot of a Roman Catholic cemetery in Monnickendam. Squeezed in between a rural highway and an exit, a word of farewell is virtually impossible through the noise of the traffic. In this regard, Sorgedrager’s shot says enough.

In 1997, Sorgedrager came out with two publications that brought him both national and international renown as a producer of photobooks. The first, entitled Cold War. Civiele verdediging in Nederland 1949-1989 (‘Cold War. Civil Defence in the Netherlands 1949-1989’), was published in an edition of 500 copies and overseen by Sorgedrager himself. The booklet was published in the form of a leporello by the Vormgeversassociatie (‘Designers Association’). It sheds light on the organisation BB (Bescherming Bevolking, ‘Population Protection’) and the phenomenon of atomic bomb shelters that were dismantled following the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. The book’s realisation was made possible in part through the Legermuseum (‘Army Museum’) in Delft and a subsidy of the Mondriaan Foundation. Sorgedrager’s colour shots of atomic bomb shelters, which by this time had fallen into disuse, are combined in a fascinating way with historical black-and-white images retrieved from various sources. This approach to working is reminiscent of the famous book and exhibition project realised seven years earlier Steelworks. Consett, from Steel to Tortilla Chips, by the British photographer Julian Germain (London 1990). In its format and form, Cold War also directly refers to an exceptional publication in the rich history of Dutch corporate photobooks: the leporello Willem Ruys. To See the World, published by Meijer’s Industriële Uitgeverij (‘Meijer’s Industrial Publishing’) in Wormerveer based on a design by Jurriaan Schrofer, with photos by Carel Blazer and a text by Max Dendermonde. With Cold War, Sorgedrager was intentionally alluding to this appealing historical publication in his capacity as a collector of photobooks.

During the 1950s and ’60s, Meijer’s Industriële Uitgeverij played a notable role when it came to the publication of photobooks for the many companies that celebrated their founding approximately 100 years after the Industrial Revolution, or as a special gift for business relations to mark the departure of a company director. At the time, renowned photographers from the GKf (Gebonden Kunsten Federatie, vakgroep fotografie, ‘United Arts Federation, Department of Photography’)—to which Sorgedrager also belonged, becoming a member in 2004 at the recommendation of Corinne Noordenbos—worked in teams with top contemporary designers and authors to come up with these corporate photobooks. Internationally, these works form a pinnacle in the history of the Dutch photobook. As one of the authors involved, Max Dendermonde once wrote a roman à clef on this topic, with the following passage being relevant to Bart Sorgedrager’s working method: ‘”Damn,” said Axel Rodermond [a contraction of Paul Rodenko and Max Dendermonde] suddenly, “look what it says. The Zaanstroom. Everything in wood, since 1867.” They were standing behind a large, closed truck. “That’s that international door factory,” said Axel. “One hundred years and major interests in Suriname. (…) They’re doing extremely well. With all that construction. They could very well use a large commemorative book…”‘ (De laatste beeldschone zwendel, ‘The Last Stunning Swindle’, Utrecht 1988).

Inspired by these historical corporate photobooks, Sorgedrager began searching for companies that were about to approach some kind of milestone. Instead of anniversaries, however, the main topic was now primarily company closures. After his GSM ‘Holland’ sugar factory project in Halfweg and the series on bankrupt companies, the closure of the nuclear energy plant in Dodewaard followed next as an ideal subject for a photobook. The idea was subsequently approved by the company’s board of directors. During the first three months of 1997, Sorgedrager made thirty visits to the nuclear plant in Dodeward, a number documented precisely for reasons of security. The shots for mensenstroom, herinnering aan de kernenergiecentrale Dodewaard 1969-1997 (‘Human Current, Recollections of the Nuclear Energy Plant Dodewaard 1969-1997’) were taken with a 4×5 camera. From the start, Sorgedrager had planned on a collaboration with the Vormgeversassociatie in creating what was to become a kind of family album for departing personnel. To serve as a model for this publication, he turned to Nico Jesse’s 1953 photobook Oranje Nassau Mijnen (‘Orange Nassau Mines’). The numbers appearing on the book’s covers count down from 58 to 00 megawatt, i.e. the normal production level to shut-down. The book itself opens with the number 58, followed by a panoramic shot of the plant in its rural surroundings, a poetic text on the plant’s closure written by the company director, and an introduction by Wim Wennekes. Marked by Sorgedrager’s own entry pass, the photographic quest in search of the heavily fortified company and its employees begins. The photos alternate with pages of abbreviations taken from safety manuals, floor plans, operational schemes, organograms, etc. The book closes with a list of all 156 employees and a full registration of the near 200 hours involved in shooting the photos. The 1,000-copy edition was not sold in bookstores and was distributed only in limited circles. These days, mensenstroom has become an international collector’s item as a result of its publication in The Photobook: A History (Volume II) written by Martin Parr and Gerry Badger (London 2006). One year later, Sorgedrager published an article on mensenstroom at Parr’s request in Witness Number Three (New York 2007), in addition to two articles by the photographers Rob Hornstra and Mark Neville with respect to their own photobooks.

Following the projects on the sugar factory ‘Holland’ in Halfweg (1992) and mensenstroom (1997), company closures have become a constant in Sorgedrager’s work. One of his first works in this genre is the publication Vlissingen-Breskens. Kruiningen-Perkpolder. Het laatste jaar van de veren over de Westerschelde (‘Vlissingen-Brskens. Kruiningen-Perk Polder. The Last Year of the Ferries on the Westerschelde’, 2003). As was often the case in his work, Sorgedrager’s own personal recollections served as an important motivation for this project: ‘Both of my grandmothers lived in Vlissingen. My parents grew up there. When we were little, my brother and I, as opposed to the eldest two [children], were not allowed to travel with our parents on holidays abroad. We had to go to our grandmothers in Vlissingen. Besides Miniature Walcheren in Middelburg, the outing with grandma Sorgedrager was then the crossing to Breskens. As we approached Breskens, we had to hide in the toilets and were only able to come back on deck once the boat had left the harbour. She did buy a round trip for herself. But we had to promise not to tell grandma Wolters that we traveled back and forth on a one-way ticket. Child’s play, the boat to Breskens. There were still no double-deckers sailing back then and we dug tunnels in the beach. My two grandmothers have died by now and my youth lies far behind me. Nevertheless, that the ferries are shutting down still touches me.’

The publication on the Westerschelde ferries was designed by Piet Gerards, as were a series of other books focusing on company closures that followed, which Sorgedrager realised himself: De Kruitfabriek in Muiden (1702-2004) (‘The [Gun-] Powder Factory in Muiden’), De Ritmeester 1887-2005 (‘The Troop Captain’), and the three-part series on the closing of the Unilever factories in Delft, Loosdrecht, and Vlaardingen (2008). In each of these publications, attention is inevitably devoted to company personnel, who were obliged to seek work elsewhere as a result of these closures.

Sorgedrager had been fascinated by sports, and especially football (soccer), from an early age. In the area of photography, the photobook Temidden der Ajacieden was the first sign of this interest. Apart from his own activity on the football field, Sorgedrager’s love for the sport manifested itself in the year 2000 in the form of three publications and exhibitions: Het Olympisch Stadion (‘The Olympic Stadium’); the projects that Sorgedrager initiated himself België-Holland, Holland-België. Voetbal in de Lage Landen (‘Belgium-Holland, Holland-Belgium. Football in the Low Countries’, exhibition and publication) stemming from the European football championship; and Voetbalmekka’s in Gelderland (‘Football Meccas in Gelderland’), an exhibition and an accompanying brochure at the Valkhof Museum in Nijmegen. The famous Amsterdam stadium for the Olympic Games of 1928, designed by the architect Jan Wils, was saved from demolition just in the nick of time. The completion of its restoration in 2000 served as the stimulus for the publication of Sorgedrager’s book Het Olympisch Stadion. More or less based on the example of his previous books 322 Squadron and Cold War, Het Olympisch Stadion consists of Sorgedrager’s own contemporary colour photos as well as historical visual material shot by other photographers, which he had tracked down himself. A separate quire consists of programme sheets from the years 1928 to 1996, followed by an overview of the key athletic achievements attained at the stadium and a virtually complete list of the events that took place there. In 2001, Het Olympisch Stadion received a second edition under the title of Het drieluik van Wils. Het Olympisch Stadion en de Citroëngarages (‘The Triptych of Wils. The Olympic Stadium and the Citroën Garages’), which included an extra introductory quire about these automobile garages, which as well just barely escaped demolition.

For the project België-Holland, Holland-België, eleven Dutch and Belgian photographers were invited to give their vision of this ‘sport of all sports’. All were asked to do so based on the motto of the Dutch football legend Johan Cruyff: ‘football is a game of errors’. In addition to articles written by various authors, the books’ pages are interwoven with historical images. Sorgedrager’s own contribution deals with so-called ‘wild football’: those with no ties to the football federation who played behind a local café on Sunday mornings on a field maintained themselves, with sanitary facilities housed in a converted chicken coop, and obligatory post-game get-togethers in a nearby pub. For his location, Sorgedrager chose the area where he was born: the Achterhoek.

Sorgedrager’s contribution to België-Holland, Holland-België corresponds with his 1997 assignment from the province of Gelderland, i.e. to photograph the various aspects of football. His photo presentation at the exhibition in Nijmegen, entitled Voetbalmekka’s in Gelderland (2000), and the brochure that accompanied it—combined with recollections of the legendary football shoe manufacturer Quick in Hengelo, a company that was ultimately forced to close its doors in 1991—is typical of Sorgedrager’s working style.

Besides industrial buildings, stadiums, and sport complexes, (social) housing as well began to play a significant role in Sorgedrager’s work starting in 1994. A first taste of this was the series of photos published in Nieuw-West. Een buurt van goede bedoelingen (‘New West. A Neighbourhood of Good Intentions’). The volume, which included both pre-existing as well as newly written recollections of the ‘Westelijke Tuinsteden’ (‘Western Garden Cities’) neighbourhood of Amsterdam, was published on the initiative of De Driehoek foundation, in order to promote a discussion regarding the quality of life in this part of the city. The seventeen photos that Sorgedrager shot for this publication are intriguing because he intentionally chose to examine the ‘New West’ neighbourhood through the eyes of photographers working at the time when these neighbourhoods were being built in the 1950s. He managed to achieve this effect by reverting to black-and-white photography and using a 6×6 camera with a yellow filter. The booklet was reprinted in 2001, and in the same year, it received a follow-up in the form of the publication Goed Wonen in Nieuw- West (‘Good Living in New West’). For this project, Sorgedrager turned to black-and-white images of the original model homes, which had been photographed at the time for the magazine Goed Wonen by his former teacher Jan Versnel. Sorgedrager then placed these in contrast with his own colour photos of the current situation. This publication appeared simultaneously with an exhibition bearing the same name, as part of the event Het Trappenhuis (‘The Stairwell’), held from May to September 2001 in connection with 50 jaar Westelijke Tuinsteden (’50 Years Westelijke Tuinsteden’) and Wij wonen, 100 jaar woningwet (‘We Reside. 100 Years of the Housing Act’). Undoubtedly in part because of his previous experience, Sorgedrager was commissioned by the Rijksmuseum and the NRC Handelsblad in the year 2000 to photograph the so-called Vinex neighbourhood ‘Leidsche Rijn’ within the framework of the annual photography assignment Document Nederland. For this project, Sorgedrager followed six couples and families during and after their move to Leidsche Rijn.

In 2005, a structural collaboration arose between Sorgedrager, the urban sociologist Ineke Teijmant, and the publisher Bas Lubberhuizen, beginning with the series Verdwijnende/Veranderende buurten in Amsterdam (‘Vanishing/Changing Neighbourhoods in Amsterdam’), which has up to this time resulted in the publication of six mini-volumes: Meer en Vaart (2005), Buskenblaser (2005), Wolbrantskerkweg (2007), De Kolenkitbuurt (2008), Geuzenveld (2009) and De Verfdoos (2010). Besides historical (architectural) photos in black and white, construction drawings, and floor plans, the accent in Sorgedrager’s colour photos lies on the current (multicultural) inhabitants of these neighbourhoods under threat.

For Sorgedrager, a photographer’s work implies an interest in the history and theory of the medium, accompanied by the need to draw the interest of younger or future colleagues in the field. This last aspect is evident in Sorgedrager’s various positions as an instructor at the Gerrit Rietveld Academy and the HKU (Hoge School voor de Kunsten Utrecht, ‘Utrecht School of the Arts’). An important aspect of his teaching is the balance between theory and practical experience. As Sorgedrager puts it: ‘Mastering knowledge and from that knowledge photographing.’ Documentary photography remains a key word in this process. Unlike the 1960s and ’70s, however, the thrust is not as oriented towards supporting or inspiring social change. For Sorgedrager, the main issue is much more about detecting complicated processes of social change in a timely manner, e.g. company closures or urban renewal projects, and showing them from various points of view. In other words, Henri Cartier-Bresson’s ‘decisive moment’ has been replaced by a greater knowledge of current processes of change. Meeting and collaborating with the urban sociologist Ineke Teijmant has deepened this theoretical development, as demonstrated in three articles that Sorgedrager published together with his friend and colleague, the photographer Corinne Noordenbos, starting in 2004. The application of the so-called ‘Grounded Theory Approach’, as formulated by the sociologists Barney Glaser and Amselm Strauss in 1967, was critical to this. This research method is not based on testing hypotheses in terms of their validity, but on a correlation between empirical data and the research objective. The collected data not only answers questions, but also helps in (re-) defining the research topic. Particularly in the article “Documentary Photography: Between Knowledge and Art. The Use of ‘The Grounded Theory Approach’ in Documentary Photography’, Teijmant, Sorgedrager, and Noordenbos argue that there exists a relationship between the working methods of documentary photographers and sociologists. They do so based on four historically intriguing (book) projects: Robert Frank, The Americans (1959), Martin Parr, The Last Resort (1986), Larry Sultan, Pictures from Home (1992), and Theo Baart, Territorium (‘Territory’, 2003). To implement their ideas as well in the teaching of photography and to publish a book about documentary photography for this very purpose, Teijman and Sorgedrager were both taken on as instructors at the HKU in 2003-’04, through the mediation of Noordenbos.

Sorgedrager has used various cameras during his career as a photographer. He started out in his youth using his grandfather’s Zeiss Ikon 6×6 camera. In 1978, he began working with his own Nikkormat, which he later substituted with a Nikon FE. During the second half of the 1980s, he took over an Arca Swiss brand technical camera from a local photographer in Terborg, which he used for the project IJzer aan de Oude IJssel. In part inspired by Cas Oorthuys’ book Landbouw (‘Agriculture’, Amsterdam 1946), Sorgedrager purchased a Mamiya 6 in 1990 for his project about Dutch agricultural colonies in Brazil. A Mamiya 7 followed later. In combination with his technical camera, he used this medium-format camera for virtually all of his (book) projects starting in 2000. Generally speaking, Sorgedrager’s subject matter determines his choice of which camera to use. His first experience with digital photography was therefore not until 2008, at which time he purchased a Nikon D700.

As a maker of photobooks, Sorgedrager holds a special place both in the Netherlands and abroad. This applies especially to his books concerning company closures, which are largely produced and published on his own initiative. Whereas the books described by Mirelle Thijsen in Het bedrijfsfotoboek 1945-1965. Professionalisering van fotografen in Nederland (‘The Corporate Photobook 1945-1965. Professionalisation of Photographers in the Netherlands’, 2002) were generally published on the occasion of corporate anniversaries and intended for external business relations, a number of Sorgedrager’s books were also ‘family albums’ for company employees at the time of a closure. Besides the actual work floor, the company employees are also featured extensively. In part because of this, these books provide a unique image of the substantial changes affecting corporate culture and the Netherlands as a producing country at the end of the twentieth century and the beginning of this century. One passage from the introductory text in the publications concerning the closure of three Unilever factories says enough: ‘In addition to being a place to work, the factory as become a place of historical value that deserves a lasting place in our memory. “Photos are the tent poles of the memory”, as the Dutch writer Gerrit Krol once said. In this photobook, we would like to present the “tent poles” in order to maintain your memories of this factory. They are photos of places, people, and machines, which later, when the factory is no longer standing and the images have faded away, will again bring colour and detail to that memory.’ Considering these (book) projects, Sorgedrager—in contrast to many of his fellow contemporary documentary photographers—placed less value on the presentation of individual photos in a gallery or museum than on the context of the published photo, which he in part determined himself. The added value of his work lies not just in the fact that he provides a lasting contribution to the ‘industrial archaeology’ of the Netherlands, but also to the visual formation of dramatic changes in social housing, with all of the possible consequences for the future liveability of cities in the Netherlands.

Documentation