Jukka Onnela – A Kind of Error
All these photographs were taken in the apartment where I lived between 1999 and 2008. I didn’t consciously document the room, or the life in it, but like in every normal household photographs were taken. Most of the images shown here were taken between 2003 and 2007.
I guess the things, that I wanted to say through my photography during those years weren’t really eclectic as my feelings and ideas about life were extremely bitter and nihilistic, even misanthropic. The reason for the self portraits shown in here is that at the time of taking them I selfishly thought that through my own thoughts and visual ideas, through my personal relationship with this world and through my own problems I could say something about humanbeings in general. It was a naïve idea, but when I was taking the images I was mentally quite exhausted and even if it has been written that photography isn’t psychotheraphy I do believe that taking photographs all the time cleansed me in some ways. I think that it wasn’t a cathartic experience, but an actual feeling and experience of being cleansed of all that I was seeing, looking and thinking. I failed as this medium is extremely limited and automatically leaves things out which means that these images are not exact documents of what happened in and around me, but incomplete and shattered simulations of those things. I failed as it is impossible to capture ones inner life into a damn photograph and it doesn’t matter how extreme the thoughts and feelings are as the photographs of them usually end up being mockeries of the original ideas. I failed as there are moments, acts and words that define us as human beings and I know that these defining moments are not in these images. All the wrong words that were spat out without thinking, all the things that were and are impossible to get in to a photograph are not here. To put it simply it wasn’t the photographs that created this story, but the life that surrounds these photographs.
There are things more important than photography for the sake of photography (or for the sake of psychotherapy) and still I have a feeling, or I hope that these images act as a simulation of certain aspects of this life even if these kind of aspects of life have been shown in a visual language exactly like in these images.
Photographs: Jukka Onnela
Website: http://smokecollective.org/
Ick.
Jukka –
i have not read anything you wrote. take this.
f*)k you. f65k your lifestyle. f@3k your needles. f!#k your BOOKS.
LOVE IT. next time you in LA – if that is the best way to spend the money – let me know – first I will smash your face with good old loving punch. then we’ll become friends. muthafucka.you are good.
ps – fcuk your scanner……
Ps. ps. Apologize for not being eloquent. I am not. That is the beauty.
Off to read what you effing wrote – like it matters. tri-x – shmi-x.
get in touch with me and panos, you sick bastard ….
man…
I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown..
4th essay in a row I can’t see in the freeky iPhone..
I’m so intrigued now..
I was anticipating this essay because BOB TOLD
ME ALREADY THE BEST THINGS ABOUT IT..
but I .. Can’t watch it..
So all I can say is:
Steve Jobs , Apple.. Please stop playing with my nerves..
Allow “flash” on your iPhone..
It’s crazy…
And after what Haik said I’m even more intrigued…
Maybe JIM can help me sort this out ..
Ok , soonest…I’ll be able to watch it( and the previous 3 ones)…
Big hug y’all …
Anton –
Is there a way to get to the images directory and look at the photos without flash interference?
Would it be possible to make it public if it is not?
Thanks
Now thats enough to knock us out of our safe middle class musings over breakfast.
I haven’t had time to read the script yet, but will do later
Increadible…. that people live are able to live and operate in such chaos, increadible to be able to document it at the same time.
Bravo
Dah,
brilliant to hit us with this sledgehammer after the feelgood factor of the seaside.
I haven’t experienced living in this kind of environment so a lot of the images don’t resonate with me and I understand they are very personal to the photographer. There is some shock to these images which for me begin to wear off somewhere in the middle. So I think the essay should be edited down, chop it in half I think, there is too much repetition.
What is the story though behind the censored faces? This interested me more.
You also state there wasn’t a conscious decision to take photos, but there has been a consciousness behind the editing process so what difference does that mean to you, when you explain the essay?
Jukka, you need a cleaner, Man. Get someone to come in, perhaps about once a year, and run a vacuum cleaner around the place.
Seriously, this is an interesting essay and seems to be a very honest attempt to document a period of your life. Duane Michals came to mind as I was viewing your photography – in the sense that you both push the boundaries of the medium. Nothing wrong with that: it won’t suit everyone but that’s o.k.
You say that you “failed to capture ones inner life into a damn photograph” but you may be being too hard on yourself here. Surely it is for your audience to judge? With time, you may look back and decide that yes, that was the inner me. I hope so: besides, once your work is published it rather becomes public property in that it becomes a mirror for the viewer to see their inner life in the photographs rather than yours. Congratulations on being published here, Jukka – now go and dust those negs!
Best wishes,
Mike.
hi jukka.
as you mentioned that it is all the influences around one that tells the story of a situation; the political and social place someone’s in, i think you are on the mark on that. This makes me think that these images would be a lot clearer to us outsiders if you had either written, or wrote in retrospect, about those influences playing that role in your life at that time.
it may not of been cathartic at the time but having these images and the time to think about them hopefully can be.
thanks for submitting these.
it’s going to take me a long time to figure out ‘why‘, even ripping through these images at my own pace (fairly quickly), a long time to figure out ‘why’ the fuck i was still looking at my monitor by the time i got to frame sixty-three with a loose jaw, ‘why’ the word ‘fuck’ seems so appropriate to articulate this work.
i’m torn between, ‘Fuck, well that’s eight minutes of my life that i can never have back’ and the feeling of, hmmm, , Fuck, i’d prefer to Pay to see this piece, if i could walk around a gallery to see these in print, bigger and at my own pace.
i know there’s some very deliberate design inside this set and sequence with regards to subject and visual pace and yep, a very deliberate and somewhat original presentation style; anyone that thinks they can cook then ‘take’ what looks like random snapshots and then easily ‘construct’ this piece of sixty-plus images with the same magnitude of mood is a fucking idiot. i love the story-arcs that erupt like surprises towards the end and i would even go so far to say it’s a pure twist in plot.
sure, the subject is over-done, but so sneaking into a bathroom stall in a dark seedy bar with a total stranger, but neither things seem ever to become boring to experience. i think it has something to do with discovering just how close to demise the plot will take us; since it’s a universal plot, it will never become tiresome.
then again, it could be personal only to me, but i personally love self-destruction [stories] like this for the same reason i feel French movies are the best movies in the universe. Both give you a small dose of some real-life suffering in some form or another, but i only like self-destruction pieces when they have the plot twist this one has, when it become more of a metaphor for resurrection verse a story of terminal self-demise, but again, only resurrection if it’s at the cost some irreparable flesh, otherwise you just have a phony hollywood story..
So Yeah Yukka, I guess this is a nice dose of self-demise alchemy and if you let this roll over you, you just got a small-pox shot of actual resurrection with evidence of the resilience some bodies have to chemical punishment, but metaphorical evidence to the resilience our minds have to what might seem like detrimental counter-productive experiences, but a life without some good old fashioned fear and loathing in the doses appropriate for each individual is a life without rain.
now, i see there is a meaty artist statement below the essay, do I gamble with my pleasing perception of this piece only to find out the piece is supposed to be about something I will think is a total cliché? or worse, an ‘exploration of the self’? I think I will just walk away slowly from the artist statement, history tells me it’s better this way.
Too Long. Way way too long. there is some seriously strong imagery ‘strewn’ around this essay.
Jukka, You say you did not get to yourself in these. I disagree. Maybe you didnt get to the ‘you’ you wanted to find, but I can feel all sorts of stuff in these pictures. They are dirty with emotion. Even the fact that its way too long, and gets ‘lost’ in what it wants to say, seems quite telling no?
In here somewhere is an anguished scream wearing a fuck you mask. I think it has real potential.
PEACE
John
Damn, I played Strength Beyond Strength after it was over…
A lot of recognizable stuff, which is worrying. Reminds me that I have to pick up a couple of rolls of neg lying on the floor of my room. #31 is a stunner, it actually gets better after it. Some of the early pictures repeat way too much for me (like the recurring hand of fate). Did I only see one can of Karhu?
Little Brother :)))))))))))))))
having brought this flower to bloom here at Burn, i must wait to write, etiquette and all that right, so for now i just wanted to tell u how proud i am….and that whether it was 1 year ago, or 3 weeks ago or last week, each appraisal, each swallowing, hasn’t at all diminished by lay inside the book-film-beer-dirtstain scattered damp life that once was there, and that house a ferocious and indomitable will to live…..i’m waiting for the ‘your negatives should be cleaned better next time you scan them’..;))…….
with you…
fly it wide, fly it wide….
i’ll write after more have had a chance to see and respond…
hugs
bob
as imperfect as life is, this essay mirrors it superbly in its own imperfection, repetition, escapism, pointlessness. chills me and makes me feel like i need to step up my own game.
It takes a lot of skill and courage to post an essay that intimate. I definitely felt like I was there, and eagerly sat through the 60 images without hesitation. Congrats.
The only thing I can stupidly say about this is that made me RUN to “Cocaine True, Cocaine Blue” by Eugene Richards, again.
i thought this piece as has been said was a little too long. 20 or so less images would have had more of a powerful impact i tend to think.
i feel that this piece was trying its best to be ‘down’. i have seen a number of recent essays like this (boogie’s “it’s all good springs to mind) and this may shape my opinion as such.
non-the-less, still an impressive piece and has the ability to resonate with the viewer.
cheers for submitting and letting us into your ‘room’.
j.
CHAOS…
seems to be the word..
NOT failure…
strong,
yucky…
lost..
in fear
and
filth..
THE END
painful…
perhaps
THE BEGINNING
has arrived
for you…
hard to see your negatives,
thrown in a pile..
such lack of care
for you
for your art…
keep shooting…
and
believing…
in you..
in your
photography
and
your
ideas…
strong body of work..
CHAOS
**
anxious to hear Panos’s response to this essay…
Nice photographs! You have a gift to bring out the textures in images. thanks for sharing and inspiring!
Chaos chaos chaos, yes, shades of fear and loathing.
Very powerful stuff. I’ll need a while to digest this one.
I’m sure glad I’m not your landlord.
PS, these are not photos “like in every normal houshold”
Disturbing, dark and but for the grace of god. Fascinating. Courageous. Like you give a crap what I think. Good for you. Certainly this has gallery written all over it with spray paint and shit all over the floor and you in the corner on the stained mattress flipping off the wine and cheese crowd. Just love it, or hate it, and love to hate it, if you know what I mean. Perhaps one of the first essays here I can smell, which does bother me a bit. And somehow, within this seventh circle there is a sensitivity that comes through. An understanding of how screwed up this is and the ironic traps of anarchy/freedom and the need to escape, and to stay. Strange. Or maybe that’s all B.S. Yeah. It is what it is, and it is good.
smoke collective is an inspiring move.. a good collective – perhaps something some burn photographers could take a note from and create a similar working site.. i´d be up for that.
jukka.. hope the error has kind of righted itself :ø)
unpleasant, honest, up-front and quietly disturbing stuff.. congrats for getting to a point of showing and more luck for the future.
pea´s n chips.
david
First thought: This is the antithesis of Facebook. (Facebook photos as the happy, glossy, mostly-chronological document of life that it is for many people)
This is completely uncomfortable, then about halfway through it gets familiar in a strange way…like I could walk into this room, this chaos, and know it. I think it pegs the dirty side of college (or a time like it in life, at least for me)…making mistakes, growing up. Maybe the defining moments, acts, and words of life aren’t there per say, but I think the progression, or the effect of those things is felt. Especially with the last photo, white paint on the hand, painting the walls to leave, cleaning up the mess…
Each time I watch it I feel uncomfortable, but I think it’s more the discomfort of looking back at my own mess. I absolutely love this.
BURN will see more from the SMOKE Collectif….must be patient…trust me ;)))…
for now, Raise High the Roofbeams for Jukka!
running
bob
The real deal.
disturbing. honest. intimate. original. strange. funny (in places). the real thing.
i love it.
patricia
JUKKA,
I read most everything you put up on LS, and I have oft thought about you over these past few years. On a personal note, I do wish you a life beyond the “extremely bitter and nihilistic, even misanthropic” and it seems that you may there now..I very much want to care about your images in the same way I (strangely, distantly) care about you, but something is lacking for me in many of them..in short, as I was watching the images pass before my eyes, I often looked away, out my window, at the birds and the trees, at the light, not as an escape from your images, but sometimes out of boredom or a disconnect. I can’t say what the missing element is for me in your work, but it could be because when you were making them you were ‘mentally quite exhausted’ and so I miss out on a sense of life in them, life even in the face of nihilism..I adore the work of Anders Petersen, and I can see how now that you are ‘cleansed’ by the process of having made these images you may make work that would make me respond in a way similar to when I view his; curious, moved, fascinated, etc..a visceral response that is also aligned with my head and heart. I know it is in you make that statement about humanity that resonates in both you and me.
All I have is feelings of nostalgia. The god old days — even if they were very, very bad. Sure glad you weren’t around to take my picture when I was a kid… haha.
Tremendous
thank you erica.
my feelings too. the feeling of disconnect was what i was trying to pin down.
but i wanted a little more time to watch this again
so i could process it a little more and talk about it.
thank you All for the comments.
its always interesting to read how differently people interpret/feel/don’t feel images and not just these, but in general and before i answer i have to read them with more care.
one that stuck when i was quickly reading them was the word “nostalgia”. now i don’t know what is the antonym for nostalgia or if there is one, but it’s not what i feel when looking at these unless it’s nostalgia for doing, seeing and experiencing things that are just plain f***ing stupid and wrong.
i do appreciate them all and will comment more after i’ve slept a day.
j
“just plain f***ing stupid and wrong.”
Yes Jukka, that’s pretty much how I respond to this essay too. Nostalgia is not a word that comes to mind.
A couple of things have come to mind while re-viewing these. Firstly, that amid all the chaos and clutter, there are the trappings of middle class. Books, Cameras, clean and styled hair, and only one layer of garbage.
I’m likely making a big presumtion, but I’d say the people depicted here are educated and middle class. What I see here is the kind of chaos typical of my own twenty-something kids, and most of my friends kids of the same age who grew up without having any responsibilities and now seem totally in-capable of functioning on their own.
There is something terribly wrong and disturbing depicted here. The filth, the drugs, the self mutilation, the anger and angst. This has always been with us I think, I’m thinking Larry Clark, and Danny Lyon, not to mention Hunter Thompson, but it just seems so much more prevelant with the “Y-bother” generation.
Youv’e left me with the feeling that perhaps your brain has finally kicked in, and that you are past this sort of behavior. I do hope so. I have a lot of fear for the state of youth and humanity these days. Brigitte et Bernard is the other side of the state of the human condition, and gives me hope.
Gordon L.
Ah but Gordon, didn’t we screw around in our youth too? Maybe it wasn’t as self-damaging as what Jukka shows here, but stupid nonetheless. To my way of thinking each generation has to make its way through its own shit. There’s no detour around it, I’m afraid. Just got to walk or crawl or puke your way through. Hopefully we come out the other side, as it sounds like our friend Jukka has done.
BTW when I said I loved it, I was not talking about loving what these kids were choosing to do to themselves and one another. I was referring to the view Zukka gives us into the reality of the life he and his friends were living at the time. I personally think his depiction is brilliant. As someone said–was it young Tom?–you SMELL it!
Patricia
WOW. Don’t know what to say really… OK.. Too long, but most of us got through it, maybe even those who didn’t like it..
It’s controversial and generates discussion and isn’t that what art/photography to a large part is about?
What I liked most about it probably was the collage’s you did.
Thanks for this. Some very powerful photos of your life and surroundings. At first I thought this would be another romantic drug series and was prepared to hate it. But in fact it seemed more like it may have been your own wake up call or you way of smashing the romantic perception of the wounded artist.
Thanks.
Hi Jukka,
This is difficult to describe your shot as very good one or otherwise.
I think this is a unique approach to tell the story rather the emotions or your mental status..
I am just thinking what the meaning of photography, the utility of it, why I take shots and thinking about it all the time….
Anyway many thanks to David who put the fire in our inner self and to rethink & rethink more about photography.
Thanks a lot.
Regards.
Partha Pal
from Birbhum
Jukka
Maybe it’s the distance I have from these kinds of days, these photos were taken up until last year, right?
Ever able to laugh at something that was extremely painful and destructive in the moment, years down the road. That’s what I mean by nostalgia. These photos took me right back to a place I never want to be again, but I remember more of the good parts now than I did a year after it all was going down.
Sorry if my reading of this essay struck you as strange or out of place — but it’s what I felt — and I really felt it… so, good job.
Too long, but brilliant. Jukka seems self-deprecating, almost apologetic, and rambling in his statement. Never apologize for what you feel or what you experienced. We are all a product of our experience, and yes, this came from a dark place (one with which I can empathize) and this story took courage to show. From 1999 to 2008…that is a long fucking time to be delving into the circle and cycle of escapist behavior. But, as insinuated, the actions, reactions, and behaviors witnessed here are a giving in to the monster we seek in dark times…a manifestation of the answer to the question of how to pass time and get through to the next stage. I’m not saying that this is the right answer or that it is for everyone or that it resonates with everyone, but I am saying that is what this essay says to me. And it would be very hard for me to show work like this if I had documented times when I felt darkest…in those times, I barely had the energy or will to get out of my house, much less pick up a camera while I was inside it. My cave was simply that…a cave, dark and gloomy and infested with debilitating and dark thought. And I escaped reality and wallowed in my pain…in my little cave. And I didn’t share that with anybody. So, Jukka, congratulations on sharing your work. Don’t ever apologize for the way you feel or felt about anything. We are products of our experience, but it doesn’t define us…it’s what we take away from experience and how we utilize that information to make us stronger and better people. I hope that you are now in a place of hope. You deserve to stand in the sun and feel its rays. I hope you do.
wow, Carrie, i haven’t even seen this essay yet, just read your comment and my jaw dropped..i’m holding my breath now as i venture northward to the essay itself..whoa…powerful comment, girl..
best
kat~
Jukka
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your honesty, beauty, heartbreak..i could see twice as many photos, 10 times as many photos..i could not possibly get enough of your work. I have just begun. You humble me. I am sorry for the length of this but this song literally came on as i went through your essay..forgive me everyone for posting this in its full extent..
“From The Bottom Of My Heart”
The Wallflowers
Fire on the porch on a summer’s night
All of my things are there inside
Black smoke rise up, burn on burn higher
I smell leaves and burning tires
Dogs in the meadows barking wild
Blackbird rise up, tell me what have you done
I’m not drunk and I’m not sad
There’s nothing inside that I want back
Let me touch your lips, let me see where you’re at
Do you wonder how I am tonight
Then don’t lose time looking in my eyes
Not every tear means you’re gonna cry
From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
There is nothing but dust
In the layers I’m peeling
From the bottom of my heart
Beats a rattling drum
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun
Under crushing skies of grays
Paralyzed with phantom pains
Before this room became just a place
Where I just sleep through endless days
Spinning webs and carving names
Where thoughts break up, exploding in space
But I once crossed a quarter mile
Through black pools of razor wire
And cut through the steel
with the edge of a file
While singing rhaphsodies in stride
Hellbent and dignified
Now my time has come
Who you fooling and why?
From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
There is eminent death
to the promise I’m keeping
From the bottom of my heart
Comes an army of one
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun
Pale-faces and hollowed eyes
Buried under ruptured skies
Not every smile
means I’m laughing inside
Two-face and compromised
I’ve enraptured you with lies
Everything means nothings
and tonight everything is mine
From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
I have buried so much
In the layers I’m peeling
From the bottom of my heart
A battle will come
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun
From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
Wrapped around tight
With no sign of leaving
From the bottom of my heart
A ballad is sung
Through a whisper she comes
Into the rays of the sun
shell-shocked
Kathleen
Which of these pics should I hang as prints on my wall?
Maybe some usefull material for psychology students.
Dietmar – i love how you postulated your question but the trend is to have magnetic walls nowadays.
Jukka,
great work and maximum RESPECT for your honesty and openness!
However your images are very disturbing and confusing to me.
Yesterday morning I looked at the work and stopped the slideshow after image 14 because I just couldn’t take it. Strong tobacco! I wasn’t up to it. It is quite strange, but in the afternoon I went to see an exhibition by Helmut Newton – a pretty weird combination on a singel day… really!
Today I watched the full show and I slowly begin to understand. Your life still looks unfamiliar to me. Perhaps this could have happened to me, if I wouldn’t have been lucky at the many junctions in life. One wrong turn, one mishap and off you go. Hm, makes me think.
Jukka, your images were horrible, awful and frightening and at the same time the images and your words are so true and honest and give hope and encouragement.
Brilliant!
All the best for your future!
Reimar
What’s the behind the blacked-out eyes? Did these people want to be blacked out, or did you black them out for your own reasons?
Makes me of G.G. Allin
…me think of…
good morning.
where to start?
Erica. I do understand how you feel, or in this case do not feel. yesterday, when i saw these for the 1st time from burn i tried to watch the slide show with a critical eye and tried to understand how a person who hasn’t ever been part of my life would see the images, but i couldn’t as i felt distant. i tried, but my thoughts and eyes kept drifting away, and exactly like you i looked at the birds, the sun, everything but the photographs. of course it’s different for me as they’re my own images. maybe it’s because they’re too much about the past and i don’t want “go” there there anymore, maybe because i nowadays i think about life and photography in a different way (not much differently, but also not so extremely). there are days when i Know that the same thoughts and feelings are there and if i would like to go there i could and this may sound strange, but this was the life that i in a strange way wished for, i wished to to go into a certain place and think about life in certain ways and i got there and the only problem was/is that it lasted too long and i guess we’re never able to completely control what we wish for. it really doesn’t matter as like i said we seem to interpret and feel about photographs in very different ways no matter what the photographer is trying to say. maybe because photography as a language is not very exact one. what i tried to do here was to tell an extremely edited story about how i think things went or how life seemed to be and it’s great if some people feel it, but it’s also completely understandable if people do not feel it. i tried to edit this in a way that there would be even some sort of story line and tried to put them into a some sort of chronological order (don’t know if people see the order). i didn’t think about what people may feel about these and that’s also one of the key questions for me in photography. do i want to tell a story that possibly doesn’t make people feel, or do i want to take photos that make people feel but do not tell the story? i prefer the first one, but i also understand if people prefer the latter. don’t know if you even wanted an answer to your comment but i felt like i had to write something.
Jared I do smile sometimes when I look Some of these images and i understand what you’re saying. there are some that definitely do not make me laugh, but of course there are images that by time have turned into good things.
somebody was asking about the influences. during those years it was mainly d’Agata, old stuff by anders petersen, moriyama, donovan wylie, jim goldberg etc. my brother but not in photography.
Gordon. “y-bother” generation. hmmm.. perhaps if you’re speaking about photography as my goal is not to take photographs for the sake of humanity as in my opinion photography isn’t perhaps the the best way to help mankind in its problems. yes it can create awareness, but aren’t we already quite aware of these problems even without the photographs of these problems. and yes sometimes i had money to buy those trappings of middle-class (love those words) as i worked about two years in a one hour photo store. one layer of garbage. can’t say nothing to that one, but i did like your comment.
and i liked to read all of them so thank you everybody.
J
jukka!!!
out of breath,
you punch my heart again.
hope to see u soon.
Michael i put the black things there because of personal reasons, nothing to do with aesthetics. g.g. allin, i heard about the guy first time two about two years ago so he wasn’t an inspiration for me. interesting guy though.
Rafa cool to see you here! hope to see u too soonest.
JUKKA..thank you..and I think the stories that make people feel often come from this place that you work from..I want to write more, but gotta fly out the door at this moment!