Sorbonne Artgallery

"I started this series of images in Rwanda, but I thought of the year 1994, and its relations between this country and South Africa over a period of ten or twenty years. I noticed that the children , especially in South Africa, don't carry the same historical baggage as their parents did. I find their engagement in the world refreshing in that they're not so burdened with the past, but at the same time you see them grow with some "liberation narratives" that are obviously, in some way, a fabrication. It's almost as if you know something they don't about the potential failures or flaws of those guiding narratives. Most of the photographs in this book were taken in villages in Rwanda and South Africa. There is a very fine line between a nature considered idyllic and a place where terrible things can happen, steeped in genocide - a constantly contested space As a metaphor , it's as if the further away you get from the city and its control systems, the more primitive things become. Sometimes children seem conservative, living in an orderly world; at other times there's something wild about them, like in William Golding's Lord of the Flies: A Place With No Rules. This is particularly visible in the images from Rwanda, where clothing donated by Europe, with particular cultural meanings, is transposed into a completely different context. Being a parent myself has radically changed the way I view children. The challenge is to achieve non-sentimental images. The act of photographing a child is so different - and in many ways much more difficult - than portraying an adult. The normal power dynamic between photographer and subject is subtly altered. I looked for children who already seemed to have well-formed personalities. There is an honesty and frankness that cannot be evoked otherwise." 

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"I happened to start this series of images in Rwanda, but I have been thinking about the year 1994 in relation to both that country and South Africa over a period of ten or twenty years. I noticed how children, particularly in South Africa, do not carry the same historical baggage as their parents. I find their engagement with the world to be refreshing in that they are not so burdened by the past, but at the same time one witnesses them growing up with certain 'liberation narratives' that are obviously in some ways a fabrication. It's almost like you know something they don't about the potential failures or possible shortcomings of these guiding narratives. Most of the photographs in this book were taken in villages throughout Rwanda and South Africa. There is a very thin line between nature being seen as idyllic, while at the same time as a place where terrible things can happen, permeated by genocide – a constantly contested space. Seen as a metaphor, it is as if the further you lea ve the city and its systems of control, the more primal things become. At times the children appear conservative, existing in an orderly world; at other times there's something feral about them, as in William Golding's Lord of the Flies: A place devoid of rules. This is most noticeable in the Rwanda images where clothes donated from Europe, with particular cultural significations, are transposed into a completely other context. Being a parent myself has dramatically brought about a shift as to how I look at children. The challenge is to make unsentimental pictures. The act of photographing a child is so different – and in many ways much more difficult – than taking a portrait of an adult. The normal power dynamic between photographer and subject is subtly shifted. I searched for children who already seemed to have fully formed personalities. There is an honesty and a forthrightness which cannot otherwise be evoked."

Pieter Hugo