Keeping the faith

Keeping the faith

A new photobook captures the frenzy and serenity of sacred rituals across Asia
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A devotee channels the spirit of a tiger at Wat Bang Phra.
A man possessed by the spirit of a tiger storms through a crowd. Penitent Filipinos are nailed to the cross. Skewers pierce cheeks, swords slash tongues, and young men are scarred until their skin resembles that of a crocodile.
Dutch photojournalist Hans Kemp has devoted 17 years to capturing such scenes for his new photobook, covering a diverse range of religious ceremonies across Asia. The book -- Divine Encounters -- saw Kemp travelling to a dozen countries in search of vivid celebrations of faith, resulting in a 400-page collection of beautiful and sometimes startling images. Kemp's remarkable photos capture not only scenes of frenzy but zoom into the faces of the devout, showing them lost in pain, ecstasy or peaceful communion with their deity. While every shot is bursting with colour and spectacle, the narrative of the events -- detailed by Kemp in the introduction to each ceremony -- take the reader into the myths and history behind the strange and powerful rituals. Whether following his subjects into deep jungle or down an alley in an Asian metropolis, Kemp's anthropological journey highlights the meeting of ancient beliefs and modern societal development. Life spoke with Kemp to get insight on his spiritual stories.
What were the challenges of such an extensive project?
There are shamans and people apt at communicating with other realms in many cultures, but the challenge is of course to tell that story visually. The process of photographing all the events in the book took a long time for various reasons. Most of the events only take place once a year, so missing an event adds another year. Then there is the issue of expenses. Photographer's block and the vicissitudes of life also contributed to adding time to the entire project. Luckily I got inspired and managed to make a sprint for the finish with the initiation ritual in Papua New Guinea.
How did you get close enough to get such visceral images?
I'm a practitioner of the "fly on the wall" school of documentary photography. I try to be as close to my subject as possible without changing their behaviour, preferably without the subject noticing me. So when out photographing I familiarise myself with the subject and the surroundings as much as possible and at the same time let the subject "get used to me". Patience and respect are absolutely essential qualities, as is a non-judgmental mindset. The stories portrayed in Divine Encounters are intense, and the people are fully immersed in the ceremonies and rituals. So, even though I am in their face, they may not be aware of me, which of course is a great advantage.
Are you religious? Did your views inform the project?
Define religious. We could be talking the entire day. If you're talking about an organised structure, where a go-between like a priest claims exclusive possession of knowledge necessary for anyone who wishes to gain access to the Divine, I consider myself non-religious. On the other hand, if you are talking about the possibility of direct experience, count me in.
Which rituals did you find the most moving or disturbing?
I didn't find any ritual disturbing -- why would I? Intense, yes, and intensely human. Thank god for such a diversity and the opportunities I've been given to witness a part of this.
The Papua New Guinea scarification ceremony, where young men undergo a painful tribal initiation, is one of the most fascinating. Tell us more about that.
I had heard about the ceremony but had no specific leads other than there's a yearly "crocodile festival" in a town called Ambunti, on the Sepik River. I found a village where, later in the year, a ceremony would take place, and I secured permission from the leader of that ceremony to photograph the ritual. The initiation is an intense and extremely painful ritual and a very important event in the boys' life. I really wanted to do the entire ceremony justice by photographing as many aspects as I was allowed to, without sensationalising it and without forcing my own judgment on the story.
You cover the Wai Khru ceremony at Nakhon Pathom's Wat Bang Phra. It's quite a media circus these days, so how do you find a fresh angle for a story that's been extensively covered?
I photographed the Wai Khru at Wat Bang Phra on two different occasions before it became a tour-group attraction. These days it's hard to find an easily accessible event that is not some kind of media circus. I think it is important to approach these things with a clear goal in mind. Trying to tell the story as it happens, in a visually engaging way, so that those who are not present will be able to get a pretty good impression -- that's my aim.
Blood flows in many of the rituals. Why?
There's a lot of blood, but it's not flowing gratuitously. And most of it flows from self-inflicted wounds. There's a myriad of specific reasons. It could be a penance, it could be to avert the anger of a wrathful deity or to gain specific advantages in the material world, or it could be a means to eradicate the self.
When we are talking about communication with the Divine, even perhaps communion with the Divine, throughout history and throughout all cultures the greatest obstacle to man's quest towards realising the innately yet often lingering or even extremely obscured "kingdom of god" within, is the sense of self, the self as a separate entity. Self-mortification is a recurring theme on the path to union. All the mystics mention it.
Shamanic initiations, like the one I photographed in Mongolia, are also about dying and being reborn in the service of the tribe. It might be that this deeper essence is lost to most participants in the different rituals and ceremonies, as they might have deteriorated into mere symbolism, but I tend to think that that's where the origins can be found.
Is it accurate to say that the more violent behaviour is exhibited mostly by men?
I don't think that only men display this behaviour. In the opening chapter of my book, about the Kodungaloor Bahrani in Kerala, you see a lot of female oracles who draw their own blood by repeatedly hitting their head with a ceremonial sword. The male-female division of responsibilities in all these ceremonies is also a very interesting phenomenon. The ritual absolution I photographed in Japan can only be performed by a male Shin Otoko (Man of God). The Shamanic profession in Mongolia is taken up by both men and women, whereas by far the majority of shamans in Korea are female. Then again, in Myanmar the mediums called nat gadaws (or spirit brides) are often transgender. It's beautiful, isn't it? What does your sexual orientation have to do with seeking out the Divine anyway?
How did this project change your perception of Asia?
This project has given me hope, if I may use such a loaded word, that not all is lost in the claws and jaws of the beast of conformity. Though it has a ferocious appetite and its lure of money and power surely sucks in many, there are people in Asia, and I sense elsewhere too, not trapped and mauled to a homogenous muck. That is a reason to celebrate, if ever there was one.
Divine Encounters is available for 2,500 baht from select Thai book stores. A limited edition of 350 numbered and signed copies are housed in a special box with a gold-foil stamping of a Tiger Yant. To order this, visit hanskemp.com.
Hans Kemp

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