One night as a photographer for the students in Stockholm attending the annual psychology congress in Sweden – PS13
The party committee are thrilled and running around making the lasts arrangements.
Students are starting to arrive and get ambushed by a over-enthusiastic photographer with the assignment to document their evening.
As part-time barrister I make friends with the staff in the kitchen – it’s always good for a photographer to know where I can get my coffe “the fix” for the evening… and also it’s hard not to make new friends while working.
“Hon har blommor i sitt hår…” (she has flowers in her hair) the guard is singing when I make my way between the lobby, preparing my kit, and heading towards the stairs to wait for my first model.
Where do I find the best light for portraits? I have one hour to figure out before the students sits down for dinner.
“Well, thank you – I guess ONE glass of champagne will just help me relax and do my work better..”
Students are discussing the past days lectures and exchanging experiences from their own hometowns. Now it’s starting to get crowded. With 600 psychology students in one building a reportage-photographer gets “itchy fingers” with all the emotions and interesting discussions going on.
How does a student from a small town close to Borås, the west of Sweden, analyze Stockholmers? What is most exciting during these days, to party with so many different people in the capital of Scandinavia or to discuss the theme of the congress “What are the boundaries?” when does “no” means just “NO” and not yes.
In both restrooms there’s a bowl with condoms. At the mens bathroom the bowl is empty within an hour. The girls are closing in on the bowl first later during the evening.
“Oh! I have to have a photo of you close to this bowl – you have such a nice green dress that combines well with the condoms…?”
“No, what will my mum say if she sees that picture on facebook!? ‘What did u this weekend!??'”
The waiter is standing by the window, waiting for the students to get settled for dinner. He’s giving me a strange look when I’m closing in with my camera – first I think he might dislike to have his picture being taken.
“I think I recognize u?”
“You do? From where? Do you buy your coffee at Espresso House?”
“You are Kiki, aren’t you?”
“I’m Nuno – from couchsurfing!”
It’s a couchsurfer I wrote with before I left for Uruguay this winter(!) he’s an architect trying his luck in Sweden and this is his first day at work. We never had time to meet before I left on my reportage-trip and now we’re working at the same event – life works in mysterious ways…
“Here you have my number, call me! Good luck tonight”
“What’s wrong with the dish?” The chef just have to pour of a bit of oil, he don’t have time to explain and then hands it back to Nuno again.