Discarded Memories. Hidden Stories.
What could a faceless photograph tell you? A lot, surprisingly.
At the “Gulu Real Art Studio” in Northern Uganda, a small trash bin once held a treasure trove of untold stories. Yes, a trash bin. This studio, the oldest in Gulu, produced ID photos on an analog machine originally meant to create four images at once. But most clients couldn’t afford that many pictures. Instead, a single photo was taken, the head punched out for the ID, and the remnants discarded. Tossed aside, yet rich with meaning.
These discarded prints were captivating. Without faces, the focus shifted—the way someone crossed their arms, the texture of their clothes, the slight tilt of their shoulders. Together, they formed a visual symphony—a typology of a community, one posture at a time.
And then there was the story beyond the photograph. Martina Bacigalupo, the creator of this compelling collection, didn’t stop at the images. She sat with the clients of Gulu Real Art Studio, listening to their voices, their struggles, their dreams. Many of their stories were gut-wrenching, testimonies to the political, economic, and social choices shaping life in contemporary East Africa. Resilient, poignant, human.
I had the privilege of designing this book while working at Steidl publishers. It wasn’t just about pictures; it was about heartbeats, moments, and reflections of a place rarely seen through such a lens. The result was a book that threaded together art, community, and history, all spilling out from a little trash bin in Gulu.
What do you see when you look at these photographs?
