The Budgie Died Instantly
Nik Roche is a Welsh-based photographer whose focus lies in exploring genuine narratives through extensive research of the chosen subjects. In his work, Nik researches the societal impact on individuals through the prism of intricate and complex stories. Nik started his career as a garden designer; at the point when he realized his interest in people and photography, he made a decision to change his profession and has recently enrolled in studies towards an MA in Documentary Photography at the University of South Wales.
The Budgie Dies Instantly is Nik Roche’s debut monograph, a 128 pages book, which is available in several print editions, in a limited 500 copies. The book is a part of the ongoing collaboration between Setanta Books and Open Doors. Nik illustrates his quest and goal as follows, “My role as a photographer seeks to offer alternative narratives and divert pre-conceptions.” Through researching communities often misrepresented, almost impossible to penetrate to tell the story from the insider’s point of view, Nik attempts to find an answer to whether hope exists and to what extent change is viable. The humanistic approach and the authentic concern allow portraying in significant manner problems and complexities discovered in the process of exploration of the other.
‘The people in my project have spent time in the care system as children and prison in adult life. Each time they are released from incarceration they return to the place they call home.’
Hi Nik, thank you for agreeing to discuss your new book, The Budgie Died Instantly, recently published by Setanta Books. Budgies are social birds, which live alongside humans, memorize an impressive vocabulary, and interact in communication. Budgies find themselves between the state of being caged and seldom moments of freedom. The bird is domesticated and appears in the book in the environment of the house; in contrast, the white doves are photographed flying. How do you think this mimics the community's life in your research?
When young, doves are caged and starved of food. They are fed sporadically until they associate the cage with food and, one may suppose, home. The next stage in their early learning is to raise the cage to a height where they begin to orientate themselves off landmarks. In this essay, a clock tower sat on top of the primary school next door to the birds. Soon they can be released and, because of what they have learned, they will return for food. Following this moment, they can be transported hundreds of miles but, upon release, they will return to the clock tower that they have learned to call home.
The people in my project have spent time in the care system as children and prison in adult life. Each time they are released from incarceration they return to the place they call home. Many are institutionalized. There appears to be a continuous cycle of capture, freedom, and returning to this place they call home. Not unlike the doves.
‘I met the protagonist by helping his dog. I did not know it at the time, but he had an extremely violent criminal past and lifelong incarceration.’
Tell about the community, the people you met, and how their daily lives unfolded to a coherent story you chose to present.
I met the protagonist by helping his dog. I did not know it at the time, but he had an extremely violent criminal past and lifelong incarceration. I began talking to him about his life whilst walking his dog. This, in turn, led to meeting the people closest to him, and, together, we explored how their lives connected.
The broader community was incidental rather than specific to this story. I met an aspect of a community, and the essay focused on this. This would typically be impenetrable but, because of our friendship, I was given access to and an insight into something which is very protected and tightly guarded. This work is not representative of the whole community. The people I met sit on the periphery of a community. The wider community embraces traditional values and connection with animals of a time gone by. These traditions are diminishing with each generation. The community as a whole looks out for each other with a strong sense of the importance of the family unit.
There is real tenderness for the animals who are part of their livelihood and are treated like family. The story unfolded in front of me but, in order to understand it, I needed to be a part of it. I got very close as I immersed myself with the people that I photographed. Some of the stories and the images would not have been possible without mutual understanding and trust.
‘There were several times where I really sensed everything was going to be ok, and these glimmers make me genuinely think there is the possibility of hope against adversity.’
There are intimate, tense moments captured inside the subjects’ homes when every attempt, or the lack of such, to communicate seems to increase hopelessness. What is the most memorable experience you can share connected to your encounter with people in the book?
There were many moments of warmth, love, and humanity offset with loss of life and suffering.
There were several times where I really sensed everything was going to be ok, and these glimmers make me genuinely think there is the possibility of hope against adversity. These are the elements I continue to look for in my work. Life can be difficult, not everyone is graced with opportunity. Given the chance, people can surprise you.
My role as a photographer seeks to offer alternative narratives and divert pre-conceptions. It is in the quiet and reflective moments that you sometimes find the unexpected. It is about finding calm in the chaos and, sometimes, it is the unremarkable that offers the most positive signs of resilience.
Some of the written stories that accompany the photographs have an aesthetic, which slightly resembles the atmosphere Bukowski masterfully created in his books. Which authors impacted you or left an indelible impression on you?
Hunter S. Thompson and his Gonzo journalism; energetic, participatory, long-form non-fiction writing style, particularly The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved. Bukowski is always inspirational. Also, Raymond Carver is integral to my thinking about storytelling. An ability to generate mental images with the minimum use of visceral words. Carver creates an awareness of people and the space around them. Writing more poetically can help violence become more readable, almost less aggressive which, in turn, allows you to read the words more easily, using the words to create their own images. Irvine Welsh is also great at this.
Jonathan Livingston Seagull, by Richard Bach, was also in mind throughout this work. The daily interactions and struggles mimicked that of the birds in lots of ways. Jonathan is bullied and ostracised. The seagulls and people I met had similar narratives.
How would you describe the story that connects the beginning, the middle, and the end of the narrative of the book?
A journey that began and ended with one person; everyone else I met was through him. It was a chance meeting, and the story did not end well for him or those around him. The idea of alternative endings is what motivates my continuous work.
I do not set out to tell a story, it unfolds in front of me, and I go wherever it takes me.
I am not looking for an ending, I'm just dropped in, at a point in someone's life, and I do my best to talk through this moment with them.
