{‘Was it a woman who bit off his ear?’: the untamed life and calm photography of Tom Sandberg|‘Did a woman bite off his ear?’: exploring the paradoxical life and peaceful art of Tom Sandberg|The Duality of Tom Sandberg: A Turbulent Life and Contemplative Photography.
Norway has rarely looked as wet as in the pictures of the late Tom Sandberg. There are shots of mist and pools, of asphalt slick with mizzle. A ripple of water appears to have a gap in it, a figure looms behind a rain-streaked window, a gutter glows after a deluge.
Captured in either bold contrast of light and dark or soft orchestrations of greys, these are photographs with the ability to make the everyday seem surreal. But they are also elevating, in a perplexing kind of way, like being told to prepare for sun even when the skies are dark.
Sandberg, as a new exhibition at an art institution next to the Oslo fjord makes clear, was not only Norway’s most famous photographer, pivotal in making the art form a serious art form in the Scandinavian region during the 1980s and 1990s. He was also a seemingly contradictory character: wild-living, erratic, with a propensity for fueling his own reputation with his tongue firmly in his cheek – and yet capable to produce compositions that are reflective, calming and uplifting.
The Photographer's Journey: Four Decades of Work
Encompassing four ten-year periods, from early work taken in the mid-1970s through to pictures made shortly before his death in 2014, Tom Sandberg: Vibrant World is the initial major Sandberg show since his passing at the age of 60. The setting is appropriate: Sandberg was once the resident photographer at the institution, photographing art installations in its galleries and making closely cropped, greatly magnified, black and white portraits of visiting luminaries, including the composer John Cage and the artist Christo. They are detailed in their study of lined, coarse skin.
He was born in 1953 in the town of Narvik on the coast of northern Norway. The family afterwards moved to Oslo, where Tom’s father worked as a photojournalist. “His father brought him to the darkroom for the first time and exposed Tom’s hand on the photo paper. He said he was immediately enchanted by that alchemical wonder and never looked back,” recalls an art historian and long-time friend.
After his father abandoned the family, Sandberg helped his mother care for his sister in a rough suburb of the city. In the mid 1970s, he studied photography at a university in England, where he was mentored by the American photographer Minor White.
Sandberg considered the darkroom process, in which he worked with materials and retouching, to be a critical part of photography. And, as his work developed, his prints became bigger, almost film-like. A noirish interior of a lounge at an airport could be a movie frame from a European art-house feature.
Contradictions of Character: Social Butterfly and Restless Soul
He returned to Oslo in the late 1970s, and began partnering with printers and designers. Though he developed an interest in serene compositions, his social life was anything but ascetic.
“Tom had a enormous social appetite. When he went in a taxi, he’d make friends with the taxi driver. He was friends with Norway’s crown princess,” says a close associate. “He had a great need and capacity for having people around him. I think that unrest is the shadow side of that energy. And that, in a sense, his work calmed that unrest.”
The associate recalls how Sandberg had a particular connection with young photographers who sought to learn his “wizard darkroom skills” and painstaking editing process, an time-honored precise, instinctive and deliberate way of working.
A former assistant and co-curator of the exhibition remembers his unruly moments as well as his productivity. “He was a untamed soul,” he says. “He was one of those guys with a wry smile. He didn’t take himself seriously but he took his work extremely seriously. It was how he processed life’s issues.” Sandberg had issues with alcohol and substance abuse. “He would occasionally go on binges.”
Sandberg allegedly say that “if it weren’t for photography he’d probably come to ruin.” Tales spread around him. “If you look at his ear in portraits, part of it is missing. And how did that happen? I think he loved creating legends. Like, was it a woman who bit off his ear? That kind of stuff,” says the former assistant. “He would tell interviewers that he dreamt in black and white.”
Although Sandberg’s compulsive methodology, poetic sensibility and minimalist subject matter implies a modernist lone wolf – his photographs often feature single figures with their back turned to the camera – he was no loner. “He was observed by everyone he brought into his world,” notes the assistant. “And he had a drive and intuition that rumbled on like a truck without brakes.”
A Personal Lens: Father, Daughter, and Legacy
“I don’t think he was simple. He was a multifaceted person,” his daughter, who has been at the helm her father’s archive for more than a decade, explains. “He was a very witty person and magnetic. But not always easy to be with.”
How was he as a father? “He was always very guardian-like of me when I was a child. We had many different chapters as well. And I chose to live with him when he was going through the best time of his life,” she says. She sees the photographs he took of her as a form of self-reflection. “I think he saw a lot of himself in me.”
She recalls how her father would take his camera bag with him wherever he went. “To go from our house to the tram it could take anywhere from 10 minutes to two hours. He was taking pictures of me, the street, the sky, the ground. He just saw moments he wanted to seize.” That immersion with his subjects and surroundings extended to his friendships, as recalled by a close colleague: “Being in his company felt like the sun was shining on you.”
There were some stretches of sharpness and abstinence. In his lifetime, he saw notable success, including a solo show at a major New York museum in 2007, and his legacy continues to increase. The current exhibition includes Sandberg works on loan from renowned national and private collections.
The exhibition includes just one photograph of the man himself: a self-image taken in 2001, in which Sandberg is seen sitting in an armchair in an empty room. He looks like a watchman. The man you wouldn’t notice.
{Tom Sandberg: Vibrant World is on view at a major kunstsenter in Oslo until March 2026.|The exhibition Tom Sandberg: Vibrant World continues its run through early 2026.|Visitors