Prophets, Pharaohs and Gods

A photographic journey through Africa captures the illusions of the mentally ill.

By: Susan Van Dongen
   When French photographer Vincent Fougere visited the beach in Miami, Fla., he noticed a man standing by the water’s edge making grand, theatrical gestures with his arms. As days passed, he continued to observe the man, tanned but disheveled, arriving at about the same time, making the same movements. This went on for several days and prompted Mr. Fougere to ask the lifeguard what was going on, as well as capture the moment on film.
   "He thinks he’s Moses," the guard said. "He’s trying to part the sea."
   "The man really believed it," Mr. Fougere says. "That’s why I returned many times and made the pictures."
   The man had an obvious mental illness — probably schizophrenia — that Mr. Fougere recognized from photographing people all over the world with similar ailments. He had spent several years taking these pictures and was beginning to see parallels between the sick and homeless at different spots around the globe. It didn’t matter whether they were in New York, Calcutta or the West Coast of Africa — the behavior was very much the same, which puzzled Mr. Fougere.
   "This was my question," he says. "Many of the (sick people) were black and they seemed to have the same illness. I couldn’t believe it. No matter where I was, their comportment stayed the same. The difference is in the society, the way we care for them."

"Photograph
"Photograph Vincent Fougere traveled throughout Africa to take photographs of the mentally ill. Images such as the ones above and at left, taken in Mopti, Mali, in 1996, are a part of a new exhibit at the Woodrow Wilson School.

   Mr. Fougere traveled around the world and especially across West Africa photographing the seriously mentally ill from 1993 to 2001. The result is the exhibit Africa’s Lunatics, on view through March 21 at the Bernstein Gallery of the Woodrow Wilson School at Princeton University. The show was curated by Kate Somers, who first met Mr. Fougere at an exhibit of his rainforest landscapes and was fascinated by the African project.
   Originally, he had intended to put a show together of his images from all over the world, but for various reasons decided to focus on West Africa. He grew up in the Ivory Coast and recalls seeing emotionally disturbed people on the streets as a child. As a youngster, he also heard a fantastic body of stories about the "lunatics of Abidjan," in particular.
   "I was very close to African people growing up," Mr. Fougere says, speaking from a hotel room in Princeton where he was staying briefly, just before show’s opening. "In Abidjan we always saw lunatics walking or sleeping on the streets. There was a mystery about them. As kids we would always hear about ‘the crazy city.’ These people are part of the soul of the city."
   He explains that many West Africans are animistes, as he calls them in French, and adhere to ancient, earth-based spirituality.
   "They believe that they should allow the lunatics to remain alive, that they’re blessed by the gods and that it’s bad luck — an offense to the gods — to kill them," he says. "I found the same kind of idea in India with the Hindus, when I photographed people in Calcutta and Bombay.
   "Those people accept this (illness) as a lesson or passage into their next lives — and even think they’ve been incarnated into a higher level of consciousness. So if you’re mentally ill like this, you’re treated like a god. Even if you can’t talk, people come to consult you."
   The lengthy photojournalism project was intended to underscore the difficulties societies like those in West Africa have in caring for their disabled citizens. Many of these nations are struggling in the transition from undeveloped and communal to industrial and urban. Without proper clinical, fiscal or social resources, the mentally ill are often left alone to fend for themselves.
   Yet, Mr. Fougere recognized that the disabled homeless in the United States weren’t much better off than those in West Africa. To him, the homeless schizophrenic was commonplace in every city, whether Los Angeles or Dakar, Senegal.
   "In the U.S., you have a very modern country, a lot of technology," he says. "Your healthcare system is good, but it’s still never enough for the mentally ill, especially if they’re poor. America could do more for these people. I’ve seen so many people in the big cities with emotional illnesses."
   In fact, some of them might have it worse here, especially those in the urban areas of the north. One advantage to being mentally ill in an African country is that, for centuries, the extended family and community took care of their own, often with primitive understanding but great compassion.
   "These (mentally ill) people were poor, but no one was missing food," Mr. Fougere says.
   Even with his familiarity with the subject matter, Mr. Fougere says some of the people were difficult to get close to and frightened him with their frantic outbursts. After speaking to doctors about the behavior, he learned many of the people were terrorized by imaginary voices and hallucinations.
   "(It’s like) they’re infected with evil," he says. "This is why they get really scared and yell at you to get away. Again and again, with different people I’ve encountered, they’re seeing the same thing, the same horrible visions. On the other hand, sometimes they feel like they are God."
   Mr. Fougere witnessed a man who thought he was the prophet of the Apocalypse, attempting to walk on the water. Another man believed he was impervious to injury, so he frequently stood in the middle of busy streets with his back to traffic.
   "One portrait I made is a close-up of a man with a piercing eye and a headful of knotted hair," Mr. Fougere says. "He thought he was a pharaoh from the times of ancient Egypt. He has a beautiful mouth and this massive head, like a buffalo’s. That’s what you see in the picture. But if you were to pull back, you would see that’s he’s standing in garbage."
   Another shot shows a scene of men crammed into a tiny cell, grimacing faces pressed against the iron bars, hands reaching for help. Mr. Fougere took the picture in Guinea, at the notorious Donka Psychiatric Hospital in Conakry.
   "I had heard about this section of the hospital, and I specifically wanted to make a picture like that," he says. "What I saw was eight people in a really small place with no sanitation, eating only one meal a day. Many of them were very sick and there were children mixed in with adults."
   Mr. Fougere says the younger ones were not necessarily mentally ill but had been charged with doing drugs, inhaling a mixture of glue and gasoline, in particular. Apparently this was the secure holding place for teen-age "huffers" in Conakry.
   "When the cops pick them up, if their parents don’t have a lot of money for a lawyer or drug treatment, they’ll toss them in the (psychiatric) ward with men who are very ill," Mr. Fougere says. "They were all mixed together in this cell, jumping and screaming — and dirty. I took a lot of risks to make that picture. I was interrogated by (security) and the hospital director wanted to take my film."
   Mr. Fougere, also a noted fashion and landscape photographer, presented his work at the International Festival of Photojournalism in Perpignan, France, in 2001. Africa’s Lunatics established him as one of the best French photographers of 2001, and he became the youngest winner of the Golden Eye Award, the most prestigious award in French media.
   Although he says he doesn’t want to preach about the conditions of the mentally ill in West Africa, Mr. Fougere envisioned an overall project that, in its totality, would show the universality and otherworldly nature of the disabled.
   "They have the same thing to say and when you view them like this, you are reading something," he says. "I wanted to put them all together on the wall to learn from them."
Africa’s Lunatics, photographs by Vincent Fougere, is on view at the Bernstein Gallery, the Woodrow Wilson School, Princeton University, Washington Road and Prospect Avenue, Princeton, through March 21. Gallery hours: Mon.-Fri. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. For information, call (609) 258-5566.