Photographer Jana Sophia Nolle takes a new, collaborative and empathetic approach to photographing and working with San Francisco’s houseless population.

Roughly .17 percent of the United States population is homeless ( source: https://endhomelessness.org/), or, more humanly stated, “unhoused” or “houseless.” San Francisco is witness to the third-highest unhoused population in the country, recently increasing by 17%. (editors note: we originally incorrectly listed this as 12% of the United States + SF population. We apologize for the typo.) Income disparity, sky-high rental rates, limited affordable housing, and a struggling social services network all exacerbate this chronic issue.

No one wants to ignore the most vulnerable among us. Yet, most of us feel overwhelmed in addressing such a challenge and the complex issues that inform it. Artist-activist Jana Sophia Nolle recognizes that collective uncertainty in addressing houselessness, and how to support those for whom this is a lived experience. In 2017, Nolle initiated Living Room, a project in which the temporary structures of people who are unhoused were re-created and photographed in the living rooms of housed San Franciscans.

I met Nolle during a Photo Alliance portfolio review earlier this year. The interview that follows unpacks questions about the participants: how they were approached and the delicate ethical balance she managed in working with people at opposite ends of the wealth spectrum; questioning the assumptions or biases about what leads to houselessness, and what role contemporary art has in addressing these issues.

Roula Seikaly in conversation with Jana Sophia Nolle

Roula Seikaly: What was the motivation for this project?:

Jana Sophia Nolle: I came to San Francisco in 2016. Besides being a visual artist, my background is in political science and anthropology, and I’ve worked in this field for several years primarily in Asia or in Africa. I've seen a lot of poverty and houselessness and income inequality, lots of extremes. I've always been very interested in contrast. And I'm also thinking about my own background. I come from a middle-class German family and always had to get scholarships to go to school, or pay for other things that I want to do.

I was surprised about my own reaction, that I was so shocked to see such income inequality in a country as rich as America. I was fascinated, at the same time, seeing so many people camping on the street in all kinds of improvised dwellings. I thought, wow, it's so creative but forcefully creative. I started thinking about what I would do if I was without shelter or support, how I would survive. I thought about the beautiful San Francisco homes I’ve been invited to, and how space is accessed and used by those who are housed.

Without knowing that I would want to work on a project, I started talking to unhoused people. I learned about people in different communities, primarily in the Haight-Ashbury and SOMA district, who are houseless and what issues (addiction, mental health concerns, escaping physical and psychological abuse) impact these populations. I was curious about the structures as much as the people, so I asked for permission to take pictures of the structures and the materials they use to build them. My mind kept returning to extreme income disparity and living space, particularly living rooms, as a measure or metaphor for that disconnect.

There is a profound tension there.

After spending time with the people I met living on the street, I got involved with the Coalition on Homelessness. I wanted to support their campaigns and conduct my own research and over time, settled on an idea to bring those with so much and those with so little into the same physical and photographic space. It started with my friend’s family home in San Francisco, their living room. There were definitely reservations about doing this. Maybe they thought I was crazy for even trying, but ultimately they gave me permission to do it.

Seikaly: How many participants did you work with? I’m speaking of both the unhoused and housed participants.

Nolle: The photographs from Living Room document a series of 15 temporary unhoused shelters re-created and erected in various affluent living rooms in San Francisco. So, in total 15 unhoused people participated and around 30 housed (around 30 because most housed participants were couples or families). I talked to around 40-50 unhoused people, lots of them were interested in participating, however, I had trouble finding enough living rooms to include everyone who expressed interest.

Seikaly: How did you engage the housed participants you worked with?

Nolle: I found the first few through personal connections. From there, I asked them if they were happy with the experience, if they could tell their friends and neighbors about it, and if they were interested in participating. Starting in August 2017, I shared a letter I wrote that explained the project, who is involved, and what my hopes and goals are for the project. It took a year and a half of back and forth emails to explain what I proposed to do and how, and eventually housed participants invited me into their homes to for initial discussions. It was a very slow and challenging process, but worth it in the end.

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Seikaly: Did anyone say no to you?

Nolle: I actually had two situations where I was invited to visit and see the living room and I did think, oh, that's a great place. It would be perfect to do it here. And, I did my best to convince them. And then, they were saying, OK, nice to meet you. I will think about, I will get back to you via email. And then I received a no. One lady said it doesn't make me feel comfortable. I feel like it's too close. It's also I feel like it's a judgment about myself. She said she's afraid that someone could figure out where she lives in the city. Her response had me thinking about privacy, visibility vs. invisibility, public vs. private space, and how privilege informs all of that.

Seikaly: How did you approach the houseless participants you worked with?

Nolle: That was a bit easier. There were people I’d gotten to know over time. I’d ride my bike around San Francisco and ask people I encountered if I could talk with them. I explained the project and how I was approaching it, and over time, some of the people I spoke with trusted me enough to participate in the project. The conversations we had before and during the project helped me understand how different houselessness is for women and men, for families, for people in the LGBTQIA community as an example.

At some point, everyone I worked with talked about home as more than a physical shelter. It’s an expression of who we are and what we value. So, in working on this project, I wanted to capture the physicality of these structures as well as the objects that the participants collect and protect in spite of being without permanent or safe shelter.

Seikaly: Which participants come to mind when you think of objects or possessions?

Nolle: I think of a man named Keith and a woman named Viviane. He was in the same spot for over a year. As we started working together, I asked him to write about his structure. Eventually, all the houseless participants produced drawings or lists that detail their belongings and the materials they use to build structures. That’s all included in the book, and it provides commentary or insight that no one else can supply. Viviane lived near 16th and Florida in a structure made out of newspapers. If it rained, her shelter was destroyed, and she would have to start again. Where she was living never looked the same from one week to the next. I was, and still am, thinking about how fragile and impermanent these materials are, and how they are used to for protection from so many external forces.

Seikaly: How did you approach the compositional challenges of each image? Did you have the living room contents or a color or fabric in mind when thinking of which temporary shelters to construct in these spaces?

Nolle: I thought about staging, how to use space most effectively and made note of color schemes. I took cell phone pictures to use as notes. I thought about how much space I was allowed to use, if I could move furniture, how to capture the best light at certain times of day, and because I was working with film, how many exposures I afford to use. I thought about the living room and the temporary structures as sculptures in some kind of dialogue.

I also thought about living space as a gendered experience, as it was women housed participants that I mostly worked with, and how that differs for houseless participants. These are highly constructed images, in terms of the temporary structures erected in the living rooms and what of the living rooms – books, photos, art – I was allowed to include.

Portrait of Vivianne. © Jana Sophia Nolle

Seikaly: In our Photo Alliance portfolio review earlier this year, you said that you work with materials that match or closely match the materials that houseless participants use to build their shelters. Could you talk about that?

Nolle: My reconstructed shelters represent one version, as they can change hourly or daily. I knew early in the project that I couldn’t capture what every version looked like, and that I had to focus on matching as closely as I could primary materials. I focused on objects like shopping carts or any other means that participants use to move their belongings.

Sometimes, I traded original items for something else the participant wanted. Sometimes, I worked with participants to find similar materials that I could use. Like, with Viviane, she was set up across the street from a paper factory. She invited me to come back on a Thursday night after 7pm to look through what factory workers had discarded. So, taking food and water to give, I met her. It was such an experience to watch her pick out what she could use. In addition to food and water, I would show up with tarps or sleeping bags, something that they needed or wanted.

One incident I witnessed involved the Department of Public Works (DPW) workers. They had seen me with some of the houseless participants and knew what I was working on. This time, the supervisor told me I could take five more shots and then I had to move on. Memphys, a participant I worked with, asked me to go slow, hoping that DPW would lose interest and move on. It ended with DPW throwing his stuff away as we were trying to relocate Memphys to another location. This is how vulnerable people are treated. It was a disaster.

Seikaly: It’s cynical, but I’m wondering what impact if any this project would have on the different populations (housed and houseless) you worked with?

Nolle: In doing this project, I know that art or photography cannot solve the issues that can force someone to houslessness. This project can’t solve these problems. It can, I think, raise awareness and create dialogue and remind us that we are all humans and deserving of respect and dignity.

Seikaly: Did that hard knowledge affect how you approached the project organizationally and procedurally?,

Nolle: Definitely. From the beginning, I knew I didn’t belong to either world, housed or houseless, rich or poor. I feel like I was a mediator. When I built constructions in participants’ living rooms, the hosts were eager to know the personal stories of the houseless person whose materials I was working with and vice versa. The houseless people who I worked with were curious about the housed participant’s reactions to having their space taken over for this project. I started with a very small group of participants, housed and houseless. Once it started, I think the housed participants understood what I was trying to do, and they started talking to their friends. I think that direct experience made people who were already interested in getting involved somehow more empathetic. I think direct experience is key to that.

Living Room was included in the group exhibition "Don't Touch My Circles" at Catharine Clark Gallery in SF. The gallery collaborated with the nonprofit organization Lava Mae to produce a city-wide billboard campaign with one of the series’ images. The campaign raises awareness about houselessness and supports Lava Mae’s efforts. The second edition of Living Room is planned for 2020. 10% of each book sale will be donated to the nonprofit organization Lava Mae. Living Room will be exhibited at Paris Photo, at Galerie Joseph, November 7 - 10, 2019.

An Artist Builds (and photographs) Structures for the Houseless in Living Rooms of the Wealthy