Photographer Page

Nora Lorek

When war broke out in South Sudan, hundreds of thousands of people fled for Uganda, carrying their belongings in bedsheets. Photographer Nora Lorek took portraits of families against the backdrop of their bedsheet, and a selection was published in the May 2018 issue.

Along with drive-in movie theatres, Swedes can participate in virtual political events, livestreamed religious services, and drive-in concerts. People here are finding new ways to keep culture alive despite government restrictions, which still pale in comparison to much of the world.

Fifty Swedes, spread out in 24 cars, get ready to watch My Dad Marianne on a pier that typically hosts festivals with 18,000 attendees. Recent government restrictions forced movie theatres to close and limits gatherings to 50 people. Social distancing regulations in Sweden are paradoxical: only 50 people are allowed to congregate in large settings like this, but many more can squeeze into bars and restaurants.

Fredrik Flegar manages the bar at Pustervik, where his hours have been reduced by 80 percent due to the coronavirus pandemic. The concert venue had to cancel all shows, but in April, it hosted a virtual performance to raise funds. “First I was really worried, but after the virtual benefit concert we had here, I feel better,” says Flegar.

Viktoria Silander, a nurse at Eastern Hospital, tests potential COVID-19 patients. She says she’s been struggling to get her teenage children to follow social distancing rules. “Sometimes this feels a bit like a test, both for us and the next generation, to see how much we can handle,” she said. “So next time we are even better prepared.”

In early April, music hall Pustervik held a virtual benefit concert, raising more than £40,000. The money will help the venue support itself, after it had to cancel all of its bookings due to coronavirus.

Restaurant Tvinky, on typically bustling Second Long Street, is mostly empty. Because they’re not subsidised by the government, businesses like these have to keep things running to pay the rent and employees.

On an early April evening, Lisa Leander and Kristoffer Liljedahl watch a movie from their car at Gothenburg’s newly opened drive-in theatre. Sweden is attempting to navigate the coronavirus pandemic without a full lockdown. Liljedahl says Swedes are split on the pandemic: some go on with their lives, while others worry about what will happen.

Kim Christersson sips coffee while catching up with Isabel Andersson, the bartender at typically crammed Publik. New restrictions require bars to allow only as many patrons as they can seat. “It’s sad to see how so many friends in our industry are struggling these days,” says Andersson.

For five years, Lul Ali has run a shop called Horsed Beauty in eastern Gothenburg. Because of the coronavirus outbreak, she says she’s in danger of going bankrupt. Sales at the store in the past two weeks have been down 80 percent. “My son is working here and we’ve got another employee, but currently I don’t even know how to pay the rent,” she says. “I wish there was more help for small businesses from the government.”