Numerous media reports have recounted instances where cell phones, umbrellas, and drills were mistaken for firearms – tragic situations in which innocent victims, predominantly men of color, were assassinated by the police. These deaths are part of a larger, invisible yet racialized pact, a societal division that marches on collectively, as though nothing has happened. For photographer Ernest Cole (1940-1990), this scenario is tragically familiar: a camera in hand was often enough to place his life at risk, and should he be “misidentified,” his humanity would be sacrificed by a system where a white minority had, for over four decades, institutionalized a regime of social and political segregation.

Documenting the violence of apartheid in South Africa during the 1950s and 1960s, Cole’s work serves as a reminder of how closely intertwined military and photographic technologies are. In both actions – shooting a person and taking a photograph – one can see the similarities in the engineering of impact, whether triggering an explosive or activating a camera’s shutter. It was this system of political and visual segregation that forced Cole into exile in the United States in 1966, carrying with him his photographic negatives. Permanently banned from his homeland, Cole settled in New York, where he organized his writings and photographic accounts in the first person. These accounts were divided into fourteen chapters, such as “The Mines,” “Nightmare Rides,” “For Whites Only,” “Education for Servitude,” “Heirs of Poverty,” “The Consolation of Religion,” and “African Middle Class.” It was there that he published one of the first works to expose the injustices of apartheid to the world: House of Bondage (1967).

Originally created as a photobook, House of Bondage spread to diverse audiences through the tactile experience of turning its pages and the attentive gaze upon the images contained within. Readers could follow the book’s narrative structure or skip to specific chapters, such as the ones already mentioned. However, as Cole’s photography began circulating in exhibitions, his photographic testimony reached a new audience. Instead of touching the book, now the viewer’s body must move closer to the photographs hanging on the wall, transferring the sensitivity from the hands to the eyes, keenly attuned to the exhibition space. Also, the linear narrative of chapters is replaced by a carefully curated selection and organization of key moments captured by the photographer.