Sweden, Gusbo / Kilafors
18th of december
The small platform is covered in snow, I jump of the train holding my dog in one hand and my bag in the other. Our footprints become the only ones as we walk along the snow-covered platform.
I have arrived to Kilafors, this is where I grew up. I jump into a car and there waits my dad. He has his reflective jacket on and next to him is the green knife case filled with the knives he uses for cutting meat. I recognize the case from my childhood, when my father stood there in the living room and took care of meat from the annual moose hunt.
It is the 18th of December and today I will experience a slaughter, two cows will be slaughtered.
On the farm in Gusbo, nearby the place I grew up in there are now three men, a tractor and on the ground: a dead cow. The three men, one of whom is my father, have started to take care of the body.
The man with red cap
One of the men stands facing the dead cow and with the knife in his hand he wipes his nose with his sleeve. He glances over his shoulder at me and says: ”so you’re going to make art out of this I’ve heard.” I immediately start to explain myself and in the middle of my sentence the cow is hoisted up in the air by the tractor and the man stop listening to me as he goes back into work. It becomes a concrete reminder that this moment is not about me or my art. It is and should be completely undisturbed by me.
The man I just spook to is wearing a red cap, when I look at the pictures afterwards, he reminds me a bit of my grandfather who used to wear caps in the same way. A little too high up on the head, a little too small, a little too narrow. He with the red hat is attending the slaughter for the first time. My dad and the farmer have done this several times.
Stomach cut open
The cow is now hanging from the tractor that drives over the blood-splattered snow to a bucket placed on the ground. With the body still hanging from the tractor, the farmer points to the cow’s belly: ”Here you cut. And it has to go fast”. The movements he makes when he instructs reminds me of a weather reporter, who shows with his whole hand, as if on a map, the right way the knife should be moved. The man with the red hat must now cut open the belly and it must be in the right place and at the right speed. The farmer continues: “if you don’t get it right, you might instead get it over yourself” And by that he means the inside, the content of the cows stomach. Then the farmer laughs, and my dad as well. The man in the red cap grabs the knife with a tightly clenched hand, as if he were about to stab the cow with all his strength.
It is his first time to do this and with my father on the right and the farmer on the left, he makes an attempt.
It goes wrong, and like a water-balloon poked with a needle, a part of a tubelike form gets stabbed by accident and starts to spray out grey-brown colored liquid. We are now treated with a terrible smell.
He tries again, a wet/slick rubbery round shape in a light shade of pink breaks and a brown soft mass of hay-like content are pushed out.
The rest of the content wells out with some help from the others. On the ground are now a pile of colors and forms.
When the inside of the cow has been emptied, they cut of the head and drag the skin with it. Carved out, you can now see the ribs from the inside of the body. I get a glimpse of it through the opening on the belly made by the man in the red cap. The farmer has to reach the inside to remove the last parts of fat, so my dad is now keeping the meat out of the way, reminding me of holding up curtains to look out from a window.
Hazy and blue
It’s a beautiful light outside and the cow is driven across the yard with the tractor, it has a scenography of hazy and blue behind it. It is slightly foggy, and cold, the sun is shining. Seeing the cow raised in the sky with this beautiful scenery, almost feels a little religious.
The tractor arrives to a garage-like room, the cow gets hung on a metal stand, with the farmer in the tractor, dad on a ladder and the man in the red hat on the floor. I notice that the body is smoking as the warm fleash meets the cold, a reminder that what I now see before me is an actual body, something that just lived.
Cow nr 1 done – time for nr 2
After the cow has been hung, it is time for the next one. The tractor reverses and heads back to where we started, the rest of us follow. Dad picks up the phone and mumbles that a lot of people are trying to reach him. His company and work in the film industry take up a large part of his life and he is basically on the job at all times, but it cannot take place here in this part of his life, so he quickly puts the phone away again. My mom calls me and asks how it’s going, and I say that it is a nice light outside today.
Next eye contact and preparation
The snow is stained with blood and the farmer, and my dad gets ready for the next cow and for the first time today dad emphasizes the importance of not being in the way. He tells me to keep a certain distance, the farmer who knows the cow from before will be the one who interacts the most, a way to avoid scaring the cow as much as possible. The man in the red hat takes his dogs out and we wait for him. I take a picture of the cow, standing by the fence in the stable. We get eye contact, deep and long. My heart rate increases, I have to put down the camera and focus on my breathing. I can feel how my body starts to shake and out of pure reflex I take a few steps back, I don’t know why.
bult gun
The tractor is reversing slowly out from the stable with the cow tied to it. Even though it looks a bit cruel this is the right way to go, if the men hold the cow in their own hands they could be harmed, in case the cow, strong as it is, tries to pull away. The tractor can provide a firm and strong grip that the hand of a human can’t. The tractor stopes, the farmer jumps out. A bolt gun that dad has prepared is given to the farmer, he makes sure it’s loaded. The cow is stressed but the farmer’s calm. My pulse is high, and it feels intense. Just as I think he’s going to pull the trigger he stopes and with one firm steady hand he gives the cow one last long pat along the body, warm and soft. With it, the time feels slower and quieter. I realize how the pat the cow is given also feel soothing to me, standing on the side with a high pulse, shaking, trying to take pictures.
A shot-sound goes off and the cow falls to the grown. It happens so quickly I almost feel like I missed it.
life leaves the body
Then it goes fast, a knife is stabbed into the throat to drain it of blood and the tractor lifts the cow into the air to drain it as quickly as possible. The cow splutters and twitches as the life leaves the body. I find it hard to look at, but I remind myself that it is already dead, as I have been reminded many times by my father from the rooster slaughters they do back home on our own farm. I keep it in mind.
moods
After a while, the now still cow is hoisted down. As it hits the ground and is being layed down on tree-logs the three men starts to work on different parts of the body. They start to remove the skin and the hooves are cut off. We have caught up to the step where I arrived at the last cow, I am starting to recognize what I see, but I see more details now. Above all, it is the skin that I see, the way it moves and is removed. It catches my attention, dangling in the air and pulled by the men. Hanging from the cow as if it was clothes hanged up to dry, the skin hits the grown and gets folded. I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking about the textile I see in my everyday life.
I notice the different moods that passes us. Now it is completely quiet, the sound created when I take pictures are the only once and now, they seem loud, in the way as they disturb the silence that has arisen.
A moment ago, the three men were standing next to each other talking, looking up on the hanging cow making sounds when it twitches in the air.
I continue to take photos even though the awareness of the sound makes me want to stop. The farmer and the man in red hat start talking. I don’t follow exactly what the conversation is about, but I think it has something to do with some order from Ikea they have to drive to the city to pick up. Arranging when and how as they stand leaning over the cow, cutting.
intact and solid
The cow is once again lifted into the air by the tractor, which drives it to the bucket placed in the snow. Now it must be emptied, and the head must come off. He in the red cap gets another try at cutting open the belly and this time, he succeeds. The shapes that come out are now different from last time, intact and solid. It now becomes clear to me how wrong it went last time.
Dad and the farmer try to remove the cow’s head, but it is difficult. I see the physical effort that goes into it. They are trying for a long time and with some laughs and increased breathing later, the head finally falls off.
Pits have been created in the snow under the hanging cow, made from the warm blood hitting the cold snow.
Then the cow gets moved across the farm to be hung along with the other on the metal stand. Now the man who is participating for the first time gets to try. Dad guides him and I stay, like the whole day, as little in the way as possible.
Awairness
When we are done it’s like I don’t remember how to not be in the way. I find myself quieter then usually. Moving according to the others, awair of their movements so that I can get out of their way.
My dad and I walk to the car, we say goodbye to the farmer and just as we are about to jump into the car my dad holds out his clenched hand and says, “I thought you might want these, for your art project I mean” he opens his hand and there lays two empty bullets from the bolt gun . I still keep them to this day, next to the hard drive with all the pictures I took.