The harsh Greenlandic landscape is a constant presence in Storch's photographs, and low, horizontal sunlight is present throughout. In one of Storch's photographs, an old man on a wooden porch turns his face towards the sun. In another, stunning image of two children lying on their backs, sunlight shines almost at odds, making one child's glasses opaque while leaving his friend's face in shadow. Looking at Storch's work, I was reminded of Emily Dickinson's reflections on “a certain slant of light, winter afternoons.” But Dickinson observed her world at a latitude of forty-two degrees. Sunlight means something completely different in photographs taken above or near the Arctic Circle, where midday can break through the darkness, depending on the season, and where golden hour can be a near-constant occurrence. Storch told me that sunsets in Greenland last much longer at this time of year: “Fiery and very slow. Colorful.”
From “Summer Will End Soon,” 2023.
From Guardians of the Ocean, 2019.
Storch grew up in Sisimiut, a city of about five and a half thousand people, and did not intend to become an artist. His father, a professional baker, sometimes asked him to do menial tasks in the kitchen. Storch washed pots to the sound of public radio, turning up the volume to drown out the sounds of traffic. In his free time, he liked to play music and build things, including paper airplanes, complete with special folds. He planned to become an engineer, but discovered an interest in photography while skateboarding and documenting his friends' tricks. In 2009, he organized a small photography exhibition at a local venue, whose director suggested he attend Fatamorgana, a photography school in Copenhagen. He entered there, then studied for another year at the International Center of Photography in New York.
