There is a Norse legend that when fallen Viking warriors ascend to Valhalla, their weapons turn into the luminous Northern Lights to forever remind mortals of their glory. And since, men have chased the stage-shy Aurora to the ends of the earth, waiting for days in the chilling cold to catch a glimpse of them when the sky bursts into life.
“I never expected it to be this difficult to shoot the Lights, although there are guidelines that announce when they are likely to be more intense,” says award-winning advertising photographer Sharad Haksar, seated in his trophy-lined studio in Chennai. “Iceland’s beauty is so staggering that it is besieged by photographers. And, despite the brutal winters, there are tours to places that amplify this country’s loveliness, with people spending hours in the open trying to capture it on camera.”
Haksar, who journeyed to Iceland last March, with the sole aim of photographing vignettes of its landscape, travelled across eight towns over two weeks. “We landed in the capital Reykjavik, and journeyed along the coast in a cab, touching Iceland’s southernmost town Vik, which stands near the active volcano Katla, and is the country’s wettest coastal town. From there, we drove east to Jökulsárlón, the glacial lake, and then circumnavigated the island. For hours on end, we hardly saw another vehicle, and some of these towns are populated by only 40 people. Roads to the interiors were ice-bound and the winds raged, but every time we were caught in a blizzard, rescue was almost immediate,” says Haksar. Which is how he came to heft his camera and equipment across the land that has featured in films from Bond to Batman, and capture waterfalls freezing as they cascade down jagged cliffs; a World War II vintage plane that had crash-landed on a silver moonscape; snow-covered black hills that appear like charcoal sketches; swathes of green Aurora lights like velvet curtains; a grey mural of Ingrid Bergman on an abandoned theatre wall framed by rocks in the foreground; and open vistas of pink-and-blue skies that stimulate the senses.
“Iceland is just a flight away from mainland Europe, but it has largely remained fortified against a standardised culture. People are friendly and there is a strong connect and pride in their environment. Which is why, despite the weather reworking the backdrop every day, there is always someone willing to guide you around this place.”
Haksar, who scouts around locations for hours and waits for the perfect shot, is not the trigger-happy kind. He shot about 30 frames on his Nikon D800E, some at midnight, and did a couple of time-lapse pictures as well. Of these, four were nominated in the Nature and one in the Fine Art category for the International Color Awards. The U.S.-based awards that celebrate the unusual capture of colour are open to professionals and amateurs, and see nearly 5,000 entries every year.
The pictures that won Haksar his nominations are of waves shuddering against the black volcanic sand strewn across the beaches of the Atlantic coast, the sea nymph-like rocks rising from the ocean in mono-chrome splendour; blue-icebergs of the Jökulsárlón resting like broken shards of crystal on the seashore in three frames — filled with the rush of dark menacing clouds across the horizon and the faint sunbeams that stab the sea; and the lone red church behind a leafless tree and a screen of falling snow dust.
“It was a lesson in patience — the trek to the ice caves took over two hours, and getting the picture I wanted, five. But the big reveal is that the landscape is so surreal,” says Haksar, who will soon exchange his memories of salt-sprayed coastal roads and the Viking spirit for the charms of Croatia.
