4:25 am - February 12, 2025
The Untimely Death of a Visionary: Ernest Cole’s Bittersweet Legacy
Ernest Cole, a pioneering South African photographer, found himself in a poignant paradox as his life drew to a close. Lying in a hospital bed in Manhattan, New York, he witnessed the dawn of a new era for his homeland. On February 11, 1990, Nelson Mandela, the iconic anti-apartheid leader, walked free from prison, marking the beginning of South Africa’s journey toward liberation. Yet, for Cole, this moment of hope was overshadowed by his own impending death. Just a week later, on February 18, he succumbed to pancreatic cancer at the age of 49, leaving behind a legacy that was both profound and unfinished. His death, though tragic, became a catalyst for the rediscovery of his work, ensuring that his contributions to the world of photography and social justice would not be forgotten.
Ernest Cole: The Chronicler of Apartheid
Cole’s most renowned work, House of Bondage, published in 1967, stands as a searing exposé of South Africa’s apartheid regime. Through his lens, the world glimpsed the harsh realities faced by Black South Africans in mines, compounds, and townships. The photographs were raw, unflinching, and deeply human, offering a window into a system of oppression that had long been hidden from international view. The book’s impact was immediate, yet it was banned in South Africa soon after its release. This act of censorship only amplified its significance, cementing Cole’s reputation as a courageous documentarian. His work not only indicted the apartheid regime but also gave voice to the voiceless, making him a target for authorities. By 1966, facing arrest, Cole made the difficult decision to flee South Africa, leaving behind the only home he had ever known. He resettled in the United States, carrying with him the negatives of his life’s work, but the chapter that followed would be anything but smooth.
Exile and Struggle: Cole’s Years in America
In the United States, Cole’s story took a turn that few could have anticipated. Though he continued to photograph, his work never reached the same acclaim as House of Bondage. The Ford Foundation, which had initially supported his efforts to document Black life in America, imposed constraints on his projects, limiting him to themes of race and inequality. This pigeonholing frustrated Cole, who yearned to explore other aspects of photography. His images of life in Harlem and the Jim Crow South were powerful, yet they were often overshadowed by the expectations of his patrons. Many of his peers dismissed his American work as less impactful than his South African photography, a critique that stung deeply. Despite his efforts, Cole found himself struggling both financially and creatively. By the early 1970s, his once-promising career had stalled, and he faced periods of poverty and homelessness on the same streets he had once photographed. For years, he set aside his camera, his spirit broken by the challenges of exile. His story seemed to fade into obscurity, until a remarkable discovery decades later breathed new life into his legacy.
Rediscovery and Rebirth: Unearthing Cole’s Lost Archive
In 2017, a mysterious turn of events brought Ernest Cole’s work back into the spotlight. A Swedish bank contacted his nephew, Leslie Matlaisane, informing him of three safety deposit boxes containing approximately 60,000 negatives, along with notes and contact sheets. These boxes, which had been in storage for decades, held the key to understanding Cole’s later years in America. The discovery was nothing short of miraculous, offering a second chapter to a life that had been prematurely reduced to a few lines in an obituary. Among the images were powerful depictions of life in America, from the vibrant streets of Harlem to the grinding poverty of the rural South. These photographs, coupled with Cole’s personal writings, revealed a man grappling with the complexities of exile and the weight of his past. Filmmaker Raoul Peck, drawn to Cole’s story, saw an opportunity to not only preserve his legacy but also to challenge the narratives that had overshadowed his later work. Peck’s documentary, Ernest Cole: Lost and Found, premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in 2019, followed by a U.S. release later that year, introducing Cole’s work to a new generation of audiences.
Raoul Peck and the Reclamation of Cole’s Voice
Raoul Peck, an Oscar-nominated filmmaker known for his nuanced portrayals of Black historical figures, was the perfect steward of Cole’s story. Peck’s connection to Cole’s experience of exile was deeply personal. Born in Haiti in 1953, Peck spent much of his life navigating multiple identities, living in the Democratic Republic of Congo, France, Germany, and the United States. This shared understanding of displacement and the struggles of belonging gave Peck a unique perspective on Cole’s life. Determined to center Cole’s own voice in the narrative, Peck crafted a screenplay based on the photographer’s diaries and letters. Actor LaKeith Stanfield was chosen to narrate the film, bringing Cole’s words to life with a raw authenticity that resonated deeply. The collaboration was both a creative and emotional journey, with Peck and Stanfield forming a bond over their shared love of photography and their admiration for Cole’s resilience. The film, along with a companion book titled Ernest Cole: The True America, published by Aperture in 2020, shed new light on Cole’s American work, challenging the notion that his best days were behind him when he left South Africa.
A Legacy of Resilience: Ernest Cole’s Enduring Impact
Ernest Cole’s story is one of both brilliance and heartbreak, a testament to the enduring power of art to challenge injustice. While he may have felt that his time in America was marked by failure and disintegration, the rediscovery of his archive tells a different story—one of resilience and unwavering commitment to his craft. Through Peck’s lens, Cole emerges not as a tragic figure but as a complex and deeply human artist, whose work continues to resonate with audiences today. His photographs from both South Africa and America remind us of the interconnectedness of struggles across borders and the universal fight for dignity and justice. Though Cole’s life was cut short, his legacy endures, a reminder that even in exile, one’s voice can still be heard, still be seen, and still inspire change. As Peck so poignantly captures in Ernest Cole: Lost and Found, Cole’s story is not one of endings but of new beginnings, a testament to the enduring power of art to transcend time and circumstance.