On a lovely sunny afternoon I went to a crematorium on behalf of one of my projects for university. I was rather nervous as I wasn't sure what to expect nor how the experience would effect me (after all I haven't seen this before, even though I had an idea. My grandparents were cremated here and I also wasn't sure whether this would hit me).
So, I set off in my KA with a ready loaded hasselblad. I pulled up and stepped into the office where I met a lovely lady who I had been contacting. She told me to go to the chapel where I would meet a man called Richard who was the crematorium technician, he wasn't at all what I was expecting, but then again I wasn't sure what I was expecting. After photographing the chapel and the waiting room he led me down to the crematorium at which point he asked me "are you squeamish?" I was pretty sure I wasn't going to see any blood or hideous wounds so I replied "It depends what I see, but I'm sure I'l be fine." He smiled.
From the chapel was a door that led down some stairs, my heart was beating but my nerves were steady. He opened a further door and in front of me was a large mass of metal and an open room, with light flooding through the open door. Richard explained that the large mass of metal were the cremation chambers. This is where they went in. He took me around the corner of them and showed me the other side, the side where they came out. There was a little peep hole for you to see the progress. I saw two bodies. The first I've seen. I was welcome to photograph one of the bodies, which I did (as long as no name plate was included). The technician ran through all the ins and outs of the process, how it was done and for how long.
The average person takes an hour and a half.
I never realised that they don't come out as ashes straight away.
To try and put it nicely, the bones.. they are grounded into ashes.. in what looks like a tumble dryer.
I went around photographing what I pleased within reason obviously.
Whilst I was there a funeral procession arrived and departed within a short few minutes. This was seen on a little TV that sits in the corner of the room. Then a buzzer sounded. This was their queue. I was allowed to photograph this, I needed to be ruthless, I had the camera at the ready. The coffin was lowered, where the technicians received it and quickly carted it onto a trolley, and within seconds this lovely coffin was in the burning hot furnace. They put the trolley back where the rollers were still spinning. I couldn't help but look at them, pause and feel some sympathy.
Whilst I was there I saw the records for my grandparents. I saw the chamber she would have gone in. My grandmother went into chamber 2. She was the average person, apparently.
Anyway, the time came when I had no more film and as I was leaving another service started, I saw the coffin carried in and the song "Its just the two of us, we can make it if we try, just the two of us, you and I" played as they proceeded. This made me smile.
This day was a peculiar one. I didn't know what to take from it. It is all a fact of life. It happens, and one day it will happen to you and me.
