For the past four and a half years I have been fortunate to volunteer my time photographing the remarkable chimpazees at the Fauna Sanctuary outside Montreal. This extraordinary place is home to 14 chimpanzees, 3 monkeys and a menagerie of rescued farm animals. The chimps and monkeys have, for the most part, arrived here from research labs, zoos or the entertainment industry. Because of humans, they no longer live a free and natural life in the wilderness and are reliant on caregivers in sanctuary to tend to their needs.

Chimpanzees are large, wild animals with tremendous strength and intelligence. After spending more than 20 years alone in a small lab cage, enduring endless medical procedures, no individual could emerge without physical and psychological scars. So it is for these chimpanzees. They live with their pain, with their memories; saddled with demons and struggling with illness. They are courageous souls who have had to develop new life skills, adapt to unnatural environments and learn to trust, or at the very least, rely on humans–the fellow primates responsible for their lives in captivity.

I am honoured that most days they allow me to photograph them. Believe me when I tell you if they do not want their picture taken, it does not get taken. They walk away, turn their heads, hide, or use more emphatical means to discourage my attention. They communicate very clearly to me–this is their choice.

As a photographer and story-teller, it is my responsibility to portray them with the dignity they deserve and I seek to reveal their remarkable personalities, their complex relationships and deep emotions. My objective is always to tell their story in a truthful and respectful manner.

Frankly, I am awed in their presence. They can just as easily disrupt as inspire my creative process! I am humbled when I am with them. I learn so much from the compassionate caregivers who try to make their lives easier and more enjoyable, allowing them to make decisions–choosing where they wander, who they spend time with, what they eat…always trying to provide them with choices.

On Chimpanzees and Cages…

Let’s be perfectly clear; these chimpanzees did not choose to live this way. This is our doing. Our choice. When I have an image posted of one of these sentient beings living at Fauna and I read comments that some people dislikes or would prefer not to see the “cages” or the “bars,” it bothers me for several reasons.

To begin with, the chimpanzees at Fauna do not live in “cages.”

These are the cages many of them once lived in. This is an actual cell from LEMSIP that now sits in the woods on the Fauna property, out of sight of the chimpanzees, but very much present to anyone working or visiting the property. These were the bars they once lived behind…

…these are the cages, that thankfully for these fourteen chimps, have been left behind.

Their living space at Fauna is enclosed, absolutely, with electric wire, metal bars, locked doors, concrete walls, and even a moat. But they have acres of land, both inside their Chimphouse with its enormous ceilings and bright, unbarred windows, as well as on the acres of islands dotted with treehouses, hammocks and climbing structures. Elevated above the islands and leading away from the house are iron skywalks with canvas covers and see-through windshields in inclimate weather. The chimps can walk around outside, find quiet places to nap or be with friends while still enjoying some protection from rain and wind.

However, they need to stay safe. Their caregivers need to stay safe. So, they need to be enclosed.

Above: There is always available bedding to build night nests in the windows of the Chimphoue. Below: Island structures and outside skywalks.

So, why is it that we do not want to see the metal? Do we feel less guilty seeing them without the bars? We are so privileged to give witness to their lives–an opportunity that should never have been afforded us–should we not accept the terms that we created for them as they live this life they did not choose? To me, with or without the bars, they are the same remarkable, powerful, thoughtful and emotional chimpanzees. This is who I see. This is who I photograph.

When you are looking at one my photos of the Fauna chimps, you are seeing what I choose to show you. I make an emotional and creative decision. Of course I like to see the chimpanzees without obstacles in front of their beautiful faces. I push my skills to discover better techniques for creating images that will make the bars “disappear.” The work is very difficult and long with far more failure than success. But when they choose to co-operate, I feel they have offered me a great gift and that I must not let them down.

I do this work because I want to represent them and to help tell their stories. For these chimpanzees, their lives, their stories — past and present — take place behind bars. That will not change. Be mindful that as a photographer I am creating an image–making a moment. Regardless of what I choose to show you in my photos, make no mistake; the enclosures — the bars — they are always present…but lets all remember why they are there.

For these fourteen chimpanzees, thankfully, their home is no longer a cage. But there will always be locks, electrical wire and bars. Perhaps we can all look a little harder to see past them.

All photos © NJ Wight

Thank you Gloria Grow for all that you do and for inviting me into this world. I am forever grateful.

You can support the Fauna chimps by visiting www.faunafoundation.org.

95% Chimp

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