I Turn Toward
the Avoided

I grew up in an unstable environment shaped by alcoholism and people living on the margins of society. From a young age, I learned to read faces. To sense tension, vulnerability, and danger without explanation.

I’m drawn to what feels awkward and human, and I photograph the strange because that is where beauty feels alive

The people around me were characters shaped by survival. One-percent bikers moved through the same spaces, men living by their own codes, slightly misaligned with the world around them. My mother moved easily among them, close friends with the president of the Hells Angels in Norway. Their faces stayed with me long before I understood photography.

At fifteen, I went into the streets of Oslo and photographed people. One of the first was a man living on the edge of society. I photographed him because his strangeness felt beautiful to me. Moments later, he chased me down the street. Fear surged. Adrenaline followed. It felt cinematic.

The people I photograph live close to the edge, like characters from the Coen brothers’ Fargo, inhabiting a reality that follows its own strange logic.

From the Ukraine Project

This artwork forms part of a wider photographic art project.

Instinct
and the
Human Face

I work on instinct. I’m drawn to faces with character, to people who look different, and don’t care much for convention. Perfection doesn’t interest me.

A man with short dark hair and blue eyes taking a selfie against a light-colored wall, wearing a black athletic shirt.
A man with short dark hair and blue eyes taking a selfie against a light-colored wall, wearing a black athletic shirt.

Vidar Korneliussen, AKA Tyheim
Kharkiv, Ukraine - July 2026

Q + A

  • I know almost immediately. It can be something in a face, a gesture, the way someone carries themselves, or simply a presence I can’t ignore.

    I’m drawn to people who carry something visible: strangeness, tension, vulnerability, defiance.

    For me, the face is a testimony. Life leaves traces there, and those traces are often far more interesting than anything polished or controlled. When I see that in someone, I want to get close enough to photograph it.

  • I often find myself alone, photographing people on the fringes of society, those living in unstable or volatile circumstances. These situations can quickly turn unpredictable. Some of the people I meet may be armed or involved in criminal environments. But I’ve learned how to read people.

    That ability has its roots in my childhood. I grew up around unpredictable personalities, and over time I developed a natural instinct for sensing shifts in mood, intention, and energy. It’s not about being fearless. It’s about being aware and respectful. I know when and how to speak, when to listen, and when to step back. In the end, I often manage to connect with those others struggle to approach.

    That awareness has helped me defuse tension, avoid escalation, and walk away from encounters that could have gone very differently. It’s a survival skill, but also a key part of what allows me to get close.

  • Absolutely. I have a deep fascination with the Coen brothers and the strange, unforgettable characters that inhabit their films. Fargo, both the original film and the series, has been a particular influence.

    I’m drawn to people who feel slightly out of place, eccentric, unpredictable, or impossible to define. Faces that suggest there is more going on beneath the surface.

    That follows me into the street. I’m not trying to create characters with my camera. I’m looking for the ones who already exist.