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Tim Parkin
Tim Parkin is a British landscape photographer, writer, and editor best known as the co-founder of On Landscape magazine, where he explores the art and practice of photographing the natural world. His work is thoughtful and carefully crafted, often focusing on subtle details and quiet moments in the landscape rather than dramatic vistas. Alongside his photography and writing, he co-founded the Natural Landscape Photography Awards, serves as a judge for other international competitions. Through all these projects, Parkin has become a respected and influential voice in contemporary landscape photography.
Joe Cornish
Professional landscape photographer.
Pete Hyde
A widely travelled landscape photographer with a passion for composition.
I’ve been meaning to complete this article for quite a while now, but it’s been difficult to complete for some reason. I don’t know if anything can be worthy of summarising a life, but I know I can describe the small part where our spheres collided for a while and ask some friends for a few words.
For those who don’t know Trym Ivar Bergsmo, I suggest a look at the Featured Photographer interview we had with him in 2018.
The Norwegian art world tends to look inward, and so we don’t tend to hear about the people making significant contributions beyond its borders. People won’t know even the most famous painters' names, like Johan Christian Dahl or Peder Balke, and so it is even more so with the photographers. And yet the work they produce belies this. Yet, for the lack of credit outside of Norway, the country supports and nurtures its own creatives very well, and Trym made significant contributions to the National institutions.
It’s easy to say that without his illnesses, he could have contributed so much more, but what we are defines us, and who is to say that Trym wasn’t the sum of all his parts? I digress. The goal of this article is to mention a few ways Trym touched the lives of some of the people I know. If you have any anecdotes or memories about Trym, I’d love to hear.
Tim Parkin
I first met Trym at our On Landscape “Meeting of Minds” event. He left a message through Pete Hyde that he’d like to say hello. Our conversation was easy, warm; he paid a genuine compliment to the event, then invited Charlotte and me to stay with him in his “small shack” in Lofoten. I couldn’t remember his exact words, but that was the impression he left. We thought it was just one of those things people say. After chatting online over the next year, we had another event and another chance to meet up, Charlotte and I finally took him up on the offer.
We stuffed our photography gear and climbing kit into oversized, overweight luggage, flew to Norway in September 2019, and drove up to a thin spit of land at the bottom of the Lofoten archipelago. We were looking for a little old shed somewhere, but got hopelessly lost among a cluster of strikingly modern houses overlooking the fjords. We rang Trym. He laughed and told us we’d already driven past his house twice, and he was waving at us.
The “small shack” turned out to be a beautiful, modern home with jaw-dropping views across Vestfjord toward the south coast of Lofoten. It was quintessential Trym, modest in wording but grand in gesture. He had cleared his schedule for our fortnight's stay. On day one, we tried (in vain) to find a climbing guide, but they all stopped working in September. So we decided to spend a couple of days at Paradiset near Henningsvær, tentatively climbing on our own.
When we realised easy climbing opportunities were limited, we drove back the next morning through spectacular autumn scenery. Trym greeted us with a grin and asked, “We have the most amazing weather forecast for the next ten days and it’s peak autumn. Would you like a tour guide for the week?” We didn’t hesitate.
What followed were days that combined some of the most stunning views I’ve ever seen with nearly constant conversation with one of the most inspiring people I’ve ever met. Trym’s driving was nothing if not adventurous; his approach to life and the landscape was steady, curious, and deeply respectful.
We spent a couple of evenings with his family, sampling local delicacies (some better left unspoken) and talking about everything, from photography, light, memory and place, to the subtleties of culture and the quiet power of the Arctic north [check out Trym's more journalistic work about the Sami people here].
But the real highlight for me was being taken to places off the beaten track - private roads Trym had access to and hidden viewpoints of Trollfjord reached by secret back roads. It felt more than just a photo trip; it was like sharing someone’s deep relationship with a place. He had spent more than three decades photographing the landscapes of his home: mountains, forests, shorelines and the distinctive light of Northern Norway. He was unafraid to explore the Arctic, Greenland, Iceland - but he always returned to where he felt most himself. I left a piece of myself behind in Lofoten. On one of our walks near his house, I took a photograph of him - back turned - contemplating his land. I think I caught a moment of him at peace.
We stayed connected after that trip, friendship sustained through questions, comments, shared photos and stories. Then Trym disappeared for a while. Nearly a year later, he got in touch to tell me how he had suffered from Covid. He’d had long-standing health conditions that meant he was particularly susceptible to illness.
The Covid infection meant hospitalisation, induced coma and ongoing support. Complete recovery was far from guaranteed. Among our later conversations, I sensed a conviction: he was on a mission to close out a range of projects he’d had in mind. His final exhibition and his book My Land felt like an epitaph to a life lived with purpose and place.
I was deeply sad that I couldn’t make it to his exhibition, and sorry I didn’t get to meet him again in person. But I can still live in my memories of our time together and the lasting legacy he left behind, which everyone can experience through his book “My Land”.
Joe Cornish
Sadly, for me, I really only had the privilege of spending any length of time with Trym once, in February of 2024. We led a winter workshop together in the wondrous Norwegian Arctic landscapes of Lofoten, Vesterålen and Senja. Before then, we had three days of photography and conversation together at his beach house in Lodingen as winter storms raged and we wondered whether our group would ever manage to arrive on time.
By the end of these experiences and our workshop, I felt I had a friend for life. Which was true. What I couldn’t know was that Trym would lose his in October of the same year. A week before he left us, I had an email from Trym explaining that his health problems had “woken up”, as he put it, but he was still looking forward to the next workshop together, scheduled as it was for February this year. As positive and cheerful as always.
trym 1.tif
As a photographer, Trym’s body of work from Arctic Norway was distinctive and personal, revealing glimpses of his inner world as well as the outer one. It also reflects his experience as a young working photographer, professionally trained and knowledgeable about and loving of film's unforgiving characteristics. As a result, he had the instilled discipline of working to a brief and problem-solving, in addition to his deep well of artistic instinct. The pictures reproduced with this article show the range of his ideas, his feeling for the polar darkness, and the elusive mystery of Arctic colours. His seeing voice was – is – unique in photography.
Arild Heitmann alerted me to Trym’s passing. In the correspondence that followed, I wrote: “A great photographer with a unique, deeply felt connection with the physical world and the particular properties of the Arctic landscape of your home. But more than that was his empathy, kindness, and openness. Trym was one of the best people you could ever hope to meet.”
Among landscape photographers across the world, he will not be forgotten.
Pete Hyde
My first two meetings with Trym involved food.The first over breakfast in the restaurant at STF Abisko Turiststationat and the second over dinner in a pub in Penrith [whilst attending the Meeting of Minds conference]. During these brief meetings, I recognised that Trym was someone I would happily spend a little photography time with.
In March 2021, I saw a workshop with Trym and Joe Cornish advertised and immediately decided this would be something I would love to do. I booked onto the workshop along with two friends, but unfortunately, Covid caused this trip to be cancelled. However, we kept in touch with Trym, suggesting that when he was well again, we could possibly join another workshop.
In 2023, this eventually came to pass when we arranged a private tour of the Lofoten islands. Trym was the ideal host/guide for what turned out be a very enjoyable and memorable trip. His quiet, friendly nature made him an excellent companion as well as a very knowledgeable guide. During the week we spent together, he showed us some of his favourite photography locations and happily shared his enthusiasm and love for his homeland. Although I spent only a short time with him, I feel privileged to have met him and know that this will be true for many others who travelled with him.
Finally
A huge thank you to Stian Klo and Arild Heitman for their help in taking and letting us use photos of the Trym's final exhibition. I've included a few photographs below and you can also take a look at the programme PDF by clicking here. I also highly recommend checking out their work, as they’re part of the current crop of outstanding artists who receive less coverage than they should outside of their native country.
And very finally, we have chosen a selection of our favourite images of Trym’s and would like to share them with you here. I make no excuses for reproducing so many here - It was hard for us to trim down
