The village is empty now, or, from time to time, it temporarily offers shelter to squatters and hunters. It’s situated in a remote area of Greenland, where it is nearly impossible for humans to live comfortably.

In 1937, the inhabitants constructed a building with a chapel and a schoolroom for 11 children. That same year, a shop opened to cater to the basic needs of the isolated island’s 40 inhabitants. Due to its remote location and difficult access, the population declined until gradually no one was left. According to local lore, the last villagers to leave the island were two brothers. One later murdered the other.

As I photographed the interiors of the open houses, I had the strongest feeling that they had been hastily abandoned, as if their inhabitants had been under great pressure to leave as fast as they could.

Awash in the calm light of the dying sun and set against the backdrop of icebergs flowing down the fjord like models on a catwalk, this undulating landscape of soundless houses and burial grounds felt to me like a place of witness; I was filled with a sense of reverence.

—Fokion L. Zissiadis

We recently launched the LensCulture Network with the idea of offering talented, accomplished photographers a place to showcase their work on a global stage while also giving them a place to share, learn and engage with one another. The LensCulture Network began with a small number of hand-picked members, and we are very excited to watch it grow and evolve as new photographers apply and are invited to participate as members.