Ultra Amorem

How did this project start, immersed among the Union Saint-Gilloise ultras? And what was your relationship to football or the stadium world at the beginning?

This project started from a personal desire to push myself, to test my limits as a documentary photographer with a project about a world that was completely unknown to me, very closed off and mostly male. It was in Courtrai, for my very first away trip with the ultras and supporters, that I went to a football stadium for the first time in my life. It was a small stadium and a small away game, and despite being stressed about going alone for the first time, I found the atmosphere absolutely crazy, I immediately got into it.

But not so much for the football, more for the atmosphere, the tifos, the chants, all the pyrotechnics, it’s incredibly exhilarating. Without realizing it, I was in the heart of the kop, and when they set off the pyro, my left shoe caught fire, I had to put it out with my bare hands.

I used to watch the World Cup, but honestly nothing more, I’m a bit of a “footix”. A friend of mine who supports AS Saint-Étienne told me about ultras, and I thought it was a really interesting world, one that matched the kind of subjects I like to work on: communities of all kinds.

In truth, I’ve always loved the unifying power of football. It brings people together, creates social bonds, a festive dimension, a collective emotion, I find that just as important as it is amazing. And even more so with ultras, there’s this kind of wolf pack feeling, very solidary.

How would you define the very strong visual codes present in your series?

What I quickly understood is that it’s a world that looks quite anarchic from the outside, but in reality it’s very codified, you need to learn the codes.

With the constraint of anonymity, I had to look for details in everyday matchday life: banners, flags, stickers, bus numbers written in Posca on hands, smoked joints and litres of Jupiler, tattoos, Adidas sneakers.

But it’s a world you don’t really see if you don’t pay attention to it. So I also wanted to show that aspect. There’s a whole organisation behind away trips, it’s a real commitment, it takes time, and there’s a kind of internal hierarchy.

I only know one ultra group, and I imagine things differ from one group to another. But I wanted to show this universe in its full scope and complexity, with a sense of closeness, so people can access a different image from the very negative one often portrayed in mainstream media.

How did you manage to be accepted into such a closed environment, as a woman as well?

This project was extremely difficult for me at the beginning, honestly. It wasn’t easy to integrate, there was a lot of suspicion, and I was very intimidated. I knew a guy through work who was part of the Bhoys, and he kind of “co-opted” me. But there was still a form of hostility at first, and once he had introduced me, he immediately stepped back, I think he didn’t want to be associated with me.

But I eventually managed to be (relatively, I mean) accepted because I didn’t give up. I came every weekend, every away trip, I even saw them sometimes outside of matches. I kind of put my social life aside at that point. It even became a bit obsessive at times, I only talked about that, I took everything very personally, I was a bit on edge.

But that long initial period of adaptation, where I actually produced very few photos, later allowed me to make more thoughtful work. In documentary projects, I believe the social bond should come before the images, even if that creates frustration for the photographer. And I personally feel more comfortable when the people I photograph are also at peace with me taking pictures, it shows in the images.

Sometimes there were journalists who didn’t understand why I could take photos calmly while they were getting insulted as soon as they approached the kop. And I just wanted to say: that’s six months of work, come on, let’s go.

And the fact of being a woman, I think, actually worked in my favour. Because if I had been a man, it would probably have taken me three times as long. I was perceived differently, with probably less suspicion, and they were somewhat indifferent to my presence.

I built stronger relationships with some of them, but for most it remained cordial. I shared my photos with them, they liked having archives of the tifos and everything. I kept doing that when I started working for the club — I would photograph the stand when they set off pyro and send them the pictures in the evening. That also worked in my favour, I think.

The Union stadium is a subject in itself. How did you approach it?

I carried out this project in 2022, at a somewhat special moment for Union. The club was turning the page on a long difficult period and was finally finding its place again among the best teams in the country. You could already feel the stand was changing. The stadium was filling up with new faces, including many residents of Saint-Gilles who came to enjoy this Sunday afternoon atmosphere that had become quite unique in Brussels.

What struck me was the very family-like atmosphere in the stand. You could see long-time supporters, families, many women who came regularly, but also a newer “bourgeois-bohemian” crowd from Saint-Gilles, attracted both by the club’s identity and its sporting results. It created a quite particular mix, far from the stereotypical image people often have of football stands.

There was also a strong anti-fascist and anti-racist dimension that has long been part of Union’s identity. You could still see banners like “AGAINST RACIST FOOTBALL”, anti-fascist flags, and various references to these values in the stands. A few years earlier, there had been controversy around the ban of certain anti-fascist slogans in the stadium, which sparked many reactions because many supporters felt it was part of the club’s history and identity.

That said, at the time, I also had the impression that this political dimension was not necessarily embraced in the same way by everyone. I felt that part of the Union Bhoys tended to become slightly depoliticised, or at least to focus more on supporting the team than on political display. The anti-fascist references sometimes felt more carried by certain groups or particularly committed supporters, while a large part of the crowd came mainly for the club, the atmosphere, and the conviviality of the stadium. That mix is exactly what made the stand interesting: between old supporters, new fans, families, ultras, militant heritage, and the return of sporting success, it felt like a transitional moment in Union’s history.

What surprised you about this ultra group during your immersion?

Regarding this specific ultra group, it’s hard for me to draw definitive conclusions because it was my first, and probably my only, experience of this kind (even though I would love to do another project around football and women, whether on the supporters’ side or the sport itself. So if anyone reading this likes my work, feel free to reach out).

What surprised me most at the beginning was this culture of anonymity. The need to constantly hide identities, be careful with photos, social media, and people outside the group. It creates a certain level of suspicion that I sometimes found a bit destabilising.

I was also struck by the violence that exists around some supporter groups. Violence that, in the situations I witnessed or heard about, often came from groups on the far right or even clearly fascist-leaning. I remember a match where Beerschot supporters tried to rush the pitch to invade Union’s stand and trigger clashes. There were also stories of Anderlecht fans waiting in streets or parks after matches to attack isolated Bhoys and steal scarves or group material. There is almost a “game-like” aspect to it, with codes, rivalries, and trophies, but it can sometimes escalate into extremely violent situations that I’ve always struggled to understand.

On the other hand, what surprised me positively was the age range within the group. You meet teenagers, students, people in their thirties, and older supporters. It gives a very family-like feeling that I didn’t necessarily expect. I also felt that the ultra group could play an important social role for some people. For some, it’s a circle of friends, a routine, a place of belonging, sometimes even a chosen family when biological family is absent or when someone feels isolated. That is probably one of the most interesting and least visible aspects of this world.

And finally, I would like to thank them all for welcoming me into this very unique universe. Thank you for the love, the smoke, the chants, the hugs, the beers, and sometimes the tears. Thank you for accepting me and letting me capture it. Thank you for passing on this love to me: “Don’t ask me why, love cannot be explained.