Ingrid Haavardsholm

Filmmaker. Storyteller. Photographer.

I’ve always believed that the fun begins just outside the norm, and yes, we’re talking strictly legal forms here. I don’t have time for the kind of drama that comes with floating into, well… let’s just say, illegal waters. It’s about having the nerve to follow the dreams that make your heart race, even when they don’t quite match the world’s expectations. Especially then, actually. People always say, “Stay in line, don’t stand out.” But honestly, that’s never been my style. I want to make films and take photos that say something meaningful, something bold, unexpected, and alive. At film school, my ideas were often called “too big.” I took that as a challenge. I had to see my vision through, even if it meant working alone. Sometimes you have to be the captain of your own ship to truly learn the craft.

Speaking of challenges, group projects were a whole other story for me. There was a lot of… well, chaos. I remember one time a guy who was supposed to drive out and pick up some props for our film detoured to McDonald’s to buy food for his girlfriend, and then took another four hours before he got back. We just waited. And it wasn’t just that, during shoots, people would drift off to smoke, grab snacks, or just zone out with chocolate and coffee. The kind of teamwork you’d expect? Yeah, not so much. Because of all this, my grades actually dropped on the group assignments. So I asked my teacher if I could work solo, and thankfully, she said yes. I needed to tell a story I truly cared about, and it worked. My grades bounced back, and I graduated with something solid to show for.

It all shifted when the production company I worked for, which produced TV shows for TV 2, Norway’s largest commercial TV channel that launched in 1992 and offers news, sports, current affairs, and family entertainment, faced a major change.

 

After 18 years on air, TV 2 decided to cancel Tid for hjem, a popular renovation show. Since over half of the production company’s income came from this show, motivation to rebuild was gone, and the production company chose to shut down.

That was tough. Still, they recommended me to TV 2, and that recommendation meant a lot to me. Having people believe in me like that, was a great support.

Over time, I realized that the role wasn’t the right fit for me. Balancing the duties of a studio technician, remotely controlling cameras, sound, and lighting, alongside being a photojournalist, didn’t suit my creative nature.

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I didn’t feel like I belonged. During breaks, I’d sneak away, put on headphones, and dance alone in the bathroom, my little survival trick. It’s a lonely experience when you’re somewhere you don’t feel connected or like you truly fit in.

Later, I landed a full-time photography job in Oslo, moving from Bergen to the big city. It was intense. I handled everything solo, shooting, editing, contracts, interviews. No breaks, no vacations. I was pushing hard because I wanted to move forward in the industry. After years like that, my body gave out. I broke down, tears, exhaustion, burnout. Joy suddenly felt miles away.

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This quick overview won’t give you the full picture of just how tough it was, especially the photography job in Oslo. But I’m not here to write a novel, so let’s speed through my story.

After a lot of rest and sleep, I slowly came back to myself again. Those long, quiet nights alone gave me time to reflect. What did I really want? At first, I just needed rest, desperately. Then, what now? Panic set. I was so consumed by fear that I couldn’t think outside the box anymore.

But slowly, day by day, I found my way back. And then, out of nowhere, inspiration struck: I wanted to start a photography club. Ideas came like fireworks. I grabbed my phone, opened the notes app, and scribbled every thought. Some documents, ideas, and hours later...

Here we are. It’s happening. Finally.

I’m excited, and I hope you’ll join me on this incredible journey.