Foto




Depopulation of the Countryside
or the Sweden I Have Seen

Fabriksgatan, Katrineholm. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm
The depopulation of the countryside is hardly news to anyone, yet the trend that has been unfolding since the 1970s seems untouchable—no one appears able to shift its course.

Stopping briefly in Lindesberg, it struck me that almost every small town I have visited bears the same mark: empty shopfronts at its center. A phenomenon both puzzling and thought-provoking—how did it come to be this way, and how far has it spread?

Bangårdsgatan, Nässjö. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm

To find out, I set off on four journeys across the country—north, south, east, and west—beginning in Stockholm, to test whether my impression of Sweden’s increasing centralization holds true.

This work is a testimony to a Sweden where life and movement have drained away from many places, told through photographs of vacant shop premises in small towns and cities.


Hertig Karlsgatan, Filipstad. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm

No matter where you go, there are empty shops. But in the countryside, the emptiness feels sharper, more tangible. Perhaps because there is little else to take its place? I cannot help but marvel at the sheer abundance of closed and forgotten storefronts.

Sweden: a land of forests, country roads, lakes—then more forests, more lakes—and small towns scattered like confetti. And empty shops. Everywhere.

Kvarnhedsvägen, Nyhammar. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm

Heading south through Sörmland into Småland, what struck me most was that even in a bustling place like Nässjö, many shopfronts stand deserted. Some locals looked at me with curiosity, but those who asked what I was doing agreed that this was an important project.

On my second journey I encountered both movement and stillness. Sunne was lively, while Lesjöfors lay silent. Further north, in southern Dalarna, I found Nyhammar—a place where even the grocery store is gone. The three shops along the main street all stand abandoned.

Norra Tullportsgatan, Östhammar. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm

Roslagen carries personal memories; as a child I spent much time in Norrtälje. Returning brought a strange nostalgia tinged with melancholy. Very few of the shops I remember remain. Still, there are pockets of life here too—Östhammar and Norrtälje hum with restaurants full of people.

By the fourth journey, contrasts and distances had grown. In Holmsveden—even with its train station, along the historic Tidernas Väg—every business had closed. It looked as though those who once ran them simply stood up one day and left. Beyond, vast landscapes unfolded, dotted with drowsy little towns.

Centralvägen, Rimbo. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm

This project has touched me far more deeply than I expected. Urbanization and centralization are themes I have returned to before, but only during these journeys did I begin to truly study them. Some moments were personally difficult—the sights I encountered offered little hope for the future. Coupled with the solitude of driving alone for days through forests and fields, there were times it was hard not to despair over what is happening in rural Sweden. And yet

Stationsgatan, Holmsveden. 2025. Analog photograph. 23*16 cm

Here and there, life persists. After reading Landet Utanför by Kristina Mattsson, I came to see that there is no clear reason why some towns hold on while others fade, despite facing similar conditions. Another phenomenon that fascinates me, and one that has given me the drive to continue these travels. Part of me has always longed for the countryside, while another part thrives on the pulse and energy of the city.

Now, at the close of the project, I feel more than ever the countryside’s pull, even as I witness—and read—how jobs and cultural life are steadily disappearing. Some forecasts predict that this will continue until certain towns will be left with no inhabitants at all.

Storgatan, Dorotea. 2025. Analog photograf. 23*16 cm

Artist Statement

With a searching gaze drawn to the forgotten, the abandoned, and the peculiar, John Skoglund turns his camera on the overlooked. The tactility, limitations, and slow rhythm of analog photography, along with a desire to document and preserve what has been left behind, are what drive him to make images.

In this project, Skoglund explores the theme of rural depopulation by documenting empty shopfronts in small towns across Sweden. In the summer of 2025, he set out in his SAAB 900, driving in all four directions from Stockholm, collecting photographs of windows that once reflected human presence and activity, but now only mirror the sky and deserted streets. All photographs were shot on Ilford film with a Nikon FM and developed at home in his kitchen.

John Skoglund (b. 1993) is a self-taught analog photographer and emerging graphic designer. He has studied at Konstskolan Basis and HDK Valand. In 2022, he was awarded a grant from the Gunnar Greiber Scholarship Fund.

Published at https://ugotphotography.se/sommarkurs-fotografiskt-projektarbete-2025/



Depopulation of the countryside 1

Photographs taken in Nordanstig municipality after I received the Gunnar Greibers Scholarship. Mainly of abandoned buildings around Hassela. The pictures were taken with a large format camera.




A selection of other images I’ve made: