‘A dear friend of mine scheduled couriers for DHL. From time to time he would ring and ask if I wanted to catch the next red-eye flight to New York. I always said yes. I was never certain what cargo I was accompanying. I only knew that there would be a ticket waiting for me at the counter and that 5 and a half hours later I would arrive at JFK.’ – Janet Delaney
Throughout the 1980s, Janet Delaney’s job in a San Francisco photography lab was punctuated by the last-minute flights she would take to New York as a courier. Within these unexpected pockets of time she spent in New York, Delaney would wander the streets with her Rolleiflex camera, attending to the rhythms and characters of this much-mythologised city. Despite being tired and often lost, the act of photographing made Delaney feel present and alert, in tune with the crowds that pushed past her and mesmerised by the depth of history woven into the city’s structures.
The colour photographs that make up this series are brimming with life and reveal the formation of Delaney’s generous approach to photographing streets and the people who inhabit them, capturing the precious mixture of private lives lived in public and transient moments of connection between photographer and subject.
With a text by Amanda Maddox, Associate Curator in the Department of Photographs at The J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles.
The signed edition includes an extra image plate signed by the artist and glued into the inside back cover.
"Could this be my own face, I wondered. My heart pounded at the idea, and the face in the mirror grew more and more unfamiliar.” – Masuji Ibuse, Black Rain
The latest book by photographer Rosalind Fox Solomon begins by meditating upon the differences and regularities that shape the lives of people around the world. In a Brazilian favela, a man daydreams while holding a reproduced painting of French royalty. In New York, a mother beams at her daughter who wears a Statue of Liberty Crown. In a school in rural Guatemala, young children pretend to make music with paper instruments.
As the sequence progresses, a darker story emerges from these images: one shaped by the violent events of recent global history, events which some may find it easier to forget. Through her powerful black-and-white photographs, Fox Solomon offers a reflection on the evils of war and its far-reaching ramifications. The bodies of her subjects bear all-too physical traces of conflict and aggressive foreign policy: two Cambodian teenagers who have lost their legs to landmines while gathering wood near their homes; victims of Agent Orange, a weapon of chemical warfare that continues to affect children born long after the end of the Vietnam war; a survivor of Hiroshima who reminds us of the abundant accumulation of nuclear bombs throughout the world today.
Collected here, Solomon’s compassionate images pay tribute while bearing unflinching witness to those people around the world whose bodies have become sites of conflict and stand as permanent memorials to the merciless pursuit of power.
The signed edition includes an extra image plate signed by the artist and glued into the inside back cover.
A Civil Rights Journey presents the astonishing archive of Dr Doris Derby: photographer, activist, and professor of anthropology. Active throughout the Civil Rights Movements of the mid twentieth century in the southern United States, particularly Mississippi, Derby acted as a photographer, organiser and teacher, making photographs of the intimate and human side of the everyday struggle for survival and human rights. She photographed both the organisation of political events, meetings, and funerals, alongside the literacy, co-operative and community theatre programmes, many of which she founded, and encountered much danger and tragedy along the way.
Here we see the speeches and protests that gave the movement its defining moments, as well as vital figures including Muhammad Ali, Alice Walker, Fannie Lou Hamer, and Jesse Jackson. We also see classrooms and church halls, doctors and secretaries: everyday scenes of joy, frustration, curiosity, and connection, in which the determination and collective actions and resolve and actions of the movement are equally expressed.
This extensive volume presents Derby’s images in sequences that between them document rural and urban poverty, offer lucid ethnographies of particular streets and families, track the day-to-day lives of African American children growing up in the Mississippi Delta, and bear witness to such pivotal events as the Jackson State University shooting, the funeral of Martin Luther King Jr., and the 1968 Democratic Convention. Derby’s photographs offer us an invaluably rich portrait of a historical moment whose effects have defined today’s world and issues a vital reassertion of the work that remains to be done. Artist photographer Hannah Collins has worked with Doris Derby to recount the events photographed in extensive texts which accompany the images.
The signed edition includes an extra image plate signed by the artist and glued into the inside back cover.
Dark Mirrors assembles sixteen essays by photographer and critic Stanley Wolukau-Wanambwa focusing on contemporary fine art photographic and video practices that are principally, though not exclusively, rooted in the United States, written between 2015 and 2021. Wolukau-Wanambwa analyses the image’s relationship to the urgent and complex questions that define our era, through the lens of artistic practices and works which insightfully engage with the ongoing contemporaneity of disparate histories and the ever-changing status of the visual in social life.
The book sets out an argument that one of the most dynamic sites of artistic invention in photographic practice over the past decade has been the photographic book, and thus many of the essays in the volume assess artistic works as they are bodied forth in that form. Among the recurrent themes that emerge from these rigorous, probing essays are the complex interrelationship of anti-blackness and visuality, the fragility and complexity of embodied difference in portraiture, the potency of verbal and visual media as social forms, and the politics of attention.
With essays on Deana Lawson, Dana Lixenberg, Paul Pfeiffer, Arthur Jafa, Katy Grannan, and Robert Bergman among others.
In Southeastern Turkey, just kilometres from the Syrian border, is Sirkhane: a mobile darkroom which travels from village to village teaching children how to shoot, develop, and print their own photographs. Led by Serbest Salih, a young photographer and Syrian refugee, the darkroom is founded on a fundamental belief in photography as a universal and therapeutic language, and encourages children living in the area — many of whom are themselves refugees from Syria and Iraq — to experiment with the medium as both a form of play and a means of understanding the world around them.
In these images, produced by the project’s young participants, the city of Mardin and the vast Mesopotamian plain beyond become a backdrop to the miraculous dreams, games, and discoveries which play out within the space of the frame. In occasional moments, the war nearby is hinted at: a fighter plane enters the frame of an otherwise clear sky; a child peers out from inside a UNHCR box. But rather than reiterating scenes of suffering and trauma, these images depict their environment afresh through the unmistakable, wonder-filled gaze of a child: a vision punctuated by surprise and play, in which friends and family are captured mid-flight, upside down, leaning out of windows, and whimsically disguised.
Full of laughter and joy, i saw the air fly is testament to the unfailing resilience of the imagination, the healing power of photography, and the enchanting perspective of childhood.
All proceeds from this publication will go to the Her Yerde Sanat-Sirkhane non-profit.
Mimi Plumb’s Landfall encapsulates the anxieties of a world spinning out of balance, a mirror-land eerily reminiscent of our own time.
The burnt out remains of a house fire open out onto equally decimated alpine landscapes, group shots of humans in lackadaisical embrace with high tech weapons of war...Plumb’s photographs of manmade scars and refuse mingle in seductive rhythm with portraits of friends and strangers in disquieting poses, reveling in the underlying unease the artist saw in herself, her community, and the world at large.
Restraint and Desire is the culmination of a lifelong creative partnership between husband and wife Ken Graves and Eva Lipman, whose visionary life together was defined by the unique and selfless act of claiming artistic credit as a singular entity.
For decades they acutely surveyed high school dances, military ceremonies, football games, boxing matches, and other American social rituals, seeking to capture the complex intensity between humans often overlooked in these commonplace settings. These mostly prosaic happenings often revealed sexual tensions that Ken and Eva saw not only in the world around them, but in their own relationship. As Eva says, “our work reflected back to us, like a mirror, the intensities and power dynamics of our shared life together.” Acts of generosity and humility, domination and submission, passions, both violent and tender, straight and homoerotic, are all beautifully enhanced through the intimacy of the photographs.
With a profound visual sensitivity, Graves and Lipman collect human gestures that betray the complex interiority of their subjects. Hands often act here as the protagonist– grabbing, touching, reaching –entering and exiting the photographs like a visual metronome. Lust, fear, boredom, exhaustion and a myriad of feelings beyond the realm of language are all on display through the discerning glare of their camera and its flash.
Demolition derbies are spectacular celebrations of car culture, carnival culture, and a maximalist desire to be loud and destructive, all because… well, why not? They’re chaotic, a ritualized nihilism of automotive destruction, metal and mud everywhere, but in Ken Graves and Eva Lipman’s Derby, an understated poetry emerges from the scene. There is not a collision to be found; instead the couple focuses on the nuanced moments that surround the event, crafting images that are equally anthropological and expressive, yet surprisingly quiet and kind, revealing the inexplicable beauty of a community in complete control of its own entertainment.
As viewers, we become privy to an endless cycle of wreckage and repair. Before an event, amateur mechanics make ad hoc repairs with full knowledge that their hard work will be undone in half the time. Sisyphean to a T. Chicken wire replaces windshields and gangly teenagers gut the interior of someone’s former dream car, which they likely bought the day before for the price of an old lawn mower. The cars are merely something to use and abuse, and possibly provide some laughs along the way. Hell, you might even break a rib or two.
For more than three decades Ken Graves and Eva Lipman were partners in both life and art. Always shooting as a singular entity, they blurred the lines of authorship and shared equal artistic credit for their images.
With Family Car Trouble, Gus Powell plays with the form of the novel, both as material object and as narrative vehicle for expressing interior life. The work records and reckons with the arrival of children, the departure of a father, and the maintenance of a difficult 1992 Volvo 940 station wagon.
A new classic of the Automotive Bereavement Parenting genre.
New softcover edition (first edition was hardback).
To spend time with Martin Salter’s Memory Lane is to enter into a kind of meditation. It is a narrative of strangeness, of chance encounters, mysterious occurrences against the flimsy solid background of ‘ordinary’ Britain. His photographs pose the question about ‘who we are’ and ‘where we are’, how we dwell within our urban, rural and coastal landscapes, the patterns of existence we make. Documentary photography magicks our recollections alive in a kind of visual alchemy.
‘Were we there?’ we wonder, ‘in that place at that time?’ In our memories, places shrink or grow larger, become indistinct or pencil more beautiful or more mundane; we are Alices in Wonderland as we confront the changing dimensions of the past.
Florian Bachmeier's color photographs, which were taken in the Ukraine over the past eight years, succeed in making past and present historical processes in Ukraine visible and to describe their psychological and social effects on people and landscapes.
He travels intensively all over the country, taking photos in the cities, in the villages and at the front. In the seventh year, an internal political conflict has turned into a merciless proxy war that has cost thousands of lives and spread all over the country in all its effects.
IN LIMBO, describes an apparent state of freezing and, at the same time, permanent uncertainty. The portraits tell of biographies in which the conflict is inscribed visible and invisible. In addition to the heroes' monuments and the ruins of the last war, the front runs through the landscape. In the end, the only choice left for the people is either to settle in this state or to leave the country, their homeland.
In order to escape from the labyrinth in which they had been imprisoned, Daedalus made a pair of wings for himself and for his son Icarus. Flying would make them free. In his enthusiasm, after taking flight Icarus got too close to the sun, as a result of which the heat melted the wax that held the feathers on his back and he ended up falling into the sea and drowning.
Over the course of history, a liaison has been forged between human beings and the sky; between the desire to fly and the physical and symbolic meaning entailed by flying. As a result, flight brings together contrary and complementary elements: the eternal and ascending as opposed to the perishable and descending, the hope and distress in the act of learning to fly and thus rising or plunging to the ground; life and death.
Our desire to fly responds to our need to move one place to another, although we very often plunge into an abyss, as did Icarus.
To become airborne — that’s where the poetry lies.
This Project is the winner of the Fifth Fotocanal Photobook Competition 2020, organized by the Comunidad de Madrid and Ediciones Anómalas.
Text in Spanish and English (in accompanying booklet).
A striking new photographic voice engages with street portraiture to create dark, interior psychological spaces exploring the relationship between public and private lives.
British artist Jet Swan’s first monograph collects together the last three years of the artist's engagement with members of the public through impromptu studio spaces, such as an empty shopfront inside a commercial mall in Scarborough, northeast England, and a repurposed community hall in Ramsgate, Kent, where the artist lives and works.
Swan balances the public identities nurtured and maintained by those who pass through her studio against darker, intimate photographic spaces, contrasting private and tactile images of the body with photographs that skirt around the margins of conventional staged portraiture. With a new text in response by acclaimed poet Rachael Allen.
Rato, Tesoura, Pistola gathers together photographs by Pedro Guimarães, produced in collaboration with Nuno Engstrøm Guimarães (drawings, 7 years old) and Emma-Sofie Engstrøm Guimarães (monster pancakes, 5 years old). Sara Bichão kidly offered her masks that becomes part of a familiar entertainment revealing what an author can be, literally “one who causes to grow,” and not only in a parental relationship. Combining the drawings of his children together with portraits of them playfully or simply relating with the father’s camera, this photobook, designed by Dayana Lucas, is a manifold of experiences and artistic attitudes in which photography works as an intertwining element and where design strategies activate it as a device involving the reader himself in the game. As the title of the book suggests, “Mouse, scissors, gun”, and Pedro explains in the book presentation: “This is how we play together, how we pretend there is no such thing as the vast emptiness that keeps us apart during most days of our lives: 2500 km of land and water, to be precise, the sheer vastness of Europe. But most days is not all days of our lives, right?”. And the time we spend flipping through this book, opening the folds that constitute its very semantic structure, has the sweet and captivating flavour of the magic time described in Pedro’s book, shortening distances and creating magic worlds with the interaction of basic, but powerful elements.
In a digitalized age, the endless stream of images stored in the cloud fills the gaps of what might be forgotten. In her past projects, Michaela Putz was dealing with these implications of technology and virtual image storage and remembrance. The artist's own image archive from different phases of her life, stored on computer and smartphone, serves as the raw material for this. In a kind of digital retrospect, these are photographed and documented directly from the screen, whereby fingerprints and remains of dust on them are also recorded, as well as the mouse pointer and digital artifacts that are created by zooming into the images. Sometimes, they are digitally retouched and smudged, other times, they have been taken several times with the camera of the smartphone, making them pixelated, slightly dissolving the original image. By this, the works aim to visually sound out the gaps between human and digital memory, bringing the digital images consisting of raw data closer to the ephemerality and imprecision of human memory. Doing a publication with these images not only draws a connection between them but also to think about the way we deal with analog and digital image material. Even though digital images seem to be only data, they are constantly being touched: We are wiping and swiping, zooming and tapping on them through the screen. The book tries to take into account these different qualities and connecting the digital and analog processes of looking at images from our past.
New York in the 70’s and 80’s was a volatile city, where everything was happening at once. For over two years, Jill Freedman joined two precincts of the NYPD as they responded to the violence and the unpredictability of the city, putting herself directly on the frontline like an invisible witness.
Freedman was initially sceptical of the police after documenting The Poor People’s Campaign (1968) that followed the assassination of Martin Luther King and after witnessing the police response to the Vietnam protests. But after spending entire days touring the streets and entire nights drinking with the men and women of the NYPD, she started to see the heroism and compassion of the good cops. The ones nobody talked about, who were out there to help their city, seeing the best and the worst of humanity. The ones people loved and respected.
The photographs in Street Cops are intimate and penetrating. They expose not only the rampant violence of New York City at the time but the tender moments between officers and members of the community, the jokes between cops and those getting arrested, the camaraderie between partners, the passion for doing a job that most people would consider an act of lunacy. Her images are raw and direct; unafraid to show the horror. But she also captured the humour and tenderness of a situation. The vulnerability.
Freedman approached photography with an anthropological interest and no judgment. She wanted to tell a story as she saw it and heard it. Street Cops is a collection of stories about a city and its people on both sides of the law.
A cinematic meditation on nature and civilisation, Markus Andersen’s Intimate plunges us into minutiae of urban life in Sydney. Using a telephoto lens, he carves a silent path through the city, capturing a procession of nameless faces, their expressions blown up and immortalised in black and white.
“I shoot fast, take the frame and move. I guess it’s like trying to capture lightning in a bottle,” Andersen says. Shot in extreme close-up and drenched in sunlight, his moody, monochromatic images transmit the full spectrum of human emotion. The inner battles, the hidden vulnerabilities, are laid bare for all to see. Masterfully juxtaposing street photography with tender portraits of the environment, Andersen evokes a bittersweet sense of nostalgia, of disconnection, and denial.
At once mesmeric and beckoning, Intimate transports us to the dark heart of urbanisation and our seemingly limitless appetite for destruction. In doing so, he sheds light on our dormant yearnings to be reacquainted with the natural world and, ultimately, our complicity in its demise.
Supplied with a signed C-Type print: 190mm wide x 127mm deep (5”x7”), printed on Kodak Archival Endura 260gsm (see image)
Drawing from the nearly half a million photographs and documents comprising the Historic American Buildings Survey held in the US Library of Congress, this book constructs a fictional ‘one-way road trip’ across the United States, weaving north and south across the Mason-Dixon line while tacking west. In A Field Measure Survey of American Architecture, Jeffrey Ladd uses the HABS archive as a surrogate in order to manifest a portrait of his former country at a moment when its democracy seems imperiled.
Inspired equally by the social documentary work of Walker Evans and the architectural interventions of Gordon Matta-Clark and others, Ladd embraces the muteness of photographs to create an ambiguous space where the sculptural, political, forensic, and fictional coalesce within a landscape of both beauty and fragility. What initially appears to be a single voice is revealed to belong to dozens of makers; what seems a description of the distant past is revealed to be closer to the present than expected. A Field Measure Survey sheds light not only on this remarkable archive but on the proliferate meanings that can be shaped from its images.
The signed edition includes a slip signed by the artist and bound into the inside back cover.
“Sub Sole (in Latin, beneath the sun), an ensemble of photographs made between 2017 and 2020, in the region of the Mediterranean Sea, follows the mythological itinerary of the voyage of Ulysses: Ceuta, Naples, Athens, Palermo, Istanbul, Tunis and Lampedusa. Crossroads of cultures, cradle of foundation myths, the Mediterranean is, today more than ever, marked by migrations, exile and displacement. Over the course of seven voyages and numerous chance encounters, Mascaro goes in search of the young people who inhabit and traverse this region. The literary narratives which the artist drew upon for his work are like the invisible companions of these photographs. They imbue the contemporary images with an ancient substance. Beneath the sun, political, economic, existential, and poetic implications intersect, beneath the harsh, hot Mediterranean light whose rhythm shapes human life.” Sonia Voss
Sometimes a single book can summarize a period, an event, a phenomenon. Only the talent of the author can make the difference. Jérôme Sessini’s photographs of Ukraine’s uprising are not nice, they are appropriate and necessary. They rightly question the horror, violence and hypocrisy that characterize six years of wars at the gates of Europe. Inner Disordergathers photographs and text of both harshest moments and low times of a war paced by life, death, boredom and silence. The proximity of the events leaves no respite to the reader as the familiarity of the faces blatantly illustrates the banality of war. And yet, he reaches beyond the context to produce a universal message.
Richard Rothman's Town of C is a photographic meditation on what lies beneath the unsettling surface of American culture, as seen through the lens of a small town along the Front Range of Southern Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. Rooted in the tradition of the socially critical photography books that have taken America as their subject— Walker Evans’ “American Photographs,” Robert Frank’s “The Americans,” and Robert Adams’ “What We Bought,” among them — “Town of C” both encompasses and expands on the American theme, provoking thoughts about the larger environment. It begins with a prologue of alternating titles and images that announce the elemental forces of nature: water, and the source of the river that runs through the town; the region’s tectonics and the mountains that have risen above them to shape and frame the landscape; and light, the source of energy that fuels life itself.
The increasingly dystopian American experience is placed within the larger context of our disturbed presence in the world. The book, a novel-like, sustained visual narrative, attempts to penetrate and reveal the heart of a small town and, by extension, the culture it has sprung from and the lives of the people who have shaped that culture, and who are in turn shaped by it. Varied, wide-ranging portraits span generations and classes, from infants to the elderly, from the homeless to the wealthy. They bear witness to the struggle to survive and ascend, and attest to an eternal hunger for unrequited longings that fuel human interaction in unpredictable ways. The tragic nature of the human condition explored in the portraits, nudes, and altered landscape of C is set against the rapturous beauty of a vanishing natural world still capable of generating awe, wonder, and a reverence for life.
A few days ago in the evening, I suddenly felt the urge to take a train to Yokosuka. It was already after 8 PM when I arrived in the ”Wakamatsu Market” entertainment district behind Yokosuka Chuo Station on the Keihin Line, but due to the ongoing pandemic, the lights of the normally crowded shops were all switched off. The streets at night had turned into a bleak, dimly lit place, with the usual drunken crowd nowhere in sight. I eventually held my camera into the darkness and shot a dozen or so pictures, while walking quite naturally down the main street toward the “Dobuita-dori” district. However, most of the shops here were closed as well, and only a few people passed by. It was a truly sad and lonely sight.“Little wonder,” I muttered to myself, considering that more than half a century had passed since the time I wandered with the camera in my hand around Yokosuka, right in the middle of the Vietnam War.
It was here in Yokosuka that I decided to devote myself to the street snap style, so the way I captured the Yokosuka cityscape defined the future direction of my photographic work altogether. I was 25 at the time, and was still in my first year as an independent photographer. I remember how determined and ambitious I was when I started shooting, eager to carry my pictures into the Camera Mainichi office and get them published in the magazine. It was a time when I spent my days just clicking away while walking around with the camera in my hand, from Yokosuka out into the suburbs, from the main streets into the back alleys.I had been familiar with the fact that Yokosuka was a US military base since I was a kid, and it also somehow seemed to suit my own constitution, so I think my dedication helped me overcome the fearfulness that came on the flip side of the fun that was taking photos in Yokosuka.
These are the results of a mere two days of shooting, but somewhere between the changing faces of Yokosuka, and my own response from the position of a somewhat cold and distant observer in the present, I think they are reflecting the passage of time, and the transformations of the times.
Lunar Library is dedicated to Moni's eye as an artist with Petra as the subject and muse. This book is years of work between the two artists. Most of which was created in secret and mainly as a form of play. With their audience being only themselves, Petra and Moni have created a ridiculous circus of characters and settings.
“This is how I remember New York City in 2002. I was 19 years old and had just moved to Manhattan from my family’s small farm on Long Island. It was the first summer after the September 11 attacks. Workers were removing the last of the debris from the collapsed Twin Towers. The city felt both immense and fragile compared to the groundedness of my childhood home.”
“On weekdays, I worked in Arnold Newman’s photography studio. After hours and on weekends, I walked through the city’s five boroughs with my camera. When someone made eye contact with me, I asked if I could make a portrait of them. At first, I assumed people would respond with caution. I was a stranger. The city was recovering from an event that shook its sense of security. Yet, most people said yes and looked straight into my camera lens. I am grateful they chose to trust me.” - Lucas Foglia
Published on the 20th anniversary of the September 11 attacks, Lucas Foglia’s portraits show the tremendous diversity of New York City. Everyone is portrayed with dignity, regardless of age, gender, sexual orientation, or ethnicity. Today, as the world begins to heal from the coronavirus pandemic, the photographs remind us to approach strangers with compassion, across social distances.
As a young adult Jörgen Axelvall moved to New York City and soon made a curiously illuminating discovery about himself. The works in this book represent a visual testament to his discovery, explained and reflected upon in a short story penned by Axelvall.
"And I reminisce" is Axelvall’s life-work and attempt to recapture time. It’s an intimate collection of photographs – portraits of friends, lovers and young men personifying Axelvall’s ‘visual memories’ from childhood through adolescence - paired with photographs of flowers. The flowers, captured in much the same style as Axelvall’s portraits, represent an equally crucial part of Axelvall’s early memories, as we soon learn from the introductory text. Setting out with his predilection for Polaroid and Instant Films, to connect with the traditions of casual, studio, and illicit photography, Axelvall pursues the immediacy and tactility to preserve the thrill of each fresh encounter. The photographs are meticulously scanned for subsequent treatment. With the regularly occurring flaws and imperfections of Instant Film as well as Axelvall’s preference for photographing in low, natural light – always handheld and with slow shutter speeds - the resulting photographs have a painterly quality. Axelvall is not simply taking portraits or depicting memories though. In his own words:
“Taking pictures of people I feel affection for is a way of getting to know them better, to get a deeper understanding, to love more. The camera allows me to converse without words, to gaze into somebody’s mind and soul. I watch, study and try to capture the beauty I see.”: "And I reminisce" might be an exploration of Axelvall’s past but it is not a search for an idyllic past that inaccurately occurred; Axelvall is seeking clues and junctions that would have altered his present if acknowledged or acted upon earlier. Included with the book is a pamphlet titled 「ruminations」 comprising two short essays by Paul McInnes and Yuki Harada, both accomplished writers. Through these texts we get further insight into Axelvall’s work method and personality.