"I am often attracted by what repulses or scares the others. I like misfits, outcasts, eccentrics, those who don’t fit in the norms. Although I look quite normal and common, I identify in a way with those who do not fit in society. For this reason, I followed the Black Label Bike Club for about 3 years when I was living in NY. The Black Label Bike Club is known as the first “outlaw bicycle club.” It was created in 1992 by Jacob Houle and Per Hanson in Minneapolis, Minnesota and has chapters nationwide. They are one of the main contributors to the rise of tall bike culture and organize jousting competitions. It is interesting to see this destructive, rebel culture revolving around such a non-threatening object: the bicycle.
I consider them as a blend of punk, grunge and hippie culture. They are an independent community rebelling against the system. In a society that pushes us to consume, focus on money and overly use technology, it is interesting to see a group of young people resisting and fighting against it. Their community is mainly based on the bike culture, art and on the real value of relationships; these basic, simple values that seem to have disappeared. This particularly affected me when I was in NYC and everyone seemed to be living virtually on social networks and obsessed by success. These “kids” felt real: they speak frankly and are not afraid to take risks and hurt themselves (physically or life decisions). They are living in the moment, in a risk-less society yearning for security. They are passionate, well-read, talented young people with real discussions.
When I find subcultures like the Black Label Bike Club, a creative group, using very little technology, interested in defending causes and resisting the main stream, it gives me hope, and I think it could be very encouraging for today’s youth."
_ Julie Glassberg
New trade edition (untitled) of 400 copies, of this acclaimed book originally created during the Reminders Photography Stronghold Photobook workshop.
Part memoir, part tableau, Corbeau is a multi-layered narrative collage tracing life and death in the rural farm on which Swiss artist Anne Golaz grew up. Made over a twelve-year period and bridging three generations, the three-part book weaves together photographs, video stills and drawings, with texts by the author, screenwriter and playwright, Antoine Jaccoud, as well as the artist’s own writings. Jaccoud reconstructs transcripts of conversations between family members and memories recounted by the artist in order to help to build this intricate story of stories into a dramatalogical work. The protagonist of Corbeau is a young man seen in each chapter dutifully working on the farm. Gradually, however, his sense of duty appears to be instilled with doubt – one that infuses the entire book.
Exploring themes of time, life, destiny and death, Corbeau – which takes its title from an enigmatic poem by Edgar Allan Poe – eludes a chronological order to picture a place in which the future is only reminiscent of the past. And where destiny is shaped in the claire-obscures nooks of childhood. In the artist’s words, the narrative construction exists ‘in a vacuum’, which tellingly offers a framework for both support and destruction. It is within such a circumscribed space that mixed feelings towards heritage arise.
THE GRAY LINE is Laura Rodari’s first book, ‘the work who came out of visceral feelings and melancholy’, as she would tell you. Laura whispers, sometimes. She does it to time, to thoughts, to the universe and to its inhabitants. The response is mutual, bodily gut-deep mutual. Landscapes bend under her eyes, faces crumble, time evolves in the opposite direction and its arrow moves continuously as the most unrest being. THE GRAY LINE is this place in between past present and future, barely visible, an acknowledgment of absolute solitude. Both the origin and the end, along with light, beauty, joy and death. Nowhere life is more viscerally needed.
the womb is frail, the distance ephemeral, the consumption of a latent promise, the fog, the sentimental no, the agreement of death, the key to the senses
the lack of language, hers, after her.
the womb is frail when empty, the presence ethereal, time produces quakes on the shroud of eternity, the thickness, the density, nearly here never again
men and women walking, the darkness they bear, beating the glimpsed years ahead until they are, you Mother, the dim and the faint, flowers in your garden smell, they died and they bloomed again, they die and they bloom always.
Slipcased edition of 300 handmade copies. 61 images of which 24 torn and tipped in.
Final few copies with faint bump to slipcase (see example image)
In March 2016, the Japanese Academy of Pediatrics announced that they estimated 350 children across the country died due to abuse. According to the Ministry of Health, Education, and Welfare’s tally, roughly 90 children per year die due to abuse, including forced double suicide. So 260 children’s deaths are being overlooked.
Upon discovering this anomaly, Japanese photographer Miki Hasegawa started her own research on child abuse cases. Hasegawa interviewed the child abuse victims, photographed their portraits, and collected and edited materials that summon up their childhood memories such as their diaries, notebooks and photos. This project “Internal Notebook” is her attempt at visualizing the invisible sufferings and traumas of the abused children from her own perspective as a mother and a possible child abuser. Dealing with the social issues facing Japanese woman and children, Hasegawa tries to visualize what exactly maternal love is in such a traditional country. “It seemed to me that their parents were no different from the rest of us in thinking that we were normal parents,” she states. “We can see that the ones who tormented were not just parents but other adults in society as well.” The wide variety in perspectives mark her work and gives an interesting insight into this well-hidden shame of society.
New handmade edition of 500 copies based on the original handmade edition produced at Reminders Photography Stronghold (which was limited to just 66 copies.)
Nekyia has two meanings; the first is the inner journey into the unconscious through which you reconnect with and heal your wounded self. The second is the ancient Greek ritual in which spirits were quizzed on what the future would be.
Using the river Acheron as a guide for my personal nekyia across Epirus, my aim is to create a metaphorical and allegorical perspective on modern day Greece, juxtaposing the mythologic heritage of the region to the current political-economical situation.
“The opening picture is a self-portrait from 1994, it is the first one I ever took. There is a road lined by rows of baby pine trees, newly planted after a big fire. I wanted to confuse the image of myself with that of the trees. I prepared the framing and entered it. We were somewhere around Butte, Montana, USA where I spent a summer working as carpenter’s assistant. I had no consciousness of myself – but a strong desire to have some – and no knowledge of the use of the photographic medium.
For many years I have photographed compulsively almost without looking at the result of my shots. I deeply felt that I wasn’t ready to understand what I was doing. I knew what I was trying to do, but it wasn’t clear on how to shape it, I wasn’t ready to communicate my most intimate work. I was restless (and still am), moving here and there, photographing everything to find my place and my space: this omnivorous longing didn’t and doesn’t allow me to stop.
In 2001 I met Grazia Neri and joined her agency, then in 2003 I was introduced to Christian Caujolle and I entered Agence | Galerie VU’. Altough I felt like an outsider somehow things moved on and I started to make a living with my photography.
I was working on structured projects more consciously and precisely (Nero, Paradiso) but I always kept photographing (mostly in black and white) everything that mattered to me in a constant flux without a specific direction, logic or practical goal.
Despite all this, my every day personal work was still unripe, I tried to put it together and show it in some exhibitions and slideshows without ever getting close to feeling represented by what I was showing. The way I handled my material – that was growing in quantity and complexity – was not precise, not pure enough. I decided to put all that on the side, but kept working on a daily basis out of sheer necessity – without any particular ambition because of my failed expectations.
In the very end of 2011 my best friend suddenly passed away. This event was a catastrophe and changed my life. After one very tough year I returned to life and finally started to look back at what I had been doing for so many years – but with new eyes and real determination. Some kind of filter that I had in front of my eyes was finally gone.
I understood I needed to grow and have distance to see things because being into something means understand nothing. I have also realised that I have been through specific periods in which I have lived crucial experiences that then brought me in different places. An imaginary map of belonging was finally showing its boundaries.
The passage of time shapes a new alphabet, a new language, and stimulates a revelation: memory emerges, my experience melts with something I feel is universal.
I have decided to work on A LIFE BOOK MADE OF VOLUMES.
The brilliant book-designer Eloi Gimeno created the size and graphic shape of the series of volumes starting from the covers which are structured on the concept of time conceived as a line that is not straight but takes the form of a maze.
The graphic design is all conceived in black and white.
I have edited the photographic sequence of the first volume 1994-2001 | A BEGINNING and I’ll do the same on the following ones.
There is no rule in terms of length of time: each period (each volume) will be marked by circumstances.
The idea of this collection of volumes is not that of a diary but a literary autobiography.
Soon I will edit the second volume 2001-2007, then the third one 2007-2012, then on and on.
L’Artiere is the publisher of 1994-2001 | A Beginning and will publish all the following volumes of the collection.”
Includes 48 black and white and full color plates printed with UV inks on uncoated paper. Leporello binding with multiple panel widths and stiff front and back covers. Spine closure printed on synthetic paper with an essay by Mark Alice Durant.
With the spine detached from the front cover, the book becomes an installation piece approximately 34 feet in length.
Hexamiles (Mont-Voisin) has been published on the occasion of Batia Suter's exhibition at the Mauvoisin Dam in Switzerland (built 2,000 meters above sea level, it is the highest dam in Europe). For this artist book, Suter focused on her ever-expanding archive of scanned landscape images, which had already started to play an important role in Parallel Encyclopedia #2 (Roma 284, 2016). Many of those images depict wastelands, alternating between romantic and menacing views which simultaneously create sensations of majesty and disorientation. By layering them over each other, a variety of disparate geological and biological environments merge into composite landscapes we might only recognise from dreams and fairy tales. In the books sequence, a kind of adventurous journey takes shape, pitched between an odyssey, a safari and paradise. The books title is derived from the term Hexameter,a poetic form of writing used in Homer's Odyssey. Mont-Voisin, which also serves as the title for the exhibition, is inspired by different spellings used by 18th and 19th century travellers to describe Mauvoisin.
The boyfriend’s parents can’t accept her age after all, and their relationship ended there. That’s how Chinese photographer Yingguang Guo (b. 1983) became single at the age of 33, a “left-over woman”, considered by the eyes of contemporary Chinese society. Burdened by all of the questions she could not find answers to, Guo went to the People’s Park in Shanghai to perform as her own “matchmaker”, holding a sign with her own accomplishments, while the parents come sniffing around to assess her suitability for their children.
In addition to being a place of relaxation, Shanghai People’s Park is also a well-known market for matchmaking that has been in existence for ten years. Hundreds of parents gather there every weekend regardless of weather, clutching succinct summaries of their children on single information sheets that contain their age, height, education, job, salary etc. all in an effort to find an “acceptable” partner for their child to marry.
By photographing daily scenes and details of personal adds at the matchmaking corner, Guo also uses photo-etching techniques to create a series of abstract images that reveal the turbulent truths of arranged marriages beneath the seemingly calm surface depicted by peaceful images of the park, such as traditional intergenerational relationships and views of marriage, as well as discrimination against the so-called “left-over women”.
A pale yellow glow in the late night gloom illuminating the near deserted street below, the neon sign of a first floor restaurant: Magic Party Place. This is an apt title for CJ Clarke's series of intimate encounters documenting contemporary England through the lives and habits of the post industrial town of Basildon, located 25 miles east of London. A new- town, it was built as part of a massive urban renewal program following the devastation of London in the Second World War. As a constructed community, the town is statistically close to the national average, which makes it the perfect paradigm through which to explore the state of the contemporary English nation. This is Middle England territory, the hearts and minds fought over by political parties for electoral success. Ruggedly individualist in spirit, 73 percent of the town's population label themselves as working class and, in many ways, it epitomizes Thatcher's England, the legacy she left behind and the continuation of such conservative policies which seek to make us consumers first and citizens second.
Stiya is the newest body of work from the Brooklyn based artist, Cole Barash. He uses a unique hyper-focused approach in a study of two pure forms of raw energy, a Nor'Easter storm and the birth of a child.Through composition and sequence, this work considers the experience of these two worlds as one.
At first, I hadn’t made the connection between the two events and was naturally drawn out into photographing the storm and the aftermath. I spent a few days hiking the dunes, the beaches, the ponds and woods, focusing on areas that had been impacted by the storm and areas that hadn’t changed at all. Later realizing that in its seclusion, the space of a storm can be much like the space of a delivery room. The pressure, the buildup, the excitement and fear that come along with witnessing this incredible transformation of energy. Both spaces exclusive to the elements involved in conceiving the change, I was so curious. What was this going to look like?
We were on high alert to be prepared and expect the worst. Receiving notifications, one after another that the Nor’Easter storm Stella was coming. With record breaking winds at 75 miles per hour in Wellfleet, MA where two days prior, we had welcomed our first child, Iya into the world.
The labor lasted four long days and in that time I was drawn to the obscurities in the room. The mirror was especially interesting, providing an alternative perspective to the room and to the relationship between the medical personal and my wife. The variety of shapes and tools, the strong bodily language and communication that was happening in the final stages of delivery to the heroic and monumental moments of my child taking her first breath of fresh air. I was intrigued by all the elements that came together to create the landscape where I was going to have the most important and beautiful experience of my life.
“My father wakes me at three o’clock in the morning as agreed. I’m not sure what’s most exciting, to be up watching TV in the middle of the night, or that man is landing on the moon. No matter which, the grainy black-and-white television image of Neil Armstrong in a space suit floating down the ladder has stuck on my retina. While man takes the giant leap, 380 439 kilometres from our living room, I take a small step to expand my very own universe.”
In his third book Simon Johansson focus on children and remember his own childhood. The pictures are taken 2002-19.
As the sun fell in the west, Grímsey seemed to emit a vibration, a faint buzzing that can only be felt at certain times in that far-removed place. Its tune, persistent and dense, wove through living rooms and careened over the harbor like a slow pull on a cello. It’s a pulse that can only be sensed, if even for a fleeting moment, during periods of change. The first time, for a young boy, with his father on a fishing boat. Or the loss of a brother, his memory now living in photographs and within the folds of a sweater tucked away in a closet. Or, perhaps, the first sunset alone at the northernmost tip of the island, a place the locals call The Foot. A swooping hook of land that curves down to the water, revealing caves that always seem to be whispering—telling, with a slow exhale, the secrets of the island.
One in five under 18 year olds in the USA is diagnosed as having a mental condition which translates itself into behavioral problems. Often this is treated with medication which can start from an extremely young age.
Over a six-year period Bapitiste Lignel followed the progress of nine American teenagers with an array of pathologies which lead to behavior problems such as ADHD and OCD as well as depression and anxiety. In candid interviews the teenagers talk about their diagnoses and the impact that their medical treatment has had on their lives.
Photographs are combined with elements found in popular culture and social media, showing us what image is reflected back from society - often a negative one. Far from trivializing the difficulties these young people face, this combination brings additional voices to the narrative, and broadens its scope. It contributes to drawing a balanced picture of a complex topic, often simplified and stigmatized by the media.
The reality of a politically turbulent Korea, captured by a native outsider.
In 1988, when Seoul was gearing up to host the Olympic Games, Korean photographer Koo Bohnchang had just returned from a long sojourn in Germany. An outsider in his own country, Bohnchang’s senses were acutely tuned to the messier parts of Korea’s shift; he found himself unsettled by Seoul’s treacherous way of marketing itself.
In his brilliant series “Clandestine Pursuit in the Long Afternoon”, Bohnchang positions fragments—furniture abandoned on the side of a road, statues, silhouettes of strangers, a close-up of a holstered gun—into a rhythmic whole that suggests a perilous, explosive atmosphere lingering just below the surface. Each single shot possesses the power to work on its own—due to a photographic sense that seems ahead of its time—but woven together, the series unfolds its true, almost existentialist strength.
30 years after its creation, the series is finally published in a photobook by Tokyo-based Zen Foto Gallery.
“Control deals with the dark side of the aftermath of the 2000s in Turkey, where instincts collided with modernism. The story of a night in Istanbul includes sex workers, dog fights, gun violence and political armed conflict. At first glance, these activities seem different, but once we delve deeper into these stories we can see that they are part of the same chain of motives. Turkey entered a new political climate after the 2000s. The climate, which has become increasingly conservative, has given certain ideologies a platform and at the same time led people with opposing thoughts be vilified and pushed into the night. These include secret sex parties and dog fight competitions. Armed political conflicts that arise due to social issues and pressures in the country are also emerging at night.
I moved to the Gazi district of Istanbul in 2014 to complete the Night Blind project. I am currently photographing the armed political conflicts, dog fights and sex parties that take place in Gazi and other segregated neighborhoods in Istanbul. The common factor between the segregated neighborhoods is that the residents are mainly Kurds, Alevi’s and refugees. In recent times the government has increased the pressure, and are looking into different policies to wipe out these segregated neighborhoods. The conflicts in the east of the country, often increase the severity of the pressures applied to these neighborhoods. Long term projects such as urban transformation are being introduced and dissembling the culture created in these neighborhoods. Problems within the education system also bring pressure and problems to the neighborhoods. There are simply not enough schools in these areas to cater to the population and there are also not enough teachers which results in most of the children leaving school without completing high school. This causes the children to carry out their potential in other areas. The children grow up trying to prove themselves from a very young age. Unfortunately this leads some to follow a path that leads to drug trafficking or taking part in illegal dog fights. After a while, this becomes a way of life. Sexual activities are one of the most secretive events that are pushed into the night. Those who cannot live out their different sexual orientations and preferences within society, live them secretly at night. People from different classes and professions come together to organize sex parties. Those who participate in these events are usually people who are forced to hide their sexual orientations and preferences from society. ”
Emi Anrakuji’s “Balloon Position” is a stream-of-conscious-like unfolding of the artist’s conflicted soul. Taken twenty years ago, the soft, sensual black-and-white photos form a visual poem about loneliness and existential confusion.
“I cannot explain this photobook in words.” – Emi Anrakuji
Edition of 500 copies.
Shortlisted for Paris Photo Aperture Foundation Photobook of the Year 2019.
For me, wandering the streets, pointing my camera and pressing the shutter button an what I encounter here, may be quite like how I collected insects as a young child, absorbed in the hunt until past sundown. Instead of the insects I once hunted, now the people and things I encounter throughout the city, are caught in the finder of the camera I hold in place of the insect net, capturing them onto film. I keep walking, in order to come upon such scenes. I walk as if to crawl through Tokyo streets. What does "There" in the title point to? It may be here where we are now, or it may be elsewhere. Who knows wether there is any meaning in continuing this haphazard shooting. But I do believe that in continuing, I may eventually arrive "there". And so I keep walking.
In the darkroom, I develop the film from scenes I've collected and imprint them onto photographic paper. The act is akin to that of mounting collected insects and creating specimens. As they emerge slowly in the developing fluid, these scenes all feel more mysterious than the moment I encountered them. Just as each insect specimen I created as a child was a singular treasure belonging only to me, the moment these scenes are manifested on the paper as photographs, they become mine alone. Surely, the world unfurling from the accumulation of these scenes is "There", which I had kept on walking towards: still uncertain, but with its contours gradually coming into clear view. - Gen Sakuma
Beautifully designed cloth-covered hardback. Edition of 600 copies.
J Carrier has had a nomadic lifestyle, moving from Washington D.C. to Ecuador, and then to Africa and the Middle East, every move taking him further from his friends and family. During his time in Israel, Carrier began to feel an affinity with the migrants who had landed in the dusty city of Tel Aviv, relating to their experience as an outsider, someone far from home. Elementary Calculus, through a series of portraits, landscapes and still life photographs, observes the publicly private moments of these peregrine foreigners as they attempt to connect back to their homes. In his documentation of migrants and refugees in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, Carrier explores the distance between reality and desire – the want for what was and the hope for what will be – and traces the manner in which we navigate the points between the unknowns. His photographs resonate with the sense that in a foreign country geographical distance loses its physical measure and home feels like a hazy memory, a half-remembered dream. Carrier’s subtle yet striking images of Israel and the West Bank throw up more questions than they answer. What does this influx of foreigners mean in a nation that is defined by ethnicity and competing claims of ownership? And how does this complex situation affect these new varieties of refugees? Is there promise in this land for them? After graduating with a degree in biological sciences, J. Carrier became a drummer in a punk-rock band. He spent most of the past decade living and working in Africa and Israel and now lives in Brooklyn, NY with his wife. He won the fine art award in the New York Photo Awards in 2010, was the Grand Prize Winner at the National Geographic Traveller / PDN “World in Focus” awards in 2010, and was nominated for the Santa Fe Prize for Photography in 2011.
I have this desire to sum up my life in the form of a story.
My parents killed themselves, one after the other, in the winter of 1998.
My mother’s depression led her to take her own life, and my father followed her nine days later. Having suddenly a closer relationship with death at just 21 years of age, I decided to write down the things I saw around me, as they were, and to capture in photographs the emotions I would only be able to feel then and there.
I was alone in the house we had all lived in as a family. I had almost completely lost sight of the point in living. But even so, I kept on living. Though my parents weren’t there, I had the many paintings my father left me and the family pictures my mother loved taking. They spoke to me and consoled me.
Happiness is “living alongside the people you love”.
Surrounded and engulfed in the love of my parents, I was taught the meaning of happiness. Now, after being blessed with a new family and a child of my own, I am surprised to find myself having conversations with my parents who still live on inside me. The look I give my child overlaps with the look my parents once wrapped me in.It is then I sense my parents are still here with me and I get a feeling of happiness, like I am being watched over.
If you are able to share your love for someone, perhaps you never really die.
In order to continue living with the people I love, I want to share with my family what I have learned from my parents. I would like to also share it with all of you in this book. - Junpei Ueda Special edition with a signed print on Hahnemuhle PhotoRag Baryta 315 gsm, 20 x 30 cm. Choice of sea or trees image.
Kuroyami when translated means “black darkness” and this theme is prevalent throughout the course of the subject matter presented in this volume. An assistant to Araki for a number of years, Sakiko Nomura’s work shares some similarities yet is not as immediately provocative. Sometimes diffused and grainy, the photographs capture people – vulnerable and exposed through (in) direct and filtered light sources. Dark and brooding, the photographs are presented one image per-page in large folio format.
Recommended oversize book. Beautifully printed dark work.
"While growing into one of the biggest centers of coal and steel, Charleroi in Belgium was populated by migrant workers coming from many countries. Today overgrown slag heaps and closed down steelworks remind me of the city's heyday.
Jens Olof Lasthein walks the streets to discover the power and spirit of present-day Charleroi."
A co-production with The Museum of Photography, Seoul. Text in English, Swedish, French and Korean.
Conference of the Birds’ shows an outtake from an analysis of the correlation between time and place and of the historical Iranian landscape. How do places appear and disappear? How do we attach meaning to a certain site and in what way photography can deal with deconstructed icons in comparison to the (a-)historical palm tree sticking out its tongue?
A small desert village has been photographed obsessively and captured from every angle possible. Elements are positioned in the frame so that they are repeated in the next.
The photographs move in closely to the landscape of a palm tree village. The village is small and serene. Palm trees appear all over the place, they are burned, bend, dry and dead. They resemble pillars and artefacts that are left behind on various historical sites and they can be associated with land art installations.
To mark the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, this book premieres the series “Stadtrand Berlin” (Berlin: The City’s Edge) by André Kirchner (*1958), acclaimed Berlin documentary photographer who took the pictures of the then reunited city along its historical border between 1993 and 1994. Kirchner chose a perspective looking inwards on the city from outside. The geographical starting-point was the former border crossing at Drewitz. Moving anti-clockwise, within a year he reached Glienicker Brücke, a bridge on the other side of Potsdam. The 60 single exposures construct a view of the periphery of Greater Berlin within the 234-km boundary defined in 1920, when other parishes were absorbed into the city, which corresponds roughly to its current footprint. The documentary series features not only relics of the Berlin Wall but also farmsteads indicating a rural lifestyle, long avenues, factory ruins left behind by advancing 20th-century industrialisation, and modern-day satellite communities. Kirchner’s quiet panoramas subtly expose traces of 100 years of urban history in a last moment of silence before the rapid post-reunification developments would change these places forever.
In LIAR / LÜGNER Ruth Erdt portrays lies and liars. The book is composed of analogue photography of Erdt’s close acquaintances, unknown figures and landscapes; it questions what, if any, fundamental truth lies in photography. The publication is presented as an arrangement of single black and white and colour pictures interspersed with two-part spreads, which lead towards the central layout. Here a shot of a handful of organic material in liquid is presented in black and white on one page and in colour on the other, illustrating the reproduction that occurs throughout the book as the same prints are shown in and without colour. In her artistic practice Erdt works digitally and with film, and chose images made using the latter for this project because the light that reaches, touches and permeates film in the camera is the last vestige of truth in photography. Paging through LIAR the reader is given few reference points with which they can decipher where reality might be found in these images, leading them to wonder if authenticity can be expected from the medium of photography per se.
Ruth Erdt (born 1966) lives and works in Zurich and Berlin. She studied graphic design and photography at the ZHdK, Zurich University of the Arts. Her work has been exhibited throughout Europe including at the Fotostiftung Schweiz, Fotomuseum Winterthur, Migros Museum Museum für Gegenwartskunst and Haus Konstruktiv among others. Ruth Erdt has been awarded several Swiss federal art awards. LIAR / LÜGNER is her first publication with Kodoji Press.
In 1520, a fleet of four vessels sailing from Spain reach the Isla Grande of Tierra del Fuego. Between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries, the island was successively occupied. The spread of diseases brought by white men -to which they had no natural immunity-, professional assassins hired by landowners, as well as hunger and malnutrition, gradually wiped out the island’s inhabitants. By the beginning of the twentieth century, only 200 of them remained alive with only one surviving to the present day.
Nicolás Janowski recreates the historical imagery associated with Tierra del Fuego as a boundary-place, the last frontier of civilization anchored at the southern end of the habitable land.
The phrases in this book are fragments from various ship’s logs written on board of european expeditions that traveled through Tierra del Fuego between 1520 and 1834.
A selection of photobooks by American photographers, alongside a number of titles focusing on the United States. Image: Mark Steinmetz - South East