Silent clues to a violent past are buried among the scores of mass graves that dot Chungui district in the mountainous Ayacucho region of Peru. There, above layers of earth that mark geological time, lie relatively new remnants attesting to the massacres carried out by both the Shining Path guerrillas and the military and police forces that hunted them.

The Magnum photojournalist Moises Saman was in Bangladesh this past week documenting the conditions Rohingya are enduring as they flee, whether wading through the river that marks the border between the two countries, making desperate efforts to obtain food and shelter, or finding dignified ways to bury their dead

540 people inhabit an island the size of two soccer fields. This photography series by Colombian photographer Charlie Cordero takes us to one of the most densely populated islands on the planet. There’s no water, no cops, no priests or doctors, neither armed conflict. There are 97 houses in which 18 families live. A school. A restaurant that works as a port. And a small square with a cross in the middle that give  the island name: Santa Cruz del Islote. From the life of the islanders, their interactions and problems, we discover the awakening of this community in a struggle for territory. This project reflects on the role of man as an inhabitant of a society, making this island a metaphor for our world.

During the summer of 2003, while traveling around northern Uruguay, I stopped at the end of a long day to greet a few gauchos gathered around a fire by the side of a dirt road. As is customary, they invited me to share mate, their traditional beverage. As we stared into the fire, the gaucho in charge of the mate passed it around the men, one at a time. They were cattle drovers, herding a thousand head of cattle back to the estancia. I took a chance and asked the eldest one, “Who is the gaucho?” After a long silence he said, “The gaucho is the land he treads upon.” The authority and conviction of the old gaucho’s words had an immediate impact on me, and the phrase would become the cornerstone of my work and my guiding compass as I embarked on a journey through South and North America, photographing the different groups of cowboys.

Ernesto Bazan was teaching a workshop in Brazil in 2013 when he received a call that his father, a surgeon and professor of medicine, had died in Sicily. He rushed home to Palermo, arriving just in time for the viewing, a powerful, if painful moment. Afterward, the body was cremated.

Four decades ago Jimmy Carter was sworn in as the 39th president of the United States, the original Star Wars movie was released in theaters, the Trans-Alaska pipeline pumped its first barrels of oil, New York City suffered a massive blackout, Radio Shack introduced its new TRS-80 Micro Computer, Grace Jones was a disco queen, the Brazilian soccer star Pele played his “sayonara” game in Japan, and much more. Take a step into a visual time capsule now, for a brief look at the year 1977.

Iggy Smalls‘ project Neverland investigates the ability of a photograph to present stories as truth. Through a sequence of photographs of real objects and real places, Iggy creates a fictitious place that is grounded in reality. From small, mysterious everyday moments, to larger descriptive landscapes, she encourages a direct connection with day to day experience while also leaving room for interpretation. Using colorful abstraction and straightforward observation, Iggy’s work reveals connections between things big and small, literal and curious, and allows the scenes depicted to be left to the viewer’s imagination.