The President’s wall has yet to become reality. Still, a handful of companies are working on prototype designs, despite worries that a physical wall would be too costly, cause environmental problems, and fail to address smuggling. Others have suggested the idea of a “virtual wall,” using cameras, drones, motion sensors and other high-tech measures to spot those making the perilous crossing. Today’s border is increasingly technological, a mixture of walls, fences and devices both seen and unseen to dissuade would-be crossers. Cameras, both on the ground and in the sky on drones, are at the heart of it all. That’s what caught the attention of Belgian photojournalist Tomas van Houtryve, who has been photographing the border from above with a drone of his own.

Sometimes it seems to me that everything is going to collapse. The houses, grey from soot, and the broken pavements will fall on the mine corridors below. I live in a small town in Silesia, and at some point there might have been something interesting going on here, but it was so long ago, that it is long since buried in memory. It is neither pretty nor ugly. There is no heritage of previous generations, not even any hint of flair in the current ones. If not for the dead mine shafts protruding from below, my town might be located anywhere. Or perhaps here and there.

Daniel Zvereff traces his family’s footsteps from Russia

News of violence and corruption emanating from Mexico is nothing new. And there is possibly nowhere more violent and corrupt than the state of Guerrero. Not only are there rival drug gangs vying over territory used to make heroin, but police are often seen as corrupt, too. According to Reuters, Police were accused of participating in the disappearance of 43 teachers college students in Guerrero in 2014. Indeed, violence and corruption are so bad that, according to Reuters, “it is not uncommon for state, federal and military forces to replace local security forces suspected of corruption and ties to Mexico’s powerful gangs.”

Street photography par excellence shot with the Leica Q

In 1966, after several years spent rambling around the country photographing a Chicago-based motorcycle club, Danny Lyon returned to his native New York City. Lyon had previously worked as the staff photographer for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, and when he moved into a downtown apartment on Beekman Street, at the age of twenty-five, he was already well on the way to making a name for himself. Beekman was dotted with boarded-up buildings. Lyon learned that the block was among the sixty acres below Canal Street slated for clearing, areas that had once been a hub of thriving printing and produce industries but had bled out economically after the Second World War. As Elisabeth Sussman notes in the catalogue for “Message to the Future,” a recent retrospective of Lyon’s work at the Whitney, powerful developers, like David Rockefeller and Robert Moses, saw potential profit in remaking these spaces. But when Lyon looked at them he saw “fossils,” traces of life dating back to before the Civil War. So, with funding from the The New York State Council on the Arts, he set out with a view camera, slipping in and out of demolition sites from the East River to the Hudson. In a project he titled “The Destruction of Lower Manhattan,” he photographed the folks leaving buildings and those tearing them down, and, in so doing, documented the social dismantling that buzzes under every project billed as urban renewal.

In his giant outdoor studio where he controls space, time and light, Alain Laboile watches his six children. He captures moments of nothing, the unexpected as the expected, the blooming as the outbreak, imagination as banality. His tracking shots put everything on hold: the passage of time, the waltz of the clouds, the leaves in the wind. He shapes the humble material of everyday life like organic matter, enchanting it. It is certainly not paradise, nor the angels’ dream life. It is simply life; just life and nothing else.

Emanuele Satolli is an Italian photographer based in Istanbul. Follow him on Instagram @emanuelesatolli.

Protests along the Gaza-Israel border were met with tear gas and live fire from Israeli forces, leaving dozens dead and hundreds wounded on Monday. The Palestinian demonstrations marked a confluence of events, including the opening of the new U.S. Embassy in Jerusalem, (moved from Tel Aviv after President Donald Trump’s decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel), and the upcoming 70th anniversary of what Palestinians call the nakba, or “catastrophe,” the day thousands were driven from their homes in 1948. Reuters reports, citing the Gaza Health Ministry, that at least 43 Palestinians were killed by Israeli gunfire Monday, “the highest toll in a single day since a series of protests demanding the right to return to ancestral homes in Israel began on March 30.”

Cedric Roux with the Leica Q

Fear/Loving is a self-reflective body of work, encompassing experiences shared by those closest to me. Fear of abandonment has been a weight I have carried my entire life, emerging into reality during my early twenties following the separation of my parents after 26 years of marriage. This divided union began to divide me. Investing time and energy into another person became unattainable; expressing my feelings toward another, crippling. Photographing became my coping mechanism, evoking emotional and physical connections which were previously undiscovered. I started becoming a witness to my fears taking hold of others just the same.

“We often confuse it (melancholia) with nostalgia but it is in fact altogether different,” explains photographer Sebastien Zanella. “Melancholia is a suspended state where we are able to observe the world from a distance. Not too happy, not too sad, just as it is. A moment where we are struck by the immensity of what is in front of us, and our inability to change any of it.”

Todd Heisler, a New York Times staff photographer, discusses how people are surviving as the island waits for its electrical grid to be rebuilt.

The masterful Dave Jordano has a new book, A Detroit Nocturne, published by PowerHouse Books. This new monograph continues his documentation of Detroit and reflects a life of looking at people and places with sensitivity and depth. In 2015, he released Detroit: Unbroken Down (powerHouse Books, 2015) which documented the lives of struggling residents, but this new monograph allows us to examine the history and beauty of Detroit at night. Places that are unremarkable in the daylight, take on new incarnations, glowing and proud. The photographs are not nostalgic, instead they are a tribute to the past and present, to the tenacity of a people and a city. As Dave states, “Pieces of the past, present, and future are rendered here to carefully consider. They are after all the physical evidence of where we have carved out our collective ambitions and lived out our dreams.”

orn and raised in Chicago, 22-year-old photographer Sebastián Hidalgo has a front row seat to the changes sweeping through his city. In the Mexican-American community of Pilsen, where he grew up, he’s watched small mom-and-pop stores shut down, rents skyrocket, and families displaced by waves of gentrification that has shown no sign of slowing down in the last two decades. Roads & Kingdoms recently spoke to Hidalgo in New York about his work, and what he hopes people take away from his photographs.

This is beautiful and fascinating, a representation of Paris through the photos shared online. The creator, Moritz Stefaner, used millions of Instagram pictures to create his Multiplicity installation. From those millions he selected 25K, then analyzed and classified them using neural networks and various processing tools. Presented on large screens, it offers touch and joystick control to dive into, pan and zoom through the clusters of images.

The photographs of Gilles Caron are the most comprehensive and enduring record of the civil unrest in Paris during 1968.

Stefano Galli documents mass tourism’s commodification of the American West

I was glad to have a chance to revisit Tira Kahn’s project, Growing Up Girl,  at Fotofest’s The International Meeting Place Reviews. As a participant observer of those under her own roof–in particular, her three daughters–she has a ring side seat to witness and synthesize contemporary girlhood. The series focuses on the exploration of self, long afternoons on the couch, piles of laundry, endless grooming, birthdays, friendships, music, and the trying on of future personas. Tira’s work is authentic in it’s observations, giving us a window into her family’s life, but universal in it’s description of growing up female.