“Capitolio,” the new book on Venezuela by Magnum photographer Christopher Anderson, offers a stunning view into Caracas’s descent from its perch as one of Latin America’s most economically advanced, if unequal, cities into a place gripped by low-intensity chaos and fear.
Italian photographer Arianna Sanesi, currently lives in Milan, after studying photography in Bologna and traveling through France and the U.S. She is at the beginning of her career, working as an assistant to Magnum photographer Ferdinando Scianna, but has already found a photographic voice. Arianna has an interesting series featured below, on the changing vista of China–the old and the new juxtasposed for thought provoking comparisons
Boogie hurried past me, chasing a butterfly. He waved his camera ahead of him as he attempted to catch a picture of it in flight. His shutter clicked ferociously as he focused on his mission with the glee of a child. For Boogie, a Serbian photographer, the streets of the world are his playground.
I was sent to cover the final memorial and funeral for Jazmine Thompson – the Bayshore High School cheerleader who was shot and killed last Friday night while riding with friends in a car after her school’s football game. A lot has happened since then. The suspect, 18 year-old Daniel Williams, turned himself in to authorities and is charged with second degree murder. There have been numerous fund-raisers, memorials, and community events. Media outlets began to latch on. Dick Vitale, legendary ESPN broadcaster and local resident has stepped up and cover the funeral expenses.
Donna Ferrato’s raw, energetic black-and-white images capture shadowy figures walking alone on wet pavement. There are compelling scenes of construction workers seen through steam and dust hammering Belgian block pavement, and of celebrities and everyday New Yorkers strolling down side streets as if they were fashion catwalks.
In the case of these photographs, they have lived happily, cared for in the file cabinets at Contact Press Images in New York for the past three decades. Now and then a picture would be licensed but for the most part, as a body of work it remained relatively untouched. Then, about two years ago, I returned from a trip to find that a small conference room at the agency had been papered with 5″x7″ Xerox copies of dozens of photographs from the Revolution. They had been taped up in the timeline sequence they were shot in, and for the first time, I realized that I was looking at the whole story all at once. The progression of the story was laid out, and it made total sense. Jacques Menashe, a reporter with Contact, and Robert Pledge, the director, had, in my absence, put together this visual narrative in a way that really told the story. We worked from this point forward, sharpening details about what happened where, and on which day, cross referencing with both contemporary news accounts and books written about the Revolution. In the end, when we presented the package to the book division at National Geographic a year ago, it was pretty much ready to go. And once they signed on, there were dozens of little detail items that we wanted to make sure were right. Between those accounts, my caption envelopes, and my sometimes fading memory, we managed to structure the book layout in a form which tries to tell the story in the timeline that unfolded. It is a book of history. Yes, photography is memory, and whatever else is written about the Iranian Revolution, and the ways in which it became the precursor for much of what has happened in the Middle East in the last three decades, this book will remain to tell that story.
Far from a simple recording, Stratos Kalafatis seems to be using photography to highlight moments of an experiential relationship with the world around him, idiosyncratic splinters of colour composing a fragmented diary of his life on the island of Skopelos or his short residence in Japan.
Showcase: Neighborly Hatred – Lens Blog – NYTimes.com:
PERPIGNAN, France — If you want to understand why Justyna Mielnikiewicz has spent eight years photographing border disputes and ethnic conflicts in the South Caucasus, you should know two stories from her childhood.
He has slept in churches in Congo for safety while photographing refugees fleeing their own homes. Though he is only 25 years old, Dominic Nahr’s photographs of those refuges and of Congo’s brutal conflict are being exhibited in Perpignan at Visa pour l’Image, the most important international photojournalism festival.
Balazs Gardi, a Hungarian freelance photographer with VII Network, focuses on everyday life in communities facing humanitarian crises. Although he has won numerous awards for conflict photography, he is on a long-term project to capture water-related social tension and geopolitical disputes.
Philip Blenkinsop of NOOR agency, since settling in Asia in 1989, has pursued forgotten conflicts: in East Timor with Falintil guerrillas; in Borneo among tribal wars and cannibals; deep in Laos where Hmong veterans seek refuge. After picturing China’s Yellow River basin for Paris Match, he shifted to the environment. Critics call him one of the essential photographers of his generation.
A few years before that, he and I decided to embark on a project about Karabagh: a remote mountainous area next to Armenia. A region where the Armenians fought and won a fierce war of independence after the collapse of the Soviet Union. A region still with militarized borders and no political recognition. A place in transformation: the people, the land, the very way of life in political, social, existential upheaval. A place that is part of our distant homeland.
I’ve been a longtime fan of Keith Johnson, his images and his person, and recently spent some enjoyable time on his site catching up with his world. Keith has several new bodies of work and several exhibitions on the horizon. A new exhibition at the Garner Center for Photographic Exhibitions at the New England School of Photography, opened August 24th and runs through October 2nd, featuring work from his Extended Landscapes series.
Riverside is a chapter in a larger on-going project entitled “Marooned”. Marooned of course refers to being stuck on an island. South Korea, though not technically an island, is still cut off from the rest of Asia by North Korea, a barrier more difficult to cross than any sea or ocean. It is therefore a de facto island, an island I have been living on for the last 8 years. “Marooned” is my look at the island that has been my home for nearly a decade, a home that even after 8 years is still a bit of an awkward fit for a foreigner who isn’t quite as immersed as he could be, though it wouldn’t really be possible for a foreigner to immerse himself completely in what is still a rather conservative society.