In this brave account of a family navigating breast cancer, Anna and Jordan Rathkopf turn the camera on each other. Capturing resilience, vulnerability and the tenderness of caregiving, the book offers an honest look at how chronic illness impacts all areas of life.
We Are Here is admirably diverse, and many of the pictures are great. Highlights include the lush, wacky, fashion-forward work that Feng Li has been making on the streets of Chengdu, China; Romuald Hazoumè’s cheeky sculptural typologies of laden bike riders in Benin; the oneiric pictures of 1990s Saint Petersburg by Alexey Titarenko; a collection of era-defining 1990s Japanese street-style pictures that Shoichi Aoki shot for his magazine FRUiTS; and exuberant pictures of children’s play in gritty 1970s New York by graffiti documentarian Martha Cooper, which elaborate on earlier projects by Helen Levitt and Arthur Leipzig. Yet the exhibition is also dogged by a nagging question: Is twenty-first-century street photography hopelessly outmoded?
For Nasseri, politics are, first and foremost, about people—their faces, their gestures, their often mundane interactions and environments—and he’s interested in exploring this theme even when not on explicitly newsy assignments. Luckily, the R.N.C. provided opportunities for additional discovery: instead of flying to the Convention, Nasseri decided to drive from Los Angeles to Milwaukee and back, spending three weeks on the road capturing what he encountered in some seventeen states. “I wanted to see how we live as Americans in the shadow of the Presidential election,” he told me recently.
Hans Gremmen is a graphic designer based in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. He works in the field of photography, architecture and fine art and has designed over 300 books. He has won various awards for his experimental designs, among them a Golden Medal in the Best Book Design from all over the World competition. In 2008, he founded Fw:Books, a publishing house with a focus on photography-related projects. Together with Roma Publications, he recently founded ENTER ENTER, a project space in the centre of Amsterdam which explores the boundaries of the book.
Perfection is fine conceptually, but it should never be the goal. In fact, I think perfect books are very boring. A book should have an edge, some friction. I mean that a book should have some level of desire to make you uncomfortable, because in that way a viewer has to bring something to the book. You are going to be sharper, more present when looking at the work. Perfection lets the viewer be lazy.
The expansive catalog offers an essential compilation of essays, interviews, and profiles of Japanese women photographers from the 1950s through the present day.
Earlier this year, I was able to participate in the New England Portfolio Review hosted by The Griffin Museum of Photography. I am always happy to sit down and discuss the creative work with other artists who are genuinely excited about what they are making. It is informative, rousing, and delightful. Over the next few days,
AH: I’ve been a newspaper photographer for nearly 15 years and the early part of my career was spent in local newsrooms, so I understand how they work and what to highlight. I known to look for the police scanner, I know to ask where the newspaper morgue is and I know that I can usually find a bottle of whiskey in the office supply closet.
Among the most notable events captured by Lowe’s camera were the Siege of Sarajevo during the collapse of former Yugoslavia; the toppling of the Berlin Wall; and the release of South African anti-apartheid activist Nelson Mandela from prison.
Award-winning British photojournalist and combat photographer Paul Lowe has died at age 60. He was killed in a stabbing on a popular hiking trail near Los Angeles, and authorities say his 19-year-old son Emir has been arrested for the murder.
The knowledge that Halide won’t gloss over imperfections makes me slow down and consider the creative process for a beat longer. It makes me think more about what I’m seeing
Afghanistan’s Taliban morality ministry says it will implement a new law that bans any photo that depicts a living thing from being published. This rule applies to everyone, including the media.
Leica is honoring renowned German photographer Herlinde Koelbl with the Leica Hall of Fame Award for her lifetime of photographic achievements. One of Koelbl’s photos has also been named the Leica Picture of the Year 2024, and the limited-edition print will be available exclusively at Leica Galleries.
Photography Educator is a new monthly series on Lenscratch. Once a month, we celebrate a dedicated photography teacher by sharing their insights, strategies and excellence in inspiring students of all ages. These educators play a transformative role in student development, acting as mentors and guides who create environments where students feel valued and supported, fostering confidence
I was very fortunate to have several mentors, and, of course, the most influential was my father who was also my closest friend. I was mostly influenced by his example. He had a sign up in his studio that read NEVER STOP WORKING. He worked through slumps and discouragement.
In a conversation last year, an artist friend of mine and I discussed the need for a space to discover zines. In some ways a space like the one we discussed, digitally available to an international audience, is antithetical to the very idea of the zine which is generally considered to be defined as a
In a conversation last year, an artist friend of mine and I discussed the need for a space to discover zines. In some ways a space like the one we discussed, digitally available to an international audience, is antithetical to the very idea of the zine which is generally considered to be defined as a small-circulation publication. The more I talked to people, however, the more the definition of the zine became labyrinthine in nature. In hopes of finding a singular definition, I turned to the history of the form.
“The bastards,” Flores said, when I spoke with him recently. “They used my shit as source material, and all they gave me was a free subscription to The New Republic.” They gave him no credit, and little compensation. But Flores kept capturing images of his neighborhood, and beyond