Joan E. Biren began to photograph at a time when it was almost impossible to find authentic images of lesbians and aimed to help build a movement for their liberation.
Joan E. Biren began to photograph at a time when it was almost impossible to find authentic images of lesbians and aimed to help build a movement for their liberation.
Homes make a city. More than buildings, roads, schools, markets, hospitals and shops, it’s homes and the people who live in them that create the life of a place. The Islamic State of Iraq and Syria conquered Raqqa, which it named its first capital, and eventually the Iraqi city of Mosul, where it declared its caliphate, in order to control millions of those lives. Between these twin capitals, ISIS militants ruled with a level of cruelty and madness almost unknown in our time.
Homes make a city. More than buildings, roads, schools, markets, hospitals and shops, it’s homes and the people who live in them that create the life of a place. The Islamic State of Iraq and Syria conquered Raqqa, which it named its first capital, and eventually the Iraqi city of Mosul, where it declared its caliphate, in order to control millions of those lives. Between these twin capitals, ISIS militants ruled with a level of cruelty and madness almost unknown in our time.
Tomas van Houtryve followed Mexico’s long-forgotten northern boundary to meet families who have lived in the region, now forming part of the United States, for centuries.
Tomas van Houtryve followed Mexico’s long-forgotten northern boundary to meet families who have lived in the region, now forming part of the United States, for centuries.
From April 2016 until March 2017, one of the largest protest movements in American history took place on the plains of North Dakota at Standing Rock reservation. Over 15,000 people, including members of more than 300 recognised tribes, gathered at resista
Photographer Ryan Vizzions looks back on one of the largest protest movements in American history: what’s changed since, and what he hopes will come next.
Garie Waltzer’s personal evolution as a photographer in some ways mirrors the wildly radical transformation of the medium itself during the past 50 years. After working as a painter as an undergraduate student, she embraced analog photography; later, she
Garie Waltzer’s personal evolution as a photographer in some ways mirrors the wildly radical transformation of the medium itself during the past 50 years. After working as a painter as an undergraduate student, she embraced analog photography; later, she described her relationship to the medium as being “infused with a love of process and materials” and her work as straddling “the boundaries of what was considered ‘photographic.’” Waltzer was an early adopter of digital imaging, working with scanners and Apple computers in the 1980s; she combined digital output from imaging machines intended for business applications with drawing and other expressive techniques to create large-scale color electrostatic collages. Her hybrid use of imaging technologies and painterly strategies continued throughout the 1990s and into the early 2000s. But, just when, as she describes it, “the avalanche of digital work” revolutionized photography, Waltzer took a hiatus – and when she returned to photography, she came back to the analog world.
The sport is so popular in the North African nation and the region, that it’s been given the Marxist treatment: “We call it the opium of the people,” Fethi Sahraoui said. Since 2015, Mr. Sahraoui has photographed roughly 30 games in his hometown, Mascara, and in neighboring Relizane. The result is “Stadiumphilia.”
A lot has been written about the notorious Rolling Stones concert at Altamont, where dozens of people were beaten and a black teen was killed, but so much of the language around it has been passive, exonerating.
In December, 1969, the photographer Bill Owens got a call from his friend Beth Bagby, who occasionally shot photos for the Associated Press. As Owens explains in his new photo book, “Bill Owens: Altamont 1969,” the A.P. wanted to hire him for a day “to cover a rock and roll concert in the Altamont hills.” The Altamont Speedway concert had been reported as the West Coast’s response to Woodstock. It was also part of a return to public view for the Rolling Stones, who had started touring again, after nearly two years off the road. Their efforts began in July, with a free show in London’s Hyde Park. The concert was a success, an entirely peaceful event financed and filmed by Granada Television. Security had been provided by a ragtag group of people wearing leather, who the Stones mistakenly believed were part of the Hells Angels. Emboldened, the Stones hired the man who organized the Hyde Park concert, Sam Cutler, to work on an American tour in the fall of 1969.
Through Kibera Stories, Brian Otieno looks beyond the stark realities that have defined his hometown’s visual narrative to photograph innovative fashion, art and everyday life.
As Brian Otieno was waiting to start college six years ago, he spent his days snapping pictures with his phone as he wandered the unpaved streets and alleyways of Kibera, a sprawling shantytown on the outskirts of Kenya’s capital, Nairobi. Often referred to as Africa’s largest slum, Kibera is home to up to a million people living side by side in ramshackle homes. Poverty, crime and hardship have long defined its visual narrative.
American photographer Rosalind Fox Solomon is a master of precision and poise, capturing the most compelling moments in life. On April 2 – her 89th birthday –Solomon will receive the Lifetime Achievement Award from the International Centre of Photography.
American photographer Rosalind Fox Solomon is a master of precision and poise, capturing the most compelling moments in life. On April 2 – her 89th birthday –Solomon will receive the Lifetime Achievement Award from the International Centre of Photography.
Transnistria, the no-man’s land between the Republic of Moldova and Ukraine, rarely makes it into the news. With the exception of the short war between 1990 and 1992, when the country was fighting for independence only to later sink back into east block oblivion. It is precisely these kind of isolated places that interest the French photographer Cédric Viollet, who has already been on photographic exploration trips to Lesotho and Hong Kong.
In Elliot Ross’s series, Plainsmen, we are called to the interior American West—a place which, from an outsider’s perspective, is generally romanticized and oversimplified. The region is too often ignored unless it is politically convenient, and it is som
In Elliot Ross’s series, Plainsmen, we are called to the interior American West—a place which, from an outsider’s perspective, is generally romanticized and oversimplified. The region is too often ignored unless it is politically convenient, and it is sometimes flippantly referred to as flyover country. As a person who grew up in rural Colorado, Ross understands the complexities faced by residents in this part of the country. Though the project is sequenced with photographs of people and places, our awareness is continuously being redirected toward the younger generation. They embody the heritage and lifestyle of their parents and connote values typically associated with rural American communities, including honesty and hard work. Despite this, their futures remain uncertain due to growing social and economic distress. Ross poignantly brings this dilemma to our attention and asks us to consider the future of the West and its residents—not the West of mythology, but that of fragile reality.
In Elliot Ross’s series, Plainsmen, we are called to the interior American West—a place which, from an outsider’s perspective, is generally romanticized and oversimplified. The region is too often ignored unless it is politically convenient, and it is som
In Elliot Ross’s series, Plainsmen, we are called to the interior American West—a place which, from an outsider’s perspective, is generally romanticized and oversimplified. The region is too often ignored unless it is politically convenient, and it is sometimes flippantly referred to as flyover country. As a person who grew up in rural Colorado, Ross understands the complexities faced by residents in this part of the country. Though the project is sequenced with photographs of people and places, our awareness is continuously being redirected toward the younger generation. They embody the heritage and lifestyle of their parents and connote values typically associated with rural American communities, including honesty and hard work. Despite this, their futures remain uncertain due to growing social and economic distress. Ross poignantly brings this dilemma to our attention and asks us to consider the future of the West and its residents—not the West of mythology, but that of fragile reality.
Of all the images that the photographer Clémentine Schneidermann and the art director Charlotte James have made of (and with) children in South Wales, few show interior scenes. Here is one, in which, amid the gloom and clatter of a community center, two figures are brightly lit. A young girl with blond ringlets gives the camera a bored glare, while a red-haired boy, wearing a luxe hillock of green fake fur, flashes us his newly augmented fingernails. Beside his sullen companion, the boy looks like a prepubescent night-club impresario, or a glamorous tween art star. In a photographic project that invites children to style and invent themselves, he might be the most daring of all. Elsewhere, you’ll spot him in platform boots and off-the-shoulder brown velour, his face full of cheek, and his cigarette delicately plied.
“Sometimes I feel like I am in a bad dream.” “Everything is aimless and hopeless. I have lost my direction and I don’t know where to go.” “Your dad was…
The photographer Argus Paul Estabrook remembers his mother calling him from the hospital, and he remembers flying from Seoul to be with his family in the United States. But much of his father’s battle with pancreatic cancer remains a blur. By the time he was diagnosed, it had already reached Stage 4, and when it was all said and done, Estabrook‘s father would live for only three more weeks. “Time was really jumbled like that one drawer where nothing is in the right place,” the photographer admits. “Memories become fractured and mixed together.”
Sébastien Van Malleghem Nordic Noir An artistic residence in Norway (Halsnoy Cloister, 2013) ignites a passion with the North. Iceland, then Scandinavia further fuels the flame, revealing a persona…
An artistic residence in Norway (Halsnoy Cloister, 2013) ignites a passion with the North. Iceland, then Scandinavia further fuels the flame, revealing a personal confrontation with an endless space, a passionate and brutal encounter.
The photographer Al Thompson arrived in the United States as a teen-ager from Jamaica, in 1996, to join his mother in Spring Valley, a New York City suburb situated in Rockland County. “What was surprising to me was how big everything was,” Thompson told me recently, about visiting shops and stores during his first days in his new home. Buying CDs, making cassettes, being grounded for the first time, and playing soccer and basketball in Spring Valley Memorial Park—a focal point of the community, where he encountered a medley of “languages, accents, and inflections”—were the activities that initiated him into American teen-age life. At the time, Rockland County was one of the most diverse places in the country, and host to the largest Haitian population outside of the Miami area—Haitian Presidents have made it a point to visit this “Little Haiti” during diplomatic missions in the U.S.
It Is A Miracle We Are Standing Here. The title of the exhibition currently hanging at the International Center for Photography speaks to the crisis of modern day social fabrics, art making, and political climate. When For Freedoms and I began discussing
It Is A Miracle We Are Standing Here. The title of the exhibition currently hanging at the International Center for Photography speaks to the crisis of modern day social fabrics, art making, and political climate. When For Freedoms and I began discussing the creation of this show, and how we could use it as a platform to continue their mission of promoting work and artists creating evocative, politically, and personally motivated work, I immediately saw the connections between their mission and that of the Developer series here on Lenscratch.