Archives for posts with tag: documenting

 

Daniel CoburnDad’s Authority

A complicated relationship with family, and an immersive experience with an evangelical Christian church resulted in my loss of spiritual and domestic faith. My work relates specifically to these personal struggles and explores the quiet suffering that occurs within the perimeter of a family unit living under the auspices of the American Dream. — Daniel W. Coburn

It’s difficult to pinpoint why Daniel W. Coburn’s Next of Kin feels so particularly powerful and honest. Shot in the heart of rural Kansas, the raw unbridled nature of one family’s relationship bleeds through what should be a series of mundane images. Titles for each photograph render simple yet telling hints of an internal dialogue that can only exist from years of things unsaid and every detail feels deeply personal. Coburn captures the silent drama of something so close to him it leaves the viewer unable to separate themselves from the emotion present in every frame. Perhaps it is this homely confrontation that leaves us so spellbound, a mixture of resentment, questions, and hurt always present in a ferocious love. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Daniel W. Coburn

Daniel_Coburn_01Mom Cooling Off in the Pool

Daniel CoburnDad Preparing His Meat

Daniel CoburnLila Breaks

Daniel CoburnMom as Martyr

Daniel CoburnSomewhere Far Away

Daniel CoburnJake’s Embrace

Daniel CoburnDane On His Last Leg

Daniel CoburnDisposal

Daniel CoburnEssential Accessories

Daniel CoburnMom Has the Final Say

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Salva Lopez

Through this project I do not attempt to create a faithful portrait of their reality. Instead, I hope to recreate the reality of the experience of living with them. — Salva López

Spanish photographer Salva López documents the 5 years he spent with his grandparents in his poignant series Roig 26. Living in a tiny flat in central Barcelona, López slept in the very room where his grandmother was born decades before. From this stage of domestic history, a portrait is painted of Jóse and Marina, their daily lives and patterns washed in soft light and quiet words. Though he acknowledges that his familial archetypes exist in a world of roles and customs foreign to him, Lopez’s view is one of a compassionate participant, full of ever-present love and understanding for those who represent a part of himself. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Salva López

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Markus_Altmann_Photography

Shot in 1995, Las Vegas 95 is Berlin-based and Wonderful Machine photographer Markus Altmann’s look at sin city in the midst of its transformation from an old gambling town to a family entertainment metropolis, stacked high with mega hotels and theme parks. Intrigued by the aesthetics of the newly constructed facades and how they relate to the seemingly more authentic realities of the older surroundings, Altmann weaves together surreal, almost otherworldly shots that give off the feel they are at once set in the past and future. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Markus Altmann

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David Vintiner

In 2012, as well as the Olympics, London played host to the World Memory Championships.  Contestants travel from far and wide to sit a series of challenges, such as memorising a number containing as many as 2200 digits.  My series ‘Recall’ reveals some of the methods these talented participants use to succeed, as well as the mental strain of this idiosyncratic event. — David Vintiner

English photographer David Vintiner opens the door to a quirky world filled with drama and challenge, all while quietly sitting perfectly still. In his series Recall, Vintiner documents the over 70 participants in various memory tests, from memorizing an entire pack of cards to a set of names and faces. Though their poses and ‘equipment’ might seem humorous, this year’s champion Johannes Mallow mastered a number of 2,245 digits in an hour and a number with 500 digits in 5 minutes, setting a new world record. The challenges take place in sterile lighting and gymnasium interiors, but the intensity with which the participants battle is every bit as rigorous as its’ physical counterpart in the Olympics this past year. The competition was so fierce that Vintiner was required to sit absolutely still and silent during the events so as not to disturb the mental athletics taking place. In a roll less celebrated, the intellectual triumphs of Recall are every bit as noble and grand in strength, proving human achievement and uncanny ability stretch farther than we could ever imagine. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © David Vintiner

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Laura_Glabman_Photography

It takes years of gardening, pruning, and shaping to create and maintain the identity of a neighbourhood. In one day, this foundation of hopes and dreams was swept away in the flood waters of the hurricane. During the months of recovery it did not become as apparent as when the spring season arrived as to how much Sandy had changed the landscape. The dead trees appear everywhere in the neighborhood and have become a daily reminder of the devastation that took place here. Homeowners, who had to deal with repairing and replacing the contents of their homes, had no choice but to put fixing their exterior properties on hold as they recover their living space. It’s been almost a year since the storm, and still my neighbourhood has yet to fully recover. These photographs provide testimony that as with the change of seasons, there is hope for renewal but it will take a very long time.—Laura Glabman

As we approach the one year anniversary of Hurricane Sandy on October 29th, Long Island-based photographer Laura Glabman reminds us of the devastating effects of the superstorm that claimed almost 300 lives in seven countries and was the second-costliest hurricane in US history. In an ongoing series she calls The Spring After the Storm, Glabman turns the lens on her own neighbourhood to document the changed domestic landscape, now characterized by more dead trees than not. And while with damage comes recovery, for now she documents what stands before her—a stark contrast to what was before. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Laura Glabman

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Mike Rebholz

On the southern tier lakes of Wisconsin, “10 Weeks” is typically the period between late December when a thick enough layer of the lake freezes and ices over, until the first Sunday after the first day of March. It’s during this time when you’ll find Mike Rebholz on one of the five lakes near his home town of Madison making pictures of the ice shacks and the culture that exists within them. Rebholz, an architectural photographer and self-described born and bred mid-westerner, was initially fascinated by the abstract nature of these lone structures resting upon lakes of ice. Because there are no regulations, the creators of these shacks, the fishermen, are free to build whatever type of structure they fancy. Thus, the design and adornment completely represent the sensibilities of their creators, and the near endless backdrop of ice and sky makes for the perfect seamless, accentuating the form and colour of each shack while reinforcing the singularity and expression of its creator and occupant. Rebholz isn’t content making 10 Weeks a mere typology of ice shacks; he goes deeper and examines the distinctiveness within each structure. In the process, he has discovered, like any other sporting event, that the fishermen span the cultural gamut of the local population and the variance equally vast in how they entertain themselves when the fish aren’t biting. Yet whether it’s overcast and miserably cold, or sunny and transcendently beautiful, from shack to shack the fishermen all share a common longing—their camaraderie and being some place they love. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Mike Rebholz

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Zed_Nelson_Photography

As our role models become ever younger and more idealized, we are so afraid of aging that the quest for youthful preservation generates an almost pathological obsession with our bodies. As we align our sense of self-worth with self-image, the psychological and emotional consequences are tortuous. The one thing we do know for certain is that our body will always, in the end, betray us.
—Zed Nelson

Love Me is a series by London-based photographer Zed Nelson that explores the insidious power of the global beauty industry and reflects on the cultural and commercial forces that drive pathological obsessions with youth and beauty. Shot over the last five years in 18 countries across five continents, the series brings into question our place within a culture that compels us to endlessly judge, and be judged, by our appearance. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Zed Nelson

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Andrew Miksys

In 1981 my father started publishing the Bingo Today newspaper in Seattle.  It was filled with photographs he took of bingo players and stories about the prizes they won. Advertising for local bingo halls paid the bills. My mom wrote the horoscopes. I was introduced to the world of bingo when I was eleven and my parents took me to a bingo session for kids. I won $300 … Bingo seemed all right to me. In very little time it had bought me fortune and the envy of all my friends. When I got my driver’s license at sixteen, my dad gave me the job of delivering the Bingo Today to bingo halls and convenience stores all around Seattle. Ten years later I returned to visit my parents for Christmas and decided to revisit the some of the bingo halls with my camera.  The managers and regulars greeted me warmly and I began photographing for this project. Over the next six or seven years I expanded the project and photographed in many other bingo halls around the United States. — Andrew Miksys

Washington state photographer Andrew Miksys has an unexpected way of shooting his subjects, their expressions often filled with a pause or an unfinished thought. The history of the photographer’s relationship with this small community translates into personal, relatable portraits where every face feels like some one we may know. Though documenting a piece of one’s past often proves difficult, Miksys does not step back for clarity, but moves in closer and opens the door. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Andrew Miksys

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David Nevala

While shooting for Organic Valley, America’s largest cooperative of organic farmers, Madison-based photographer David Nevala was asked to visit an Amish farm in Hillsboro, Wisconsin in efforts to capture the diversity of the cooperative. Photography and the Amish don’t exactly mix—humility being a core value has deemed the photograph too prideful; its capture of individuality a threat to community harmony. Furthermore photographs are seen as a violation of the Second Commandment, “Thou shalt not make unto thyself a graven image.” Faced with quite the ‘No Pictures, Please’ scenario, Nevala handed over ultimate veto power to the patriarch of the farm for any and all photographs taken. At the end of the shoot, contact sheets were presented for review. Nevala recalls, “When I returned with the contact sheets, I sat with the father on a shaded porch, mostly in silence. The kids swarmed around a second set of contact sheets until the father quieted and shooed them away. Once he finished his edit, I had contact sheets with selects, not too unlike my own editing process. The remaining pictures had mostly children and pictures of adults were predictably scratched out.” While we’d love to know which ones didn’t make the cut, Nevala’s Amish Farm delivers that fascinating mix of old times in a modern world so specific to the Amish through images that feel like they’ve been taken out of a book—telling stories of childhood adventure in a place that seems far away and long ago. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © David Nevala

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Michael_Vahrenwald_PhotographyLincoln Savings Bank, Brooklyn, NY 2011

We know what iconic structures such as the Taj Mahal, the Eiffel Tower, the Acropolis, and the like can teach us about the era and culture in which they were built. Less obvious is noticing buildings that might do the same today. NYC-based photographer Michael Vahrenwald’s project The People’s Trust proposes that we can derive information about our culture and its values through “looking at the structures that host our financial transactions and their legacies.” Starting on Wall Street and then branching out into Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, Upper Manhattan and into the broader United States, these images of banks—each squarely shot, a bit worn, abandoned or embellished upon—builds into a final crescendo of overwhelming solitude and dignity. What will our banks and other institutions of wealth say about us in a century? Will any be standing? We recently talked to Vahrenwald about what he thinks.

What should we do with things that “once were?” Do we honor them? Re-build them? Mourn them?
“There is an inherent sadness in the work. For me, it’s about the ambivalence of power and its legacies. I’m interested in the information that we can gather from this architecture. We’re looking at a past system of values and its remnants. As to what to do with things that once were, I’m not a preservationist, nor am I sentimental. The most important thing we can do is pay attention to them, ask questions of them, determine what value they had in the past as well as what value they have today. We need reflect on these transitions and what they mean in a larger context.” Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Michael Vahrenwald

Michael_Vahrenwald_PhotographyUntitled, Detroit, MI 2012

Did you learn anything about our country in the making of these images? About its people?
“I’m always surprised at what I learn while working on a project. The fundamental nature of photography is a negotiation with the world. Subject matter in photography is never simply what an artist had in mind. I’m surprised at how regional many of these former banks were, some were very small and very specific, either based on a location or a trade. Recently, I’ve taken an interest in the history of the pawn shop, which began as a surrogate bank for the poor, functioning very much like larger more formal banks. As far as my history is concerned, there’s no specific event in my life that lead me to this project. I’ve always been interested in the built world, systems of economics and power. I’m as familiar with banking and finance as anyone else, it’s an inescapable part the world that we live in.”

Michael_Vahrenwald_PhotographyThe People’s Trust, Brooklyn, NY, 2011

Michael_Vahrenwald_PhotographyS. Jarmulowsky’s Bank, New York, NY, 2011

Michael_Vahrenwald_PhotographyCicero Trust and Savings Bank, Cicero, IL, 2012

Michael VahrenwaldThe Provident Loan Society of New York, Brooklyn, NY, 2011

Michael VahrenwaldThe First National City Bank of New York, NY, 2011

Michael VahrenwaldUnknown, Brooklyn, NY, 2013

Michael VahrenwaldDetroit Savings Bank, Detroit, MI 2012

Michael VahrenwaldUnknown, Church, Bronx, NY 2012