Archives for posts with tag: people

 

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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Salva Lopez

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Salva Lopez

Salva Lopez

Salva Lopez

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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David Vintiner

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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Mike Rebholz

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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Andrew Miksys

Andrew Miksys

Andrew Miksys

Andrew Miksys

Stacy_Kranitz

Stacy Kranitz’s work “As It Was Given To Me” is a complex and evocative body of work made in central Appalachia that places the photographer squarely in the middle of the conversation. These images are a brave attempt to renegotiate a people and a place that have been stereotyped and marginalized, and whose habits, customs, and mannerisms have been codified to better fit outsiders’ perspective of a subculture with whom much of America is not at all familiar.

Kranitz presents a diverse array of portraits and dense landscapes mixed with illustrated depictions of the region’s experience with colonization along with newspaper clippings from a local newspaper. All of these elements contribute towards having a multitude of voices and provides a diversity that has historically been missing from the representation of this area. These perspectives, including the photographer’s, work towards giving central Appalachia and its inhabitants a multi-dimensional quality. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Stacy Kranitz

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Out of curiosity – what is the story behind the last image of the couple on a horse. Its qualities are haunting.
‘I made this image with my friend Marisha Camp. We were collecting romance novels and self help books at thrift stores while traveling together. I am obsessed with Christy, a romance novel by Catherine Marshall, about a young missionary worker from the city who goes into the Smokey Mountains in 1912, to teach the poor mountain children how to read and write. It was also a mini-series on TV. I think so much of what I do is about creating a fantasy world for myself. My perceptions and fantasies rival my desire to provide a realistic portrayal of where I am, especially because the idea of a “realistic portrayal” is a fantasy. The work is about the tension between these two desires.

‘I also see a correlation between the arrogance of the documentary photographer and the arrogance of the missionaries who came to Appalachia in the late 1800’s to established churches and schools and teach the poor mountain families how to read, write and better themselves. My presence in these images is meant to signify the arrogance of my role and question the truth behind representation.’

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Where did you get the found drawings/etchings that weave in and out of the essay? How do they reinforce your project?
‘Many of the illustrations are from a catalog for the exhibition, The Columbus of the Woods, from The Washington University Gallery of Art. It is an excellent collection of images depicting the life of Daniel Boone. I became particularly fascinated with the images of Boone’s daughters being taken hostage by the Natives.

‘I am interested in how this project connects back to Colonial exploration. In many ways, I see the documentary photography road trip (an important way of making work for so many photographers) as part of a lineage that can be traced back to colonial history. In addition to the appropriated images of Boone’s life, I have made a series of map drawings based on a book of Appalachian geography. The project is in the early stages. It is entirely possible that these images will be discarded or further distorted before I finish.’

Stacy-Kranitz

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Did you learn anything about yourself via the making of these images? Was it what you had set out to make?
‘I learned how to love, be loved and how I never want to be loved. I also learned how to look presentable without showering for week long stretches (this was mostly accomplished with a daily whore’s bath in the McDonalds women’s bathroom).

‘I had very little idea of what I was doing when I started. I was interested in regionalism. I wanted to make new photographs that connected to a larger history of complicated representation in Appalachia. Both of these things still drive the project but it has also become this project about fantasy and desire.’

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Stacy_Kranitz

David-Bush

We are all voyeurs this day in age. It is close to impossible not to watch people at the table next to us, check out the strangers sitting across from us on a train, or find a celebrity’s Instagram and scroll away. Hitchcock preceded, in a way, today’s compulsion for viewing others through a filter of some kind, via his film Rear Window. We can all still identify with James Stewart’s wounded photographer staring through a telephoto lens into the apartments across the way, and as movie-goers staring at the screen, we were implicit in the director’s game before we even had a chance to recognize its designs.

New York-based photographer Dave Bush’s photos of people in cars taps into this distant gaze, one that brings us “closer” to the subject but puts us slightly on edge. We know these are strangers and yet we cannot look away from their faces, for their expressions speak to a particularly familiar kind: those that we make when we think no one is watching. These images speak to one of our most basic impulses: watching people. We recently asked the photographer for a few words. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Dave Bush

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David-Bush

Could you explain how these came to be?
“This project grew out of a lot of driving. A few years ago I was regularly doing a long commute. Bored in the car, I would become fascinated with the scene in the car behind me. People singing along to the radio, talking to no one in particular, or just lost in thought. It was almost like watching a silent movie. It took me a while to figure out a way of capturing this consistently, but once I did it was difficult to stop.”

What is the difference between this series, say, and a series of the same people out on the street?
“The difference is that the car is an “in between” place. When they are on the road, people get lost in their own world…and behave differently. The public “persona” they adopt while walking on the street or in any public place, falls away. The absence of this “persona” is what fascinates me.”

David-Bush

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Geoffrey Hiller

I woke up every morning before sunrise and walked the streets of the old city in a sort of hypnotic state. In spite of the risk of interacting with foreigners, the Burmese allowed me to photograph them.—Geoffrey Hiller

Portland-based photographer Geoffrey Hiller has been documenting the world with his poignant photographs for decades and is the founder of the blog Verve Photo. His most extensive work has been in the country Myanmar, the once oppressed land of Burma, where he first visited in 1987 when the country was controlled by an intense military dictatorship. When he returned in 2000, suppression from the government was still in force—academic institutions were being shut down and Hiller recalls meeting university professors-turned-tour guides and would-be students doing manual labor. In 2011, Hiller spent even more time in Burma teaching photojournalism, where he was privy to the most recent monumental changes in the last two years. Aung San Suu Kyi, an unfairly imprisoned political figure, was set free after 15 years and began speaking openly about democracy. While talk of democracy sheds new light, much of the country is still censored and the day to day life of the Burmese has not changed. However, this remains only part of the picture that Hiller captures—the spirit and exuberance of a people rich with culture and story naturally finds its way to the forefront. He also sites the population’s Buddhist beliefs as the core of Burma’s strength, a steadfast combination with the people’s perseverance. Burma in Transition is Hiller’s project spanning the entirety of his time in Burma from the 1980s to the present day. He plans to self-publish the book with the help of his Kickstarter project under the same name and has teamed up with prominent Burmese writer and former politcal prisoner Dr. Ma Thida, and journalist Francis Wade, who will contribute essays exploring the country’s changing face—an undoubtedly exciting yet uncertain time of transition. You can pledge to the project here through October 10th. Taken from Feature Shoot

All images © Geoffrey Hiller

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Geoffrey Hiller

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Geoffrey Hiller

Geoffrey Hiller

Geoffrey Hiller

Geoffrey Hiller

Geoffrey Hiller

Geoffrey Hiller

Geoffrey Hiller