Self-Published

Time Collapsing

Time Collapsing

Christine Miess

To me, photography is a dance between dream and reality. Photographs offer us a way into unfamiliar dream worlds, they give room for sensation. They enable us to tie in with our childhood, the realm of fantasy and magic, the land of unlimited opportunities, the unreal reality. Playfully and easily. These photographs may delude us, but they also enrich us. They give new room to our thoughts and feelings, let us float weightlessly through fairytale worlds. In my artistic work I keep looking for this unique spell, these faraway realities. In the series Time Collapsing various points in time collapse within each single negative and evolve into a new pictorial word – some of them smooth and gentle, others seething and tempestuous. Equal to an orchestra. Only together with composition, musical score and conductor the notes, the individual instruments unite to form a new melody, a new and distinct acoustic pattern. Dream worlds burst into existence, seduce us to stay, make us pause for a moment. They invite us to search for our long-lost yearnings, show us new perspectives to make them come true.

Crossing Europe

Crossing Europe

Poike Stomps

Crossing Europe is a photo project where I travelled 42 European Countries and took pictures in each Capital City: of people crossing the street on busy intersections. Living round the corner from Muntplein in Amsterdam meant I used to pass it several times a day. And it would often cheer me up just to see the life going on in those few square metres. I like watching crowds. I started studying people crossing at the intersection, observing their interactions and the way they moved. Initially I experienced them as act- ing in groups, organically, in orderly or in chaotic fashion. But within the dense movement one or more individuals would soon stand out from the crowd.

Allanngorpoq

Allanngorpoq

Sébastien Tixier

I traveled to Greenland at the beginning of 2013, staying with the local inhabitants of the towns and the northernmost dwellings I encountered. I journeyed from 67° to the 77th parallel north until Qaanaaq, with the aim to highlight the current mutations. From the front-row seats the country undergoes the effects of climate changes, and witnesses deep transformation of the society since the latest decades: the modification of the environment thus operates along with a growing openness to "western" lifestyles and consumption habits. The questions surrounding Greenland extend far beyond its geographical frontiers. In these starkly different landscapes, supermarkets and cell phones are slowly making their way into Inuit culture, and traditional outfits made from animal hides are now only used in the North for sled journeys. These radical and rapid changes raise questions about society and identity, and divide public opinion in Greenland, as illustrated by the last elections. Its people are torn between a desire to catch up with the modern world, and a feeling that they are an ice population which, like the ice itself, is slowly melting away. Allanngorpoq can be translated into "being transformed" from Greenlandic.

Almost Bari

Almost Bari

Mara Dani

Almost Bari is an exploration of my hometown in the south of Italy, in a documentary style. I tried to look at familiar places with new eyes, as if gazing an unknown place and discovering interesting aspects which escape the superficial eye of the hurried city dweller for whom those sights and places have become stereotyped.

Tokyo Radiant

Tokyo Radiant

Philipp Zechner

Tokyo Radiant” portrays the Japanese capital following the Great Tohoku Earthquake that struck the country in 2011. In color infrared pictures, it captures the uncertainty and eerieness that struck the country following the triple catastrophe of earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear meltdown at Fukushima Daichi power plant.

It Takes My Mind Off Things

It Takes My Mind Off Things

Robin Butter

'It takes my mind off things' is a wonderment at and interrogation of the shooting culture in the Netherlands. In this provocative piece, Robin Butter poses the question; has the Netherlands always been a 'secretive' gun-nation? Secretive in that it has a long-standing fixation with firearms that is systematically hidden and denied. In her uncloacking issue, Butter's point of departure the country strict control over nature; The Netherlands is a nation that has litarally reclaimed land from the sea to build it's country. This trend of man bending nature to his will continues in the Dutch approach of cultivating flora and fauna, a practice that necessitates hunting. Butter goes further in examining the firearms fixation in all of it's many manifestations: from the political-economic sphere of transnational interactions - the Netherlands place in the top five for creating firearm components in Europe - to the socio-cultural realm of the individual - the joy many Dutchman find when firing at shooting ranges, a tradition that has excisted for over a hundred years. Think of the famous Dutch painting of the 'Nightwatch' by van Rembrandt van Rijn probably one of the oldest paintings of a shooters range, in that time called a marksmanguild portrayed.

Only The Sky Remains Untouched

Only The Sky Remains Untouched

Claire Felicie

Soldiers who suffer from Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are emotionally wounded and carry these wounds with them all their lives. The past 2 years I’ve been working on my new project ‘Only The Sky Remains Untouched’: portraits of 15 war veterans who suffer from PTSD. All photos were taken at ‘De Hembrug‘ in Zaandam, the Netherlands: a former weapons factory. In the heart of this terrain lies the so-called ‘Shock Forest’ where explosives were tested. Sybren Kuiper, who also made my book ‘Here are the young men’, has made a beautiful design for this new publication. It isn’t the book’s purpose to victimize these veterans. The goal is to show how severe this mental state can be, and how necessary it is to get it treated in an early stage. I use photography, interviews and imagination to represent these mental wounds: this inner war still going on.

15m2 of Freedom

15m2 of Freedom

Angeniet Berkers

On just a few squatted terrains in The Netherlands there are people who choose to live trucks, vans or trailers. It is fascinating to see how these people ‘obtain’ their freedom because it isn’t always that easy to live this way. There isn’t so much space, the water isn’t always running, a toilet (compost toilet) usually is a little further down the road, you have to chop wood to heat the stove before having a little warmth etc… The daily life has a real different pace then that of us hasty city people. Most of the terrains have evolved into cultural breeding ground where festivals and concerts take place every year. In the Netherlands it’s a subculture that has become more and restricted because of the repressive policy of the government and project developers. It has become expected of everyone to live in a ‘normal’ way – in a house. It takes a lot of courage and persistence to choose an alternative way to live. The left activist scene in the Netherlands isn’t what it used to be. How different is this in Germany, where squatting never has been legal in the first place. Every big city has a couple of terrains where people live in busses or trailers. ‘15m2 of freedom’ is about the search for freedom and the constant paradox that follows with it. Will you get a sense of freedom when you reduce your possessions and throw away all excess baggage? Isn’t it just a ‘state of mind’ that allows a person not to care so much about what one ‘should’ do, or is ‘supposed’ to do. And what if the terrain you are living on is maybe going to be evicted?

I arrived at  Cape Disappointment

I arrived at Cape Disappointment

Vincent Buller

Prompted by a feeling of disappointment I travelled to Cape Disappointment (USA) for introspection. This cape was also the endpoint of the Lewis & Clark expedition early 19th century, and the similarities and differences between our travels gave rise to thought about measures of success, and how expectations, success and disappointment are related. All this in an environment with breathtaking nature, and towns that were obviously hit by the economic downturn.

Carpoolers

Carpoolers

Alejandro Cartagena

With the Carpoolers book Alejandro Cartagena asks us to consider the political and economic structures that move energy, labor, and wealth throughout Mexico. Conceptualized as one layer of a lifelong project, Cartagena's carpoolers series makes visible one more space between major points in the urban power grid.

Rivers of Power / Ríos de Poder

Rivers of Power / Ríos de Poder

Alejandro Cartagena

This is the story of the tragic relationship between two bodies: a critical narration of the long and failed relationship between a society and a river. Although today it is a long and winding sarcophagus, in the past the city depended on the abundance of its stream. Centuries later, with Monterrey transformed into a regional industrial enclave, the Santa Catarina River served as border between social classes: the employers on the north side, the laborers on the south. The first hydraulic engineering works were carried out at the beginning of the 20th century. In 1909, wells and dikes were routed through pipes. That same year the river overflowed and caused the catastrophic flood that took over 5 thousand lives. Entire families disappeared. Since then, the river has been serving a sentence, receiving the treatment of a beast, with its future in peril. This fear, built based on ignorant speeches, created in American universities and reproduced with strict fidelity in Monterrey, was capitalized by governments eager to make their power known. The domination of the uncontrollable body of nature is a necessary rite of passage in any industrial society. In this way, the political apparatus decided to display its strength against the Santa Catarina River, whose clamor still resonated in the city’s memory, with the inauguration of the works that channeled it to protect Monterrey and utilize the water as raw material. The prolonged engineering works were nothing short of a marvel of modernity. After the ribbon was cut, in the mid-20th century, a subconscious link was broken and a period of aridity began, not only in the landscape, but also in morality. It broke the scale. The river was a line drawn on a technical plan. In 1988, Hurricane Gilberto hit the city of Monterrey. The city once again trembled before the torrential power of its currents, which tore up houses, markets, Ferris wheels and merry-go-rounds. Leaving over 300 people dead, the destruction served as a reminder to the following generation: this is not a dead river, but a captive one. The tragedy had no end point until the year 2004 when another large-scale work of civil engineering was inaugurated, known as the Rompepicos dam or grout curtain, whose purpose was to curb the water level from its source, in the Sierra Madre Oriental. But in the year 2010 it again broke through with all its might: stoked by Hurricane Alex, the body of water managed to burst the pipes to escape, fugitive and enraged, bellowing across the entire length of the city. Those of us who heard it cannot forget that enthralling and harrowing cry of freedom. Its spirit took shape, returned to it. Faced with human pain, we hid our joy as we acknowledged its resurrection. Standing on the devastated riverbanks, we contemplated the water, enraptured by a sensual revolution. The frenzied cry of fertility of a body faced with its captor. Then we watched the same entrepreneurs build business opportunities out of the destruction. We stood witness to the engineering works that managed to bury the river once again. We were not able to stop them, or resist, because the speed of the expressways rushing along the riverside hampers any considered thought. They plundered the stone and sand of its sepulcher to use as construction materials. Today we stand thirsty as the withered body of the river is scattered throughout the city.

Headshots

Headshots

Alejandro Cartagena

Headshots of the President.

Before the War

Before the War

Alejandro Cartagena

In 2008 the war against the drug cartels erupted in Mexico. The state of nuevo leon in northeastern Mexico became an increasingly violent place. This book is a compilation of images and texts that obsessively revisit places where the war was eventually fought and look for signs of an evil that lay underneath but was invisible to everyone´s eyes at the moment these images were shot.

Espacios Habitables

Espacios Habitables

Alejandro Cartagena

Al revisar la historia general de las representaciones humanas, reconocemos que el tema de lo cotidiano y su correlación con la identidad, ha sido tratado en múltiples maneras y que forma parte del discurso artístico contemporáneo. El trabajo de Alejandro Cartagena presentado en esta exposición, se basa en tales argumentos. Los objetos pueden generar un lenguaje común a todos los seres humanos; así mismo, al usarlos son personalizados. Lo que hace que algo penetre en nuestra intimidad es sin duda, el valor que surge de la relación con tal elemento. Los espacios se leen y se dibujan con los objetos que los componen. Otra vez la mirada los reconfigura y se genera la referencia de espacio y tiempo cuántas veces regresemos a esos lugares o cuantas veces se recreen en la memoria. Al observar la serie de interiores, casi inconscientemente nos transportamos no solo a los lugares representados sino también a los sentimientos evocados. Alejandro Cartagena observa cuidadosamente cada rincón, reconociendo el lenguaje de ese entorno del cual procede. Lugares domésticos, cotidianos, privados; donde se desarrolla una vida en relación con otros. Donde se determina en mucho el mundo personal y su proyección hacia lo social. Lugares de los que se ha dicho, “dan al hombre razones o ilusiones de estabilidad”. Las fotografías presentadas son el resultado de la relación entre su autor y el escenario que tiene ante sus ojos. El cuidado en el manejo de la luz, los colores, los encuadres seleccionados, el ritmo y el punto de vista bajo, -como el de un niño que observa curioso la transformación constante de su intimidad- son los indicios de la exploración que plantea Alejandro y de la cual nos hace parte. Es una manera de fijar sus traslados, adaptaciones y reajustes de un hogar continuamente recuperado donde se evidencian las distancias ineludibles y los dilemas sin respuestas. Con esta valoración y documentación del espacio doméstico, Cartagena hace sentir como verdadera una vida que a veces pareciera ilusoria. Lanza a los espectadores el cuestionamiento de aspectos universalmente aceptados sobre el núcleo al cual pertenecemos y nuestra también necesidad de recrear una memoria personal y colectiva. – Marcela Torres

Por lo que Peleamos/ What we fight for

Por lo que Peleamos/ What we fight for

Alejandro Cartagena

The importance of space can be understood through the, somewhat metaphysical, meaning of dwelling. Dwelling and building became two very different verbs even when, as Heidegger explains, they were conceived as one same concept in the Old German language. As if the act of dwelling could not be separated from the act of building. Yet, dwelling has also been closely linked to the being. Ich bin (which in German means I am) was conceived in language as a synonym of I dwell, du bist as a synonym of you dwell. Heidegger’s finding was greater, though. Bauen -to dwell- also meant to take care of something; thus, taking care and protecting were related to building. In the Old German language, the concept of tilling (taking care of) the soil was not so different from the one of constructing or working the land. We can then say that once upon a time there was a human being who took care of the land by inhabiting it. Such link, which can also be traced back to certain cosmogonies of the pre-Hispanic world, does not seem to make sense anymore in our modern world. Nowadays, building is a mere economic activity and dwelling is a form of consumption. Unlike ancient inhabitants who expressed their existence through the way they dwelled, nowadays most of us do not seem to have a say on the design, planning and building of the spaces, both private and public, in which we dwell. Nowadays, building of spaces involves of a series of mediators, which sets the inhabitant or user apart from their right to decide how they want to build their spaces. That is why transforming, building or defending a space based on the drive to dwell –as in being and taking care of- will always be a political cause with philosophical implications. Space is the new arena for political debate. Within space, disagreement takes shape and ideologies, authoritarianism and democracy come to life. Its importance does not lie on a post-colonial kind of control over land, but on the fact that it creates, or rather recreates, certain links. As a result, rather than referring to a location that we can pinpoint with coordinates or to the concept of location, space, as Henri Lefebvre puts it, is a three-dimensional entity, it is concrete matter –here- and it is an idea – what here means-, but, above all, it is a social practice – what I do here. Thus, when talking about conflicts over a certain space there is much more than a mere fight over a piece of land. Deep down, disagreements are based on the type of link that we want to create with a certain place. In that sense, by defending a certain space we are exercising our right to create realities. Space is one of the most conclusive political representations. Making a faithful representation of the links that originated it to respond to certain interests should not be a problem, as long as said representation does not belong only to a few. In this way, hegemonic spaces, which do not mean sole or indisputable ones, exercise a ruling power on our daily lives. This can be seen not only in the bureaucratic systems that have to authorize practically every intervention, but also in more volatile concepts, like surplus value or real estate speculation, which turn space into merchandise. Most of the conflicts over space have to do with fighting over a certain right to generate incomes, or simply put, the right to make business, in opposition to the right of well dwelling. This tension has been growing during the last 40 years, especially in those countries or cities where the government bases its policies on accumulation by dispossession, which, in the words of the geographer David Harvey, “has always been a profoundly geographical affair”. Accumulation by dispossession, as the geographer himself explains, is a verifiable practice when it comes to the privatization of public spaces, common resources –such as natural resources- or knowledge, community property, among others. He even labels neoliberalism as a “creative destruction” in the sense that its predominance is based on its ability to destroy, with the support of the government, in order to create new businesses. Deep down, it is the same logic used in war economy, but instead it uses our cities as battlefields. Even when the image of war suggests so, we should not imagine a conflict between two clearly identifiable powers. Fights over space are much wider, and even more unconscious, than the image of two parties facing each other and this is because the favorable decision for one of them will not depend on whether they have the best argument, or on their compliance with the law, but on how coherent their proposal is with the established relationships of production and power. A whole way of being and conceiving the dwelling is being faced. That is why when we fight over a certain space, we fight for the right of imagining it as a possibility, which becomes much more difficult in authoritarian situations. All this can be verified with specific cases, from the resistance of a small group of farmers against the creation of a gold mine in Rosa Montana, Rumania to a group of youngsters anywhere in the world who defend their football field against the “public interest” of turning it into a parking lot. The number of fights being led everywhere in the world, no matter the form they take, is bringing light to a blind spot of liberal democracy since space is one of the most powerful of political representations and, nevertheless, there are no mechanisms that allow taking collective decisions on them. Henri Lefebvre said “’Change life! Change society!’ These precepts mean nothing without the production of an appropriate space.” On this point, spaces, whether it is the rainforest in Nicaragua, Downtown Tijuana or the sea in Cadiz, Spain, captured by the lens of Alejandro Cartagena are nothing more than common places, stripped off a daily moment in which nothing was going on. WHAT WE FIGHT FOR shows precisely what is usually hidden in the fight for space and what generates an inescapable misunderstanding: space does not say anything about itself; it is us who create it. There are no spaces with one single use, there are no assigned spaces and there is no such thing as a space evolution line. In this sense, the emergence of disagreement should not be an exception, but something hoped for. As Chantal Mouffe argues, disagreement should be seen as a problem that needs to be solved, much less suppressed, but as an expression of life itself within society. That is why unprecedented conflict breaks out, like the opposition to the Via Express in Guadalajara or the demonstrations that cried: We want a stadium, but we want it somewhere else! in Monterrey, reflect more than a democratic moment: a deeply authoritarian society that denies the existence of disagreement until the latter comes to life and is expressed in a certain space. Maybe the global movement that best captured this approach was Occupy Wall Street. Gaining representation through the electoral and institutional ways had no success and people were desperate because they existed but they were not acknowledged, let alone be seen, so they decided they were going to make others see their indignation by occupying spaces and modifying the relationships that usually took place in the financial area of New York. It is not that the demands taking place at that moment had not been expressed before, but by occupying the streets such demands were made visible in a way in which they could not be ignored any longer. By breaking into one of the most guarded and neatest places in the world, people were also breaking into the monopolistic mantra of everything is fine. All in all, even when it was a fleeting intervention –the occupation finished over the night- after a repression and massive detention that took place in the Brooklyn bridge, the movement managed to provide with consistency and political sense the fight against the oppression and abuse of a minority that could not manage to be seen because of its abstract nature. We have to ask ourselves whether this rupture would have had results if presented through legal, moral or political arguments because in such cases ideas do not land on spaces, they continue to be utopias, i.e. without the topos, without a place or, as Boaventura de Sousa Santos puts it, not yet in a place. Thus, as reflected in the conflicts over space captured by Cartagena, space deals with the identity matters that we mentioned at the beginning, the link between I dwell and I am, that justify the resistance or the promotion of a determined space. We could then say that space is a means for being and, at the same time, it is a mediator between the being and its reality. Its political relevance is undeniable: I am this person here. As a result, it is hard to imagine that raising awareness about the importance of the democratization of space is possible without going through the identity circuits. I am fine if my space is fine. Oftentimes, this obvious statement is only noticed once there have already been traumatic experiences that reveal to us the importance of space. Chico Mendes was a leader of the rubber tappers in the Amazonian region of Brazil. His parents migrated from the city to the rainforest looking for a job. He learned the trade of the serengueiros since he was a kid. By making a daily angular incision in the tree’s bark, the tree secretes a milky substance that has been commercialized since the XIX century to manufacture different necessities, such as latex. During the military dictatorship, from 1964 to 1985, the State implemented an Agrarian Reform that made it possible for corporations to buy great amounts of rainforest lands for cattle raising or the exploitation of rubber. The new landowners cut trees down and used them up, eliminating the ancient socio-environmental system. Chico Mendes led a movement during the 70’s and the 80’s that did not accept the cutting down of trees or their exfoliation simply because the rainforest was their home and their subsistence depended on the care given to those rubber trees. This absolutely revolutionary approach raised awareness on the right that we have to well dwelling without having to stop being productive. Chico Mendes, who was murdered in 1988 precisely by the owner of a ranch, brought back an ancient wisdom and integrated it to the new dweller’s identity, i.e. taking care and tilling the environment so that nothing threatens survival. Nowadays, the challenge is to reintegrate this approach in the context of extreme predation, like in metropolitan areas, where the ideal of building involves market logic and the cityscape is nothing but a monochromatic mass of concrete and steel. How can we conceive and dwell in a space that does not even exist? Boaventura de Sousa Santos brings up the need to see the counter-hegemonic resistance as a growing fight that usually begins with a process that simply destabilizes the everything-is-fine perception, as I like to put it. Turning human suffering into a political debate, making it visible, discussing it, dealing with it as a painful situation that outrages us because it can be changed and that affects our living experience, is a destabilizing image with a huge transforming potential, says Santos. It is precisely Lefebvre who points out the importance of the dweller’s experience since it is the most sensitive part in the creation of spaces and, paradoxically, the most invisible one to the eyes of the planners and the people in charge of executing the work. We would then have to turn around the order of importance in the process of space creation, putting dwelling in the first place and then building. Of course, it would be desirable to have the support of the State in this endeavor since it would act as a regulator that democratizes the decision-making. Nevertheless, most of the times, and with almost no exception, we, inhabitants, are left alone. This loneliness opens the door to a critical analysis of spaces, which is essential to put an end to, quoting Durkheim, “an illusion which leads us to believe we have ourselves produced what has been imposed upon us externally.” However, this rupture has to be productive for it to surface. Its fruitfulness is not linked to the excitement it causes but to how deep it is rooted. These productive ruptures as Marc Angenot calls them “are being born, but they always come as chain effects and probably never as something characteristic of a single moment or individual. They arrive untimely, once an ambiguous detour is reinterpreted and then transformed, thus establishing a new space for credibility.” That is what we fight for.

Tomorrow of Yesterday

Tomorrow of Yesterday

Stefanie Moshammer

In November 2016 and March 2017 Stefanie Moshammer visited the Haitian island Île-à-Vache. What looks like the Caribbean dream straight from a stock photograph, with waving palms and white beaches, is also a place of unfulfilled promises. Besides the beautiful surroundings of the deep blue ocean, bright green nature and colourful streets, cities and sea shores are also coloured by litter and waste, from plastic bottles and bags to polystyrene wrappings. In her series Tomorrow of Yesterday, Stefanie Moshammer researches notions of paradise, between Western ideals, yesterday’s promises, and the everyday lives of the people who live there.

Bunga Bunga

Bunga Bunga

Lorenzo Tricoli

The focus of this book is not the beauty of the contemporary woman, but how kitsch and the grotesque, have become esthetic codes not only acceptable by the masses, but a goal, to aspire to, thanks to a culture born out of Television. Infact, it is from the the working class where they come from, these socalled graceless ‘beauties’ that, inevitably, looking for shortcuts to success, deliberately mutilate their own genuine beauty, to put it at service of cameras and television, and above all to Power. No judgement is expressed in the book.

Deutschland

Deutschland

Gerry Johansson

Deutschland is a visual encyclopedia, a catalogue of the rural and urban landscapes of Germany arranged in alphabetical order. In carefully structured greyscale images, Johansson sensitively explores German history through its landscape, picking out the industrial scenes, industrial buildings, residential roads and shop fronts. His quiet photographs are carefully constructed, grid patterns recur constantly and each frame is packed with information.

Sverige

Sverige

Gerry Johansson

Photographs from Sweden between 1998 and 2005.

Kvidinge

Kvidinge

Gerry Johansson

Photographs from Kvidinge between 2004 and 2007.

Fotoscopia

Fotoscopia

Alessandra Calò

This work celebrates the mystery of life and the moving wish of protecting it. The research of the materials was conducted in the departments of a city hospital, through interviews with doctors, nurses, technicians and janitors. In the images you can find archive topographies, exegetical sketches of doctors, mammographic screenings and the goldfishes who swimming into the aquarious of the waiting room. The graphical project simulates the appearance of archive binders and holds different pages regarding shape and material. The theme of medicine is shown through the whole book, full of curious inserts, stamps and handmade interventions by the authors. Even the assembly is completely handmade.

America

America

Gerry Johansson

Images of 112 American towns, from Altheim/Kansas to Zell/South Dakota.

Spatial Practices

Spatial Practices

The Theatre of our Relationships

Nita Vera

Relationships around me are loose. Everything appears temporal and we are afraid to commit ourselves to each other. The less investments we put in others, the easier it is to stay independent. I researched the disconnection we have with each other by staging imaginary scenes in a strictly framed space visualizing the lines between hiding and showing, real and false, theatre and life. I feel the world around me becomes like a big construction of a theatre play, a stage where we act as mere players in a momentary stage of our lives. Relationships follow similar plot twists as in a theatre play. The sociologist Zygmunt Bauman suggests: “We take it, we use it and then we throw it away, we change it for a new one. We consume it. We consume love.”

Gold Coast

Gold Coast

Ying Ang

Simultaneously touted as the crime capital as well as the tourist capital of Australia, the South Coast was a straggly and dangerous strip of coastline that was renamed to Gold Coast by real estate developers in an effort to seduce investors, retirees and holiday-makers. In a huge push to attract potential home owners through the 60's and 70's, a vast network of canals was constructed to provide for waterfront homes, complete with an unexpectedly large population of bull sharks that lurk in the shallow depths. This relationship between selling the idea of the perfect home and pervading danger is evident in the local news, that fluctuates between million dollar listings and tales of sleaze and murder. State Government corruption and unethical business practices through the 80's and property scams in the 90's cemented the Gold Coast as the perfect place for Australians of ill repute to come and reinvent themselves. I lived in this city for 17 years and in that time, my friends and I were witnesses to a range of crimes from rape to stabbings in a ubiquitous background of racism, illegal drugs, extortion, boats and mansions. The insidious nature of this city was not in the rocketing crime rate that graces the newspaper on a daily basis, but in the aesthetics of an upwardly mobile and predominantly Anglo-Saxon community in combination with sunshine and kilometers of sandy beach, leading to a blanket denial of its residents to confront the reality of the environment they live in. In the same way that we have icons of danger (broken windows, public housing), we also have icons of safety (swimming pools, perfect lawns). The Gold Coast exemplifies how powerful these icons can be in insulating our opinions from our knowledge of what we know to be true. It manifests a mentality that confirms one's security based on superficial checkpoints that have been identified by contemporary consumerist values. Everything will be ok so long as it looks ok, no matter the proof of things rotting from the inside. This series of images was made on the premise that environments of safety and danger cannot be delineated by weather and architecture. "A sunny place for shady people", the Gold Coast became known as a perfect strip of golden beach where execution style shootings at the local mall were whispered behind pastel colored walls and porcelain veneers. This is a tale about a place that laid the flawed foundation of its character upon a mirage of tranquility. It is about the price of sun drenched afternoons hashtagged "grateful". It is about our perceptions of safety and danger within the architecture of our built environment. It is about real estate and the beautiful lie bought and sold here every day.

“It’s beautiful when it flies”

“It’s beautiful when it flies”

Rinske Former

As a child I dreamt of flying. Sometimes I actually felt the wind against my cheeks. Sadly, somehow aging goes hand in hand with the inability to believe in something so close to carelessness. “It’s beautiful when it flies” is my attempt to refind this childlike state of openness. It’s an escape from reality and at the same time a revival of hope. I looked into the possibility of flying like a bird. During my search I met three men who had built ornithopters. These are man powered machines based on the flying mechanism of birds. These men have convinced me that dreams and desires may survive in the real world too. Everything is about hope, because when you reach for the unreachable, even the unrealized possibility gives you wings.

Discordia

Discordia

Moises Saman

iscordia, a new book by Magnum photographer Moises Saman, represents a personal memory of the nearly four years he spent living and working as a photojournalist in the Middle East during the Arab Spring from 2011 to 2014. Discordia is the winner of the 2016 Anamorphosis Prize. “These photographs were taken while I was working as a photojournalist in multiple countries in the region for publications such as The New York Times, The New Yorker, and TIME magazine. Over these years, the many revolutions overlapped and in my mind became one blur, one story in itself. In order to tell this story the way I experienced it, I felt the need to transcend a linear journalistic language, and instead create a new narrative that combined the multitude of voices, emotions, and the lasting uncertainty I felt.” In Discordia, Saman presents the unfolding of long and complex photographic sequences, absent of captions, an unexpected and less straightforward journalistic representation of the Arab Spring. The book includes a series of photo collages, created by the Dutch-Iranian artist Daria Birang from Saman’s photographs, grainy cut-outs exploring the repetition of human gestures and theatrics that Saman saw time after time during the events. ‘The editing process for an assignment is very different than that when I’m editing a longer narrative. A book in particular needs rhythm, and, as such, I felt that Discordia had to incorporate the quieter pictures that offer more context, the photographs that sometimes are overlooked in the editorial process because they capture moments just before or after the main event. With the collages, the aim was to literally cut out the subject from the context of the photograph and focus on the theatrical body language and expression of the protesters during clashes, rather than opt for the best single image that captured the action.’ Discordia utilises various artistic approaches to photographic material; double-page spreads, isolated images, provocative two-image comparisons, juxtapositions and the collages. Presented as such, the book builds a visual representation of Saman’s up-close experience with the events taking place around him. The photographs are often ambiguous, depicting fleeting moments on the periphery of the more dramatic events that Saman photographed for editorial publications. Discordia instead presents people gathered in conference, protests on the street, objects, and the continuation of day-to-day life amidst violence and uncertainty. The result is a personal comment on the complex nature of this period, and the ever-blurring line between victim and perpetrator. The book closes with a series of short essays written by the photographer, vignette-like descriptions of transient characters, encounters, and situations he experienced during the years he spent living and working in the Middle East.

Words in Sight

Words in Sight

Gillian Hyland

‘Words in Sight’ is a stunning selection of photographs and poems by the artist, spanning ten years of work. The narrative photography series has been inspired by poetry written by the artist over the past decade and will showcase for the first time the pictures with the words together, giving a deeper perspective and insight into the series.

Do You Believe in Magic?

Do You Believe in Magic?

Jude Star

'Do You Believe in Magic?' is an intimate visual exploration of the psychedelic festival culture of British Columbia, Canada. Toronto based photographer Jude Star immerses himself in this unique subversive culture where weirdness and self-exploration is intentionally cultivated and celebrated through consciousness altering substances and activities. All photos are taken on 35mm colour negative film.

Distant Memories

Distant Memories

Richard Chow

My family moved from Hong Kong to Los Angeles when I was sixteen. Those first years were difficult for an immigrant teenager due to language and culture shifts, and at times were overwhelming as I tried to find my place in this new world. From discovery, insight and serendipity, the American culture was slowly absorbed. More specific to So Cal, the beach architype is ingrained in the lifestyle, and I quickly learned that it was a place that provided comfort and inspiration to me as a young man. I now frequent the beach regularly as a place for relaxation and observation. With this series, Distant Memories, I capture the childhood that I could have experienced, those weekend forays to museums, outings to the waters edge, with family, friends and a picnic basket filled with the ingredients for a perfect day. Like finding shells on the shore, I am collecting visual memories. And while they might not be my memories, they allow me to imagine a childhood in a place I now call home.

Dream for Sale

Dream for Sale

Martin Lamberty

The largest lake of California has a person thinking of lush green landscapes with a rich flora and fauna. It was the desertlike surroundings that struck me most when I first arrived. Ruinous houses everywhere, old piers indicate former water levels, stranded boats now only fit for scrap, inhabitants that seem a lot less euphoric than the postcards from the 1950’s promised. Wandering around in this wasteland words like desolate and barren come to mind. Why do people hold on to this place? For what reason do they stay and fight against nature although there is no recovery in sight? The American Dream is a theoretical construct which serves as the base upon which an entire system of beliefs was built. Independence, freedom, the possibility to cultivate land and the conviction to be able to achieve everything by hard work are at the core. These agents have beckoned people to the new world for centuries.At times the American Dream can be adventurous, even hazardous. It may appear to be a path gone astray, even to be a lost cause. Considering the frontier spirit one might critically bring into question at which point holding on to a chosen path turns into an aberration. Does a secluded life in a desert qualify as a dream come true? Dream for Sale is a story about people living in a lost place. Salton Sea in the midst of a desert is a saltlake surrounded by a hostile environment. Originally, the Salton Sink was a part of the Gulf of California and the Pacific Ocean. It was separated by sediments of the Colorado River. Thus, Lake Cahuilla was created. Due to the climate it dried up hundred of years ago.In 1905 a dam of the Colorado River broke. For two years the river changed its course and emptied itself into the deepest point of the Salton Sink. The largest lake of California, Salton Sea, was born. During the 1950’s major touristic development plans existed for Salton Sea. Investors became interested, infrastructure was built, even celebrities took part in the promotions. Plenty of lots were sold and the area experienced a great boom.Many people from the surrounding cities like Los Angeles or San Diego spent their free time at the lake. Boatraces became popular and a sport fishing scene was established due to best weather conditions and a broad variety of marine life. There were numerous motels and even a golf court. An ever growing number of celebrities from Hollywood attracted more and more people. The idyll did not last long, however. In the mid 1970’s two tropical storms swept across the area. Since Salton Sea does not have an outlet it bursted its banks considerably. Many buildings close to the shore were flooded and essentially destroyed. The initial elation to create a French Rivera in California was ruined. As a result of the devastation long term ecological problems grew as well. In the following years the waterquality consistently declined and the salinity rose. As a result several mass die-offs of fish and birds occurred in the 1990’s. Nowadays only one species -The Nile Tilapia- is able to survive in the water conditions. Furthermore, the lake had over decades evolved into a wildlife refuge for migrating birds on the Pacific Flyway, which are now also endangered.The lake’s water supply is fed by three rivers, which first provide freshwater for the surrounding fields, take the agricultural runoffand finally find their way into the lake. Over the years large amounts of heavy metals contained in agricultural fertilizers have thus accumulated on the bottom of the lake. These heavy metals are not too dangerous while underwater, but due to a slow drying up of the lake, more and more of the lake’s bed is exposed. The wind picks up the soil, the heavy metals are airborne and consequently the air quality is lowered. The area’s child-asthma-ratio is up to three times higher compared to the rest of the United States. Salton Sea dries up because of the hot climate. Additionally the lake suffers from a reduction in the water supply system. In the near future the drying-up is expected to hasten its pace due to a new regional water contract. The agricultural runoff is supposed to be transferred to San Diego from 2018 on. The main water supply of the lake will be cut off and the fight over water will heat up in this highly indebted State during the biggest drought ever. Today a lot of houses in the area are vacant - a place where plans for the future and their decline are omnipresent. A vast infrastructure had been constructed, the horizon is spiked with power lines, but only isolated homes were built. A dream of an eternal vacation turned into a collecting pond for dropouts and outcasts of America`s prosperous society. The motivation of these people are manifold, some of them stay there because of the sheer lack of alternatives, some of them because they belief in a dream deferred. But at their core the qualities which are inherent in the American Dream are what drive these people: persistence, independence and freedom. Surrounded by a hostile environment these people exist in a place doomed by the workings of nature, constantly struggling to survive by the faith in their own will. A situation which ironically mirrors the situation of the first settlers. In contrast, the inhabitants of Salton Sea do not fight the uncultivated wilderness but the leftovers of civilization itself.

East

East

Benedetta Ristori

East is a 'on the road' journey through the countries of the Balkan Peninsula. The project aims to explore the relationship between the past and present of these nations and show how the past may influence or interact with the world today. A particular focus is given to countries which until 2006 were part of Yugoslavia and is immortalized what remains of his socialist period, a period that has left in these lands significant traces of relations with the Soviet Union. In the project also have been immortalized some ‘Spomenik’. The "Spomenik" memorials are reminders of bloody battles and thousands of deaths in the concentration camps. They were part of the celebratory program of the Yugoslav government, in an attempt to show the strength of the Socialist Republic through a strong visual impact. It shows how ideology has interpreted the idea of commemorating the fallen, in a totally opposite way to the memorials we are used to; the Spomenik are totems that through their abstract figurative language, recalling shapes and organic shapes like petals, crystals or flowers totally immersed in the nature.They are a great testimony of a macabre chapter of world history that is not always remembered with due importance; at the same time are unique sculptures and architectural works of their kind. Architecture, landscapes and portraits are captured in different seasons, from summer to winter, to show all the facets of this lands and deepen their knowledge and their aesthetics. The nostalgic key that acts as a conductor thread of the story is also maintained through the exclusive use of analog cameras. The nations that you see portrayed until today are Bulgaria, Bosnia and Herzegovina,Croatia, Serbia, Montenegro, Albania, Romania, Moldova and Transnistria.

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