A selection from yesterdays races. Sun and snow coming down. It started off not good, as my camera didn´t expose more then one image at the time. After some time of intense problem solving I managed to get it working as I would like it to. There are so many things to choose when you are setting up an advanced digital camera. It ended up OK after all, and once again I learned about preparations. Especially with a new camera. You are never too old to learn…
Once a photographer, always a photographer. You don´t have a career for 50 years if you´re not a photographer by heart. A great title for the book. 😊 Pelle
He was best known for his Pulitzer prize-winning photo, Saigon Execution, but Eddie Adams won over 500 awards for his work, throughout a 50-year career. Starting as a photographer in the marines, he covered war zones, refugees, riots and celebrities. Eddie Adams: Bigger Than The Frame is published by the University of Texas Press.
When I go to a horse race to photograph I make no promises. Not to me or anyone else. No promises that my images should be sharp, show what horse or jockey, or anything. I go there with total freedom for creating and I don´t listen to nobody. Surprise me! That is all that I say to myself. Because of that I don´t really know until afterwards in the studio what I brought back. Is it useful and did I surprise myself. Do I like it? At the bottom I have included two of my friends and colleagues. Wolfram and Elina.See you on Sunday again.
Only two images are cropped…
This is a small selection from yesterdays 979 exposures. The one at the top is my favorite.
Magnum has always been, and is always great photography by great photographers. Oh, there are SO MANY exhibitions I would like to see…
I found this in The Guardian.
As part of its 70th anniversary program, Magnum Photos is holding an exhibition of photographs taken in New York City during the early years of the agency, from 1947 to 1960. The show includes classic images from their archive, as well as pictures from their New York office. Early Magnum In & On New York is at the National Arts Club Grand Gallery until 29 April, can be viewed online and prints purchased through Magnum.
Image at the top:
Photographers Elliott Erwitt and Henri Cartier-Bresson, 1959
Photograph: Marc Riboud/Magnum Photos
Wes Bell’s series “Snag,” inspired by the death of his mother, takes a beautiful and simple idea and infuses an ordinary scene with great emotional power. There is beauty, loss and poetry in every frame. After 20 years in New York working as an international fashion photographer, Bell returned to his birthplace and to fine-art photography in Alberta, Canada.
In describing this work, Bell said: “Three years ago, I was leaving for the airport after saying goodbye to my mother. She was dying of cancer. On the long drive across the Alberta prairie, I found myself distracted by flapping remnants of plastic bags, caught in barbed-wire fences that lined the ditches. Whipped violently by the wind, they were left shredded and lacerated, but trapped nonetheless in the no man’s land of boundary fences, neither here nor there. Thinking about mortality, pain and death in the context of my mother’s terminal illness, these forgotten shreds of plastic took on a deeper significance — Snag.”
Loss and remembrance are universal, and Bell makes feeling those emotions accessible and visible.
Interesting read from NY Times written by Teju Cole. Teju Cole is the magazine’s photography critic and the author, most recently, of the essay collection “Known and Strange Things.” Read more in the full article!
Images make us think of other images. Photographs remind us of other photographs, and perhaps only the earliest photographs had a chance to evade this fate. But soon after the invention of photography, the world was full of photographs, and newly made photographs could not avoid semantic contamination. Each photograph came to seem like a quotation from the great archive of photographs. Even the earliest photographs are themselves now burdened by this reality, because when we look at them, we do so in the knowledge of everything that came after. All images, regardless of the date of their creation, exist simultaneously and are pressed into service to help us make sense of other images. This suggests a possible approach to photography criticism: a river of interconnected images wordlessly but fluently commenting on one another.
A photograph can’t help taming what it shows. We are accustomed to speaking about photographs as though they were identical to their subject matter. But photographs are also pictures — organized forms on a two-dimensional surface — and they are part of the history of pictures. A picture of something terrible will always be caught between two worlds: the world of “something terrible,” which might shock us or move us to a moral response, and the world of “a picture,” which generates an aesthetic response. The dazzle of art and the bitterness of life are yoked to each other. There is no escape.
Photographer Joseph Philipson saw more than just cuts in the sand on the shores of Long Beach, Calif. He saw the “code that constructs our visual reality,” or the mathematical phenomenon of fractals, mathematical sets that show a repeating pattern at every scale. In nature, fractals can be seen not only on coastlines but also river systems, blood vessels and crystals, to name a few. Philipson noted to In Sight that his images could be “massive landscapes, deep valleys, canyons … it’s a trick of the eye but I’m really only maybe five feet over.”
If you have ever seen a Diane Arbus photograph you will remember it, and her very personal style. That can only be said about few photographers. Thank you Leif Skoogfors for sharing this interesting article.