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we tell stories


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we tell stories


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La Calle Pura


© Alfredo Chiarappa

La Calle Pura


© Alfredo Chiarappa

“El raggaeton es la calle pura,” tells me El Chiki, a professional dancer. “There’s no raggaeton without the street, and there’s no street without raggaeton,” adds El Tiger.

In Havana, raggaeton is the soundtrack of the suburbs.
Just outside of the city centre, where old musicians entertain tourists playing salsa and other traditional Cuban rhythms, all you hear are the hits of Gente de Zona (winners of a Grammy), Chacal, Jacob Forever, Chocolate, Harrison e El Principe.
In the markets or out in the streets, shop owners only blast raggaeton from their stereos.

“Cuban raggaeton is split in two genres — farandula and repartero,” explains Capetillo, author and singer. You can tell farandula by the romantic lyrics and the way the artists who produce it show off their wealth. It’s played in the top clubs, like Capri, where Adriano DJ organizes one of the most prestigious soirees, each time inviting one of the most popular artists on the Cuban music scene like Yomil e Dani, Jacob Forever, El Principe, Angels, Lady Laura.

Repartero, on the other hand, is the music of the barrio — the lyrics are raw and they talk about day-to-day life. It still seems confined to the island, while almost all farandula artists live in Miami and only go back to Cuba for live shows and to see their families. Repartero reminds me of a mix between rap and Jamaican dancehall, but every time I dare to make this comparison everybody tells me that no, “Cuban music is Cuban music.” That makes me understand Cubans don’t like to be defined.

Despite the obvious differences between the genres, frequent collaborations between farandula and repartero artists blur the line between the two — as with many other things in Cuba, music is a mezcla of different cultures.  What they wear is also a mix of street cultures, a revisited urban style, since most brands that can be found there are fake.

The artists love gold — the symbol of who made it — and their street style is not exactly in line with the Revolution. Their bodies are covered in tattoos and sexual references are a constant, in lyrics and concerts too.  Everybody shows me the video where Chacal mimics a full intercourse with a fan during a live at Liceo de Regla, a club where, thanks to Havana Vip planing, the best artists perform at a reasonable price.

Seeing a show is not something everyone can afford: Jacob’s live at Liceo costs 4 cuc, Yomil e Dani’s at Capri is 50 cuc.  The most popular solution for a Friday night then is to go to one of the block parties that kids organize all across the island, like the ones I went to in Alamar, just outside of Havana.

As the spontaneous block parties in the suburbs show, raggaeton doesn’t spread through traditional channels.  On the contrary: raggaeton videos are rarely seen on national media, as they’re blamed of putting forward ideals that are not in line with the country’s history and identity, particularly when it comes to showing off riches and women.
Nonetheless, piracy is legal in Cuba, so there are plenty of stores selling compilations with the most-wanted songs of the week, video-cds called “El Paquete”. Artists pay to get their songs and videos on them, hoping DJs and clubs will play them and that they’ll be invited to do a live show.

Music production and distribution doesn’t bring any money to artists, so shows are the only way for them to earn money.

While shooting in Cuba I meet some of the best artists around at the moment, like Harrison, Jacob Forever and El Tiger. It’s very hard to talk to Jacob — he arrives a few seconds before his concert, allows me to take a couple of portraits of him and shortly after grabs his phone and starts texting nervously. He lives between Miami and Havana, he’s very well-known outside of the country too and has collaborated with some of the best raggaeton artists in the world. The show is very powerful, it lasts a bit longer than an hour and during the last song security guards take Jacob away. After seeing a few more shows, I realize it’s more of a way of doing things than a necessity: the artist who doesn’t want to give himself to his fans fits right into Cuba’s new narrative, already close to a Western and globalized lifestyle.

“We didn’t go to school, we don’t know anything about music but music makes us live. In my lyrics, there’s only what I live through everyday,” Harrison tells me. A mix of dancehall and rap — according to me, at least — in raggaeton terms, with strong lyrics and an aggressive show, right now make him the future of Cuban repartera music. Talking about his most famous song, “El Rey,” a diss against Chocolate, the artist who invented the repartero genre, he concludes: “The street, the people say that I’m the king. I didn’t decide that myself, they did.”

click to view the complete set of images in the archive 

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New York Indie Booksellers


A Project by Franck Bohbot (Photographs) and Philippe Ungar (Interviews)

New York Indie Booksellers


A Project by Franck Bohbot (Photographs) and Philippe Ungar (Interviews)

Every indie bookstore has a personality and every individual can find one whose character suits him. Not just the books themselves and the authors, but the very bookstore itself. It is, in a sense, finding oneself in a place where one can discover a community. Books provide bridges between people. These booksellers’ portraits are a reflection of their customers and ultimately of their neighborhoods, and collectively make a portrait of New York City.

Historically the City has had a wealth of indie bookstores, but the recent past has seen a serious decline in those numbers, in part due to bargain megastores, internet retailers, the ascension of the e-book, not to mention the spectacular rise of their monthly rents.

Today there is a revival in indie bookstores, mostly in Manhattan and Brooklyn. Their diversity is extraordinary, specializing in biography, travel, mystery fiction, stories for children, gender, poetry, collectible, academic, African-American literature, Hispanic culture, cooking and much more. And their spaces too are so different, from a container in Bushwick to a prestigious building in midtown Manhattan. Nevertheless, the booksellers are all looking for one thing--sharing their passion for books; new, used, bargained or rare.

Franck Bohbot and I, both expats from France, love New York and we love books. We have portrayed these booksellers to better understand their stories, their visions of their job and their involvement in the New York culture.

 

Philippe Ungar

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Perfect Girls


© Marie Hald/Moment

Perfect Girls


© Marie Hald/Moment

Is there thing as perfection? I’m not sure I believe there is. 

Yet we strive for it, me and my girlfriends. A lot of people tell us this is just what being in your twenties is like. You’ve had a hard time figuring out your place in the world and are now starting to earn what adulthood is about.

But when I look around, I see something happening. 
My friends are dropping out of their universities, taking sick leaves for stress and anxiety. 
It has happened to at least six of my friends in the last couple of years.

Their doctors prescribe them anti depressants and order them to take a break. It's the overwhelming need and demand to be perfect that tortures us.

When I look at my parents’ generation, it was a different story. The demands from society weren't that imminent. And at the same time they had a common struggle: The hippies, the women's and the gay rights movements. With my generation, it seems like we’re just fighting ourselves, solo.

The expectations of us – the kids of the late eighties, early nineties - are enormous. Living in rich welfare countries, we have all the possibilities in the world to become successful. To look successful and beautiful like the people we follow on social media, to develop careers, have the “X Factor”, become famous, marry whoever we want, and be perfect mothers.

But what happens when the pressure becomes too much for us?
The women of my group of friends are tired of the pressure. They want to make a riot or at least do something, so that the same thing doesn't happen to their own kids. 

In the following portraits you will meet them and hear what they have to say.

 

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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The Revival of the Aral Sea


© Didier Bizet

The Revival of the Aral Sea


© Didier Bizet

The little village of Tastubek situated in the little Aral sea, (the north part of the Aral sea) which has been forever altered by the Soviet Union, is situated 90km from Aralsk, a former port on the Aral Sea. Since the completion of the Kokaral dam in 2005 financed by the world bank, and the installation of an electricity grid in 2009, the winds of change have reached Tastubek. Akerke and her husband Nurzhan moved to the village a few years ago, making a living fishing, an industry which seemed to have been wiped out in this region of Kazakstan until recently. More than 15 kinds of fish have reemerged, allowing fishing production to expand from 600 tons in 1996 to 7,200 tons today said Serik Dyussenbayev, a guide living in Aralsk.
Bracing the 45-degree heat in summer and the -25-degree winters, Nurzhan and his fishermen friends, work 7 days a week. And so in Tastubek, in the far-off Aral Sea, Akerke, Nurzhan and their daughter Dilnaz can now feel every hope for the future. It seems that time has changed now in the little Aral sea region, the ground is getting more green and birds sing along the reeds. The project of the second phase of the dam with 4 meters higher will bring the water to Aralsk and fully restore the North part says Serik. But at the moment, money is going to the Expo2017 in Astana and only the president Noursoultan Nazarbaïev will
decide when.

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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Cryos


© Giulio Di Sturco

Cryos


© Giulio Di Sturco

Can a single company be responsible for the birth of up 70.000 children in the world? Yes. The global sperm donation industry is booming, has a leader country and a sperm bank claimed as the largest sperm bank in the world. Cryos, a company that was established in Aarhus in 1987, has become one of Denmark’s top exports delivering to more than 80 countries: about 96 percent of its sperm is exported.


As the market developed and demand increased, initially from heterosexual couples with fertility issues and then from single mothers and homosexual couples, the Danish laboratories became a reference point due to many factors. The high quality human sperm and eggs from selected and screened donors, the supposed virility of Danish men linked with the demand of a ‘Viking baby’, apparently a big detail that makes the difference. In many countries it is illegal to use non-anonymous donors (this influences the low number of local donors like in the UK, one-third of the sperm used there is imported) but the large selection of Cryos bank provides both types, anonymous or named. A great amount of information can be offered if the donor is indeed named. Potential parents can listen to the voices of donors, read about their childhood, see their baby photos, know race, ethnicity, eye and hair color, height, weight, blood type and in most cases education and occupation. The price depends on the profile chosen and it is also possible to choose for an exclusive donor (nobody else will purchase/reserved sperm from this man's profile). This comes at a price though, a whopping additional 12,000 euros! Delivery is available for EU countries (1-2 weekdays) or the rest of the world (1-5 weekdays) with dry ice or liquid nitrogen containers. From the bank to your home: this is the way Cryos delivers new life to this planet.

 

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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Referendum


© Michael Thomas Jones

Referendum


© Michael Thomas Jones

The political scene in the last few years in the UK has been dominated by two significant referendums. The first in 2014 asked the question of the Scottish people: Should Scotland be an independent country? More recently in 2016 the question put to the people of the UK as a whole was: Should we leave the European Union?

These questions are the motivation behind the projects.

Train Stations, tombstones, borders between the living and the dead, between infinitude and the hermetic world of the city, city gates, cities unto themselves. When identities vanish train stations sprout. If every border had a train station of its own, what marvelous confusion would ensue, what a crush, what mockery
— Dasa Drndik, Trieste
The man who loves his fatherland, his nation above all else has cancelled any commitment he might have to European solidarity. To love means to esteem - even perhaps to overestimate - the object of love. To love with open eyes, critically, is something only very few people are capable of doing. Most people’s love is blind. Not only are they incapable of seeing the faults of their nation, their country, they are even inclined to see its faults as instances of human virtue
— Joseph Roth, Die Warheit, December 1934

ARTICE 50
 

On the decision to leave the EU

In June 2016 the United Kingdom voted to leave the European Union. The process of negotiation on the mechanics of leaving are underway. In Europe and throughout the West the established political landscapes are being challenged and the future of the EU is by no means certain.

Railways have been integral to the modern economic and social development of Europe, to the drive of capitalism and industrialisation and to the integration and the displacement of people. The railways have been both host and witness to Europe's modern history. The railways hold a unique position in the way we move around our environment which is routed in our collective cultural experience. Like the US road trip, railway journeys have an inherent romance, and trains - being able to carry many people with freedom to move around within them - become a moving microcosm of our society. Trains encourage interaction and chance meetings. One only has to think of the significance of inter-railing to so many young people, with the European rail network opening up before them as metaphor for their futures, to understand the significance railways have in our society. The freedom of movement, of trade and people, a fundamental tenet of the EU seems symbiotic with railways. In 1994 the Channel Tunnel opened creating a physical bond via the tracks between the UK and Europe's mainland one year after the Maastricht Treaty cemented the EU in legislation.

The decision taken in the UK to leave the EU has divided the country. Using the railways as the means of travelling throughout the EU, people making journeys throughout Europe will become the faces and provide the stories through which the work will elaborate. Interviews made alongside portraits will become a patchwork narrative describing diverse perspectives and creating an overall 'sound' of Europe.. The project is also a document, both visual and literal,  of a journey to understand the issues and decisions that led to the creation of the EU and its development and also to investigate the political and social issues now affecting it's future.

Julien. Between Cologne and Liege

Julien. Between Cologne and Liege

Equally fundamental to the project will be body of text in conjunction with the imagery based on interviews conducted with the people I meet on the rail trips around Europe. Conversations will be guided towards discussions of Europe and people’s perceptions of Europe and their relationship to it. There will be no specific coercion to discuss the UK’s role however that will not be purposefully avoided either. Instead it will be a collection of testimony based on anecdote, biography, history and speculation, from mundane tales of every day life to more 'powerful' stories. This will become a sort of ‘noise’ of Europe, mixing narrative from different sources as well as my own to create an overall European story.

Ciaran, between Antwerp and Brussels

Ciaran, between Antwerp and Brussels

Tilde Van Uytven, Antwerp

Tilde Van Uytven, Antwerp

In 1920 my mother was born in Amsterdam, her brother 2 years later. They lived in Vondelstraat 7, in a posh part of town and had servants. In 1932 because of bankruptcy they fled to Belgium with hardly anything, hoping to make a new start there. After some wandering they settled in a house in the countryside near Brussels. My mother recalled she only had one pair of shoes. She had to go to a French-speaking school while she didn’t speak French. She learned quickly though and did well in school.

My grandfather had decided to start dealing in vegetables and fruit. So he went to the early morning wholesale market in Sint Katelijne Waver (close to Mechelen) and delivered to customers and shops. Soon his son joined him; going to school wasn’t really his thing anyway.
— Tilde Van Uytven

A9

On the question of Scottish independence

The A9 is the longest road in Scotland. Historically it was the main road between Edinburgh and John o’ Groats, and has been called the spine of Scotland. A referendum on whether Scotland should be an independent country took place on Thursday 18 September 2014. Scotland voted (narrowly) to remain part of the UK. This project looks at the topography of Scotland along the A9. The people, within these images and landscapes, were identified and asked which way they would vote.

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On board the Kolkata Mail


© Giulio Di Sturco

On board the Kolkata Mail


© Giulio Di Sturco

From Bombay to Calcutta, the history of modern India travels aboard the legendary Train 12322

GEO France commissioned the story and published it in two parts

From the colonial empire to the "largest democracy in the world", the thread of Indian history runs in the form of railway lines. 65,000 km, to be precise, largely designed by the British administration for connecting the metropolises of a giant empire. Victorian railway stations, timetables, standardized rails, hierarchical administration ... The colonial imprint extends to some trains which have become legendary such as the "Imperial Mail ', Known as the most luxurious line in the world, which also since 1926 connects the two economic poles in the subcontinent: Bombay in the West and Calcutta in the East.

Today, 70 years after independence, the line is still active. The number 12322 is registered on the locomotive of the "Kolkata Mail", which connects Mumbai to Kolkata, under the new name of the cities supported by the Hindu nationalist party in power. But this trip is no longer that of the VIP 'Raj'; it is a lifeline, serving 48 stations, each telling a piece of the history of an ever changing nation. A cheap train that is both popular and overloaded, step by step, it is an India torn between past and future, tradition and modernity, scrolling screens and speeds of 55 km/h journeys. Along the historic route people take breaks: in Mughal Sarai, Asia's largest marshalling yard, every week tens of thousands of pilgrims are hosted at the ghats of Varanasi;  and then on to Dhanbad, the black lung of Indian growth, where coal fills the air like a smoke screen...

Party Chhatrapati station (former Victoria station), is a historical monument in Mumbai. The Kolkata Mail marks its terminus at Howrah station, the oldest station in the country (opened in 1905) and the beating heart of Calcutta. The end of the trip draws a unique testimony to India's Railway systems; it is one of the largest employers in the world with 1.6 million employees and its users. A look at the depth of about 70 years of independence, over the rails, rituals of life on board and steps marked throughout this country-continent.

This report is the discovery of India, from West to East, aboard the Kolkata Mail, the most historic railway on the occasion of 70 years of independence.

Text © Thomas Saintouren

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The Perfect Place to Die


© Toby de Silva

The Perfect Place to Die


© Toby de Silva

The forest floor is littered with a seemingly endless amount of coloured tape used to mark the locations of new found remains from suicide victims.

The forest floor is littered with a seemingly endless amount of coloured tape used to mark the locations of new found remains from suicide victims.

The first thing you notice is the silence, an uncanny embrace of tranquility paradoxical to the submersion in nature. You don’t hear birds or insects, you don’t hear traffic from the road you just left, if you encounter another person you don’t hear them, they just appear pass by and are gone. Sometimes its a couple of hikers, usually it’s a middle aged man in a business suit. Occasionally the wind will blow the treetops and for a moment there is a feeling of life, but it passes quickly and the silence returns to leave you waiting for the sound of a twig on the floor to snap ominously behind you or for the bear who’s warning sign attached to a lamp post you observed skeptically from the safety of your hire car to come crashing through the undergrowth enraged by your trespassing. But they never materialize and you are alone in a landscape permeated with the resonance of death

The terrain is irregular, an endless grotesque topography of volcanic rock and twisted, tangled trees. Stepping off the few defined trails soon leads to the detritus of despair, the residue of a campsite, a last supper of instant noodles uneaten as there is no source of hot water, cigarette boxes and every type of alcohol, discarded clothing, pornography, the packaging from kitchen knifes and lengths of rope. Then there’s the tape, miles of it going in every direction, some fresh some ancient and frayed, dissecting the forest, each piece with its own story leading to another victim someone once discovered, but in their place are the religious effigies, the bouquet’s and the fruit that the bereaved have left in remembrance

The Aokigahara forest is positioned on the northwestern slopes of Mount Fuji, which towers majestically over it like a benevolent guardian. There are stories of distant generations practicing Ubasute, the abandonment of parents as a form of euthanasia in the forest. In recent times the Aokigahara gained its notoriety through Seicho Matsumoto’s 1960 novel Kuroi Jukai (Black Sea of Trees) wherein a couple of tragic young lovers commit suicide in the forest. The 1993 Complete Manual of Suicide by Wataru Tsurumi, a book that sold over a million copies in Japan that is often reportedly found amongst remains further enhanced the forests notoriety by proclaiming it to be ‘The Perfect Place to Die’. On average around seventy people successfully take their lives each year in the forest from upwards of two hundred who enter with the intention and either reconsider or survive the attempt, making Aokigahara Jukai the worlds leading suicide destination.

 

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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Calcio Storico


© Clara Vannucci

Calcio Storico


© Clara Vannucci

The world’s most violent game

The "Calcio Storico”, historical football, is a medieval ancestor of a fusion between modern rugby, street fighting and football. Dating back to the 16th century and still played every summer in Florence. 

Four teams, formed by 27 players each, named after four colors (white, red, green and blue) and representing respectively the four neighborhoods of Santo Spirito, Santa Maria Novella, San Giovanni and Santa Croce, face each other every year in the beautiful setting of Santa Croce square under a merciless Tuscan sun, using each part of their body. For injured, no substitutions are allowed, thats why the players, even if with broken bones, keep playing in the field for those endless 50 minutes of the game. 

There are a few rules, but choking, punching, and are allowed, making Calcio Storico a unique sport experience of medieval brutality.

 

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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Yangon Express


© Andrea Frazzetta

Yangon Express


© Andrea Frazzetta

From night to morning and to the evening. From track number 7 in Yangon Central Station in Myanmar, though the 38 stations that surround the city, spread regularly as if they were notes on a 29 mile music score. 
Outside a landscape mosaic that swing between suburban and rural, each with its own access to the Ciruclar Line.
Danyiangon, Hledan, Kanbe and more. Small stations animated by the overflowing industry of the Burmese people, with goods of all kind spread through the tracks, taxi cabs on pedals waiting for customers, flower importers from the North, daily habits and rituals. Microcosms of landscapes that live their own lives, access points to the great city for thousands of people.
A kaleidoscope of faces, occupations and personal trajectories meeting up on circular trains, 23 each day, that in three hours run through their course and go back to Yangon station, where they had begun. Commuters and occasional travelers, some rare foreign tourist, families and monks, young activists, boys and girls attracted by the city’s vitality and shops.
This is the Circular Line: a split of Burma society, that after decades of regimes and isolation has tasted the first signs of democracy and international openness, at a historical time of transition and deep social, economic and political transformation. 

Now the Yangon’s famous Circular Line is set for a “rising ridership”, with an investment worth billions from Japan to upgrade the 29 miles track set to be undertaken in the 2017-18 financial year.
The Myanmar Railways will receive US$200 million in development financing to upgrade the circular railway line and has set an ambitious target of tripling commuter traffic.

 

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Humanoid


© Max Aguilera-Hellweg

Humanoid


© Max Aguilera-Hellweg

Hardcover: 96 pages Publisher: Blast Books (March 14, 2017) Language: English ISBN-10: 0922233470 ISBN-13: 978-0922233472

Hardcover: 96 pages
Publisher: Blast Books (March 14, 2017)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0922233470
ISBN-13: 978-0922233472

Welcome to the brave new world in which humanoid robots—exciting, thrilling, frightening to some, strange to others, controversial, lifesaving—will change our lives in countless ways. Max Aguilera-Hellweg explores the turning point in the evolution of robot science, where robots are becoming more like humans, crossing the great divide between data processing and sentience. 

 

I could just snap a picture and leave. But it’s not that easy. Humanoids, androids— they make them look like humans. Why make a robot with a head and eyes? Certainly there are robots that don’t have a head or a pair of eyes, robots that could be made or that already exist that are safe for humans to be around, that have the ability to perform various jobs, that are probably cheaper to build, and that may be even better at doing whatever we’d want or need a robot to do. But scientists have found it’s the eye contact that matters: just as important as eye contact is between humans, it is the glue that makes human-robot social interaction work. 

You walk into a room, you see a humanoid there, you suspend disbelief—you don’t even realize it, but it happens. All of a sudden it has a gender: CB2 is a he, Bina48 is a she, and Valkyrie is a girl; they call her Val for short. You start talking to the robot, or she or he starts talking to you; you’re talking to a machine and it’s talking back to you. Having a robot with a head and eyes, speaking to each other as we do human to human, as opposed to performing complex data entry on a keypad or switching one terminal on, one terminal off, operating a series of switches you’d have to turn on or off to perform a single task, speaking to a robot is ideal. There is no higher means of achieving complex communication with ease and speed than human to human-like communication. Why humanoids, why androids? Robots with heads and eyes allow for more than just speech; nonverbal communication is made possible, when the eyes say one thing and words another, or when the two agree. Nonverbal communication—conscious or unconscious, gestures and signals, the mediation of personal space is just as important and essential as trust is between any two individuals, whether they be human and human, or human and machine.

These photographs were taken in the United States and Japan over a six year period at some of the world's leading research facilities in robot enginerring and laboratrires studying human robot interacton. Robots (artificial intelligence) are already amonst us in ways that we may not even imagined just a few years ago (Siri), and they will become increasingly more apart of our daily lives. These photographs, these robots, represent a catalouge of how science and scientitst has been thinking of this integration, viewing them is a journey into a future that is already upon us, the Darwinian/evolutionary curve of Android, Human, and Human Robot Interaction. The world has changed and will never be the same. They ask the question, what does it mean to be human. Be not afraid.

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Cholita


© Susana Raab

Cholita


© Susana Raab

El que no tiene dinga tiene de mandinga. (He that is not Inka is Mandinka).  

 

Peruvian by birth and father, I left the country at the age of two when my parents divorced.  Estranged from my father for nearly all my life, Peru has always been a sort of enigmatic talisman for me, a key piece of a fractured identity.  When I first started visiting the country as a young adult, I was surprised to find myself affectionately called la cholita gringa by my friends and acquaintances.  Surprised because I heard the term used in reference in a variety of manners; different in respect to the taxi driver in the street, versus the friend coming to visit.

Cholo is first recorded in the 17th century in the Inca Garcilaso de la Vega’s Commentarios Reales de los Incas and is used to identify the offspring of native and black parents. Today in Peru cholo, or its masculine or feminine diminutive (cholito/cholita) is a common phrase with positive and negative connotations depending on the context, and reflects the complex, unstated socio-economic rules by which modern day Peru continues to abide.

Yet the word itself conveys one of many paradoxes of Perú: to love and hate something at the same time, to be both mother country and oppressor.  “We are two Perús,” a friend of mine often says. I was drawn to this paradox.

Initially, I began this project as an anthropological look at modern coastal Perú, I wanted to represent this Peruvian under-class - the cholos sin plata, whose representation in modern society is often portrayed as dirty and disreputable, placing them in a more democratic context by using the coast as an ambiguous backdrop to their lives. Later, the project has evolved into something more personal. 

 

The photographs in Cholita, form a family album, wherein I reclaim a lost family and magical kingdom on the Peruvian coast.

 

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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Fathers


© Gabriele Galimberti

Fathers


© Gabriele Galimberti

It’s a Saturday night in late February. The year is 1986. I am eight-and-a-half years old and I’m getting ready for bed. I’m very excited for the morning to arrive.  That’s because, in just a few hours, something will happen that’s been happening almost every Sunday for the last year. I’ll feel my father’s hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake as his voice says, “Gabri, wake up! It’s six o’clock. We’re going fishing.”  For over a year, ever since my mom gave my dad a little fishing boat, this has been our Sunday routine – my father and I, alone or sometimes with friends, head out to Lake Trasimeno.

It’s a day just for us, a day of waiting, of talking, and of long silences. Luckily, the bursts of good cheer over the catch of a fish aren’t too few or far between.

It’s been thirty years since those Sunday mornings, and the most vivid childhood memories I have with my father are, without a doubt, the ones connected to fishing.  He still goes, almost every Sunday. As for me – maybe because I’m hardly ever home, perhaps because, when I am, I’m too lazy to get up at six in the morning – I haven’t gone with him for many years.  Now it’s my brother-in-law and nephew’s turn to go fishing with him.

 

Lately, I’ve been enjoying spending Sundays with my friends, often in the company of their children. Almost everyone around me has become a parent over the last few years. A couple of friends and I are the only ones in our group who still don’t have kids of our own. 

I naturally began to observe how the others were raising their children. I watch them playing together, hear the arguments and the kids’ complaints at mealtimes or at bedtime. I’ve often been the one in charge of the kids when those moments happen.

Just maybe, all of these things are making me start to want to be a father. When I watch my closest friends, as well as all of the fathers that I meet around the world, and when I recall those memories from my childhood of the time spent with my dad, I feel like I’m preparing myself for my moment, if it ever arrives.

That is why I’ve decided to make the relationships between fathers and their children the focus of this project.  Wherever I am in the world, when I meet a father I ask him to tell me about a special moment he has spent with his children and, when I can, I photograph them together.

 

That is how I have put together this collection of stories of fathers and their children – stories that I take as either lessons or advice for those who, like me, might have kids of their own someday.

 

click to view the complete set of images in the archive

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Generation Wealth


© Lauren Greenfield

Generation Wealth


© Lauren Greenfield

Oh please, Americans do not hate the rich; they want to be them. Every American believes that they are the impending rich, and that will never change.
— Fran Lebowitz
Generation Wealth is being published as Donald Trump becomes president of the United States. Perhaps more than any other public figure, Trump represents the culture that Greenfield has chronicled...Trump, and Trumpism, becomes far more understandable after a trip through Greenfield’s America.
— Juliet Schor
Phaidon Hardback English Lauren Greenfield, with a foreword by Juliet Schor 305 x 229 mm, 12 x 9 in 504 pp 625 colour illustrations ISBN-13: 9780714872124 ISBN-10: 0714872121

Phaidon
Hardback
English
Lauren Greenfield, with a foreword by Juliet Schor
305 x 229 mm, 12 x 9 in
504 pp
625 colour illustrations
ISBN-13: 9780714872124
ISBN-10: 0714872121

INTRODUCTION BY LAUREN GREENFIELD - Generation Wealth is the fruition of a twenty-five-year documentary inquiry into what I have called “the influence of affluence.” Consciously at times—and at other times unconsciously—I have captured signs of a seismic shift in our culture. I began to recognize the pattern in 2008, during the financial crisis, and I have been trying to decipher it ever since, both by making new work for this project and by editing the photographs I’ve made throughout my career.

The title of the project and many of the pictures could mislead the reader to think that this is a work about the 1 percent, about people who are wealthy. It is not. This work is about the aspiration for wealth and how that has become a driving force—and at the same time an increasingly unrealistic goal—for individuals from all classes of society. We have less social mobility now than we had in prior generations, and, more than ever before, a greater concentration of wealth is in the hands of the few. Flouting this reality, the “American Dream” has grown to outsized proportions. “People don’t dream in modest terms anymore. They all want to live in Mar-a-Lago with Donald Trump,” says social critic Chris Hedges, whom I interviewed for this book and companion film. As our political system becomes less democratic—with wealthy donors and well-funded special-interest lobby groups exercising disproportionate influence on elections and legislation—we have experienced a democratization of the signifiers of wealth. Luxury for the common man, woman, and child defines the new American Dream. And if you don’t have money, as Emanuel, one of my teenage subjects in Los Angeles, assures us, “There are ways to make it seem like you do.” The aptly named rapper Future explains that the strategy is to “fake it till you make it.” This sentiment is echoed by many of my subjects who seek material-based status, from Minnesota to Milan, South Central Los Angeles to Shanghai, Dubai to Moscow. As Hedges attests, fictitious representations of a luxury lifestyle have replaced actual social mobility. The fact that many of the images in this book appear to be of worlds of wealth and belie their reality is precisely the point for both the subjects and for the image-maker (me) in an image-based culture.

Exhibit APR 8, 2017 - AUG 13, 2017 Location Annenberg Space for Photography 2000 Avenue of the Stars Los Angeles, CA 90067

Exhibit
APR 8, 2017 - AUG 13, 2017

Location
Annenberg Space for Photography
2000 Avenue of the Stars
Los Angeles, CA 90067

As a photographer and filmmaker, and in a variety of media, from analog to digital, I have been asking questions about the culture of materialism, the cult of celebrity, and presentation-based status since my first major project, Fast Forward: Growing Up in the Shadow of Hollywood, which I began in 1992 and published as my first book in 1997. That work explored those themes in the context of youth culture in Los Angeles and was inspired by my own high-school experience. At the time, I was struck by the early loss of innocence in our media-saturated culture, taking stock of a generation impacted by what I called “the values of Hollywood.” In that early work, I documented the excesses of the affluent, the attraction of what we now term “bling” among the poor, and the desire for fame and status-based image across boundaries of class, race, and neighborhood. What started to emerge in front of my camera was the dramatic influence of commercial pressures on young people’s values and behavior, as well as an unexpected homogenization of youth culture resulting from the shared consumption of increasingly ubiquitous media messages. I remember saying on the radio, while discussing my Fast Forward book, that despite the dramatic divisions in the city revealed by the L.A. riots, which I had covered in 1992, rich kids and poor kids had found common ground that their parents had not, and it was a shared love for Versace. ..Click to read the entire introduction essay by Lauren Greenfield

click this link to view the complete set of images in the archive (same order as in the monograph)

Visit the Generation Wealth website here

Front and back cover of Phaidon monograph below, plus sample pages...buy it here