Known for his unique style of animal photography, London-based photographer Giacomo Brunelli’s latest body of work marks a departure as he focuses upon himself and his own relationship with the landscape in a series of distinctive and powerful self-portraits. Continuing to work in the black and white style that is a marked signature of his oeuvre, he carefully constructs his photographs so his shadow becomes an integrated element of the landscape, ‘with no barrier between them’ and the environment with which he chooses to interact.

Above Self-Portraits, 2011-2012. (©Giacomo Brunelli/Courtesy of the photographer).

In what may be viewed as a triptych, the artists shadow falls upon a furrow, the soil mirroring the contour of his head, through subsequent frames the furrow slowly begins to erode, before finally leaving Brunelli’s shadow visually decapitated. In another of these distinct compositions, that have more in common with land art, than more conventional forms of self-portraiture, his shadow falls on a large tuft of grass. From the dense tone of his lower torso, the upper elements of his body appears constructed from grasses like some form of wicker man, and from his shoulders and upper arms sprout shards of illuminated grass that contrast with darkness of the shadow and the landscape beyond. 

Above Self-Portraits, 2011-2012. (©Giacomo Brunelli/Courtesy of the photographer).

Against the backdrop of densely shadowed woodland, Brunelli’s once more headless torso  falls upon a fallen tree truck, it’s bleached and contoured form almost bone like in quality, as it curves downwards, following the line of the photographers clavicle. As the textured wood seeps through the shadow, it appears almost skeletal in form, and as such it appears as if the viewer is looking into the very sole of the artist. In another of these distinct portraits, the bright sunlight with which Brunelli works, casts his shadow on to a bale of hay which lies to the left of his composition, to the right a dense woodland, bordered by a meadow that appears to disolve into Brunelli's image, blurring the boundary between the fore and background, and eating away at the shadow. 

Above Self-Portraits, 2011-2012. (©Giacomo Brunelli/Courtesy of the photographer).

Whilst the self-portrait has fascinated artists since the very earliest periods, the use of the shadow in such works is almost exclusively owned by the photographic medium. With the considered interaction between the photographer and the landscape Brunelli takes this form of portraiture to a new level, as he questions his own understanding and place in the natural landscape, in images that present the shadow as an integrated part of the landscape, rather than simply a shadow on the landscape.

Selected prints from this series will be on show at the Print Room, The Photographers’ Gallery, London when it reopens on the 19 May 2012.

Further Reading The ‘animal-focused street photography’ of Giacomo Brunelli.

Above Dave at McDonalds, Hollywood, California, 1989. (©Jim Goldberg/Magnum Photos/Courtesy of Chris Beetles Fine Photographs). 

Established by Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908-2004), Robert Capa (1913-1954), David ‘Chim’ Seymour (1911-1956) and George Rodger (1908-1995) in 1947, Magnum Photos holds a special place in the history of photojournalism. For some, membership has been viewed as the pinnacle of their profession; but the road to becoming a full member of the iconic collective is a long and rigorous process.

Prospective members must first submit his or her portfolio to the existing members at the Annual General Meeting. Favoured by a majority vote a preliminary ‘Nominee’ status — lasting two years — is awarded before the photographer submits a further, extended portfolio to become an ‘Associate.’  Two years on and the Associate is eligible to apply for full membership, becoming a shareholder in the company and obtaining full voting rights if they are successful in their application. Today, 65 years after it’s founding Magnum Photo’s has reached 62 members (this includes those who where at the time of their death full members), from each of whom one image has been selected to form the exhibition Magnum 62 at London’s Chris Beetles Fine Photographs. 

Largely in black and white, many of these images are well known, even iconic, whilst others are less familiar and punctuate the exhibition space. Cartier-Bresson’s Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare taken in 1932, captures a man mid-air as he leaps from a makeshift wooden walkway across a large puddle — a rare image in the French photographer's pantheon as it brakes with his own philosophy of never cropping his negatives when printing. There is the portrait of two Nubian wrestlers, one sitting on the shoulders of the other, taken by Rodger in Sudan in 1949; and there are portraits of a young Sophia Loren by Seymour, and Eve Arnold’s (1912-2012) studio portrait of Marilyn Monroe. 

Capa is represented by possibly his most famous image, taken on Omaha Beach as American troops begin the D-Day invasion under heavy enemy fire, a photograph full of power and emotion. In contrast 'The Tank Man’ by Stuart Franklin taken in 1989 — one of only 14 colour images in the exhibition — depicts a lone man standing before a column of government tanks in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, has become a powerful symbol of the Chinese peoples struggle against oppression by their own government. 

Above US actress Marilyn Monroe, California, Los Angeles, studio sessions, 1960. (©Eve Arnold/Magnum Photos/Courtesy of Chris Beetles Fine Photographs). 

A small white terrier appears suspended in mid-air next to it’s owner in the humour filled photograph by Elliot Erwitt taken in 1989; the feelings of a nation in mourning are captured in Paul Fusco’s photograph taken from the funeral train of Robert Kennedy as its makes it way across America; there is Chien-Chi Chang’s portrait of a newly-arrived immigrant as he eats a bowl of noodles on the fire escape of his New York apartment; the gentle study of Tulku Khentrul Lodro Rabsel with his tutor Lhagyel Shechen at the Bodnath Monastery in Nepal by Martine Franck; and Bruce Gilden’s in your face portrait of Ted Landers and Daniela Urzi as they saunter down a New York street.

Amongst the less familiar images, but certainly no less engaging; is a photograph of two racehorses being exercised on Laytown Beach, Ireland in 1988, by one of the new breed of Magnum photographers Donovan Wylie, who took the image when only 17-years of age; a Burmese woman, her neck extended and exaggerated by a series of heavy rings is depicted in Hiroji Kubota’s graphic portrait; whilst David Alan Harvey reveals a surreal scene as a white horse stands on the porch of a house in Trinidad, Cuba; in an equally bizarre and curious image, a man crawls behind a Hamburg park bench captured by Richard Kalvar; whilst at a political meeting in Yozgat, Turkey, a butterfly alights on the shoulder of one the protesters in an image by Nikos Economopoulos.

As one looks at these collected images we are offered a snapshot of the last six decades in 62 images by some of the finest photographers of our time; from documenting the horrors of war and conflict to portraying the key faces of our culture and politics, Magnum’s photographers have sought to tell their individual stories with honesty and creativity. 

Magnum 62 is at Chris Beetles Fine Photgraphs, London until 19 May 2012.

Above Tent occupied by Phil, from Poland. (©Ben Roberts/Courtesy of Here Press).

On the 15 October 2011, protestors representing the global Occupy Movement established a semi-permanent camp outside London’s historic St. Paul’s Cathedral. Like the camps established elsewhere in the world, it quickly attracted the attention of the news media, with a number of media and news outlets running a story ten days later, that claimed ‘thermal imaging’ had proved only 10% of the 250 tents in St. Paul’s Square were being inhabited overnight.

Reading these stories, British photographer Ben Roberts found himself ‘sceptical of these claims,’ and set about documenting the interiors of the camps tents, marking his work out from the many other visual essays produced around the world, that focused largely upon the protestors. Whilst Occupied Spaces — which forms Robert’s first book — is devoid of physical presence, this is not to suggest the tents, as the media had suggested are empty, but in fact heightens the understanding of those that are protesting, as we enter their personal spaces and encounter the various items found there, and those items to found in the larger communal spaces at the heart of the camp. 

Above Main information tent. (©Ben Roberts/Courtesy of Here Press).

Like the camp itself the sequencing of Roberts’ images places the personal tents of the protestors on the outer pages; whilst on the central pages we encounter the communal spaces: a first aid tent, a theatre, and information tent. ‘From the outset, the mood of the London assembled was intensely creative and focused,’ writes Naomi Colvin in her essay United for #Globalchange.

One of the first tents we encounter, belonging too Cyrille a protestor from London, appears like an art installation by the Japanese artist, Yayoi Kusama, with it’s white polkadot shell that shields a blue and turquoise sleeping bag occupying the right hand side of the frame, at the far end of the tent a sports bag with vibrant red strip lies empty next to a newspaper, whilst in the foreground a carton of fruit juice, a large orange and a bottle of mineral water are placed next to a handwritten sign that simply reads ‘EAT ME.’  

Above Tent occupied by Cyrille from London. (©Ben Roberts/Courtesy of Here Press).

‘The traces of activity and inhabitance serve as a document of the intense utilisation of a limited space by a large number of both permanent and temporary residents,’ remarks Roberts. In another of the tents — this time belonging to Phil from Poland — set against the backdrop of a blue camouflage shell, a red sleeping bag contrasts with a primary yellow ground sheet, and it in turn with a black sheet. To the left, the tidy space contrasts with the right which is more cluttered, with disposable cups, a black and white theatrical mask, scraps of paper, a can or shaving foam, and the occupants wallet strewn along the tents perimeter. The shared tent occupied by Madrid’s 15M group, feels almost sparse in comparison, with the only colour in this otherwise monochrome interior coming from a floral bed mat, and flattened Corona Extra boxes, that help insulate the occupants from the winter cold, and little in the way of personal items. 

‘I hope that the images give some sense of the experience of an occupation based protest — far from their being a surplus of empty tents for protesters, I found that space was at a premium in every corner of the St Paul's camp; the canteen, information and university tents were overcrowded with occupiers, passers by and volunteers,’ says Roberts.

Above Tech tent. (©Ben Roberts/Courtesy of Here Press).

Entering the inner sanctum of the camp, we find the tech tent: here a desk covered in paper work is held together by gaffer tape, an old office chair is set to one side, whilst to the right of the desk a makeshift storage unit is constructed from cardboard boxes and more thick black tape. In a corner of the kitchen tent sits a stack of donated tinned food, whilst in the main information tent, a central desk is surrounded by numerous noticeboards and pieces of paper taped to the tents walls with key phone numbers and information, one reads ‘Noise officers’ another ‘Recycling,’ whilst another simply states, ‘Don’t Panic,’ and a series of snapshots are arranged together around a note that states, ‘Photographed by Ken Garland.’

In eliminating the protestors from his photographs, Roberts’ presents a unique and highly intimate portrait of the camp, that tells us more about who the Occupy Movement protestors are than those photographic essays that focus upon the protestors themselves, and forms a significant social document of the global movement’s London campaign.

Occupied Spaces is published by Here Press.

Above Elaine 2012, by Dominique Percharde. (©Dominique Percharde/Courtesy of the photographer).

To raise funds for their upcoming final year show in June, 33 students from the University of Brighton’s BA Hons Photography program have published an untitled, small-format zine. Featuring their work which spans a spectrum of photographic genres, from Sarah Parker’s black and white photogram which graces the publications cover, to the sensitive portraits of Dominique Percharde, Olivia Poppy Coles and Erin Penlington, and the graphic qualities of Sean Gardiner’s work, to the social documentary of Harry Mitchell, and the nude study by Cara Palmer, to the still life work of Emma Speight, and Mike Duggleby’s constructed imagery; the text free zine offers a preview into what should be an interesting and diverse final year show.

The zine can be purchased here.

Above Luminant: BTV (A), Beijing, 2007-‐2008, Light box or Archival inkjet print: Light box, 192x240cm, Edition of 3; 100x125cm, Edition of 3; Archival inkjet print: 100x125cm, Edition of 3. (©Jiang Pengyi/Courtesy of the artist and Blindspot Gallery).

In Unregistered City, the Chinese photographer Jiang Pengyi — who received the Tierney Fellowship Award from the first annual Three Shadows Photography Award in 2009 and is nominated for the 2012 Prix Pictet award — reduced the massive skyscrapers now so familiar of Beijing’s skyline to miniature sizes placing them with humble interior spaces, reflecting the ‘illusive nature of the city’ that the artist now calls home, and a marked contrast to the small town of Yuanjiang in Hunan province, in which he was born and raised, reflecting the ‘artist’s state of mind in a city with constant development and demolition.’

With his latest series, Luminant, which is presented in the form of large-scale inkjet prints and light box installations, his focus remains on the iconic skyscrapers now found across China’s large cities, but this time he renders them as glowing luminescent obelisks that contrast with the darkened urban landscape around. 

Above Luminant: Government Affair Edifice of Hefei (A), 2007-2008, Light box or Archival inkjet print: Light box, 192x240cm, Edition of 3; 100x125cm, Edition of 3; Archival inkjet print: 100x125cm, Edition of 3. (©Jiang Pengyi/Courtesy of the artist and Blindspot Gallery).

In Luminant: BTV (A), Beijing, 2007-‐2008, a railway line emerges from the darkness of nightfall, drawing the eye through the Jiang’s composition to the glowing glass and steel structure that stands before us like something from Fritz Lang’s Metropolis. Taken from a very low angle, vibrant grasses fill the foreground of Luminant: Government Affair Edifice of Hefei (A), 2007-2008, partially obscuring the twin glass towers beyond. In heightening the sense of the superficial through a significant departure from reality in his work, Jiang asks the viewer to contemplate the ‘city’s over‐development and the society of spectacle dominated by consumption and mass media.’

Luminant is at Blindspot Gallery, Central, Hong Kong until 2 June 2012.

At the age of 20, Song Chao became interested in photography whilst working in China’s hazardous coal mines where he had begun work three years earlier. Over the next twelve months he honed and shaped his photographic technique, before commencing work on a series of powerful portraits of his colleagues in the mines. Working exclusively in black and white with a large-format camera, he quickly gained overwhelming international recognition for his portraits. 

Completed over the past two years, Migrant Workers, Song’s latest body of work continues to depict ‘the theatre of human emotions,’ this time focusing upon the phenomenon of China’s human migration in a series of engaging portraits of the countries manual workers — who travel huge distances in their endeavours to find work — that are marked by a simplicity and visual honesty.

Back and Forth is at Galerie Paris-Beijing, Paris until 9 June 2012.

Further reading: Song Chao’s Coal Miners.

Above The Cuillins From Elgol, Isle Of Skye. View No. 3, 2011. (©Julian Calverley/Courtesy of the photographer).

‘Landscape photography is the supreme test of the photographer — and often the supreme disappointment‘ — Ansel Adams (1902-1984)

As we look at the world of landscape photography — one of the central genres in contemporary photographic practice — there is a wealth of evidence to reinforce Adams’ statement, with so much of the genre lacking in an emotional relationship with the landscape that it depicts. But the work of British photographer Julian Calverley is far removed from these emotionally void encounters — going far beyond the purely pictorial — for he is one of the very few who has mastered his craft, with powerful works that are imbued with a spiritual sense of place.

In Landscape and Memory (Harper Collins, 1995), Simon Schama writes, ‘Before it can ever be the repose for the senses, landscape is the work of the mind. Its scenery is built up as much from strata of memory as from layers of rock.’ It is this sense of memory that is at the very core of Calverley’s affinity with the British landscape, that dates back to his childhood and the memories of numerous family holidays spent wild camping in and around the Scottish Highlands and Western Isles, an area that continues to draw him back year after year, often visiting the same remote location over and over again in his photography. 

Above Rosehall Forest, Near Lairg, Sutherland, N.W. Scotland, 2005. (©Julian Calverley/Courtesy of the photographer).

Working exclusively in colour, he prefers the unpredictable weather of autumn or winter; when he works in that special fleeting light experienced just before dawn, or in that magical hour towards dusk, that result in his atmospheric photographs that are marked by a highly individual and distinct palette of muted tones and hues. In Passing Squall, The Sound of Taransay, Isle of Harris, 2011, we are presented with a landscape almost monochrome in nature, with what colour there is appearing to be physically absorbed by the crashing surf, or whisked away by the the harsh and bitterly cold winter winds. As the viewer looks on, the waves embrace the dark rocks that occupy the foreground, softening their sharp and brutal edges, whilst the roar of the sea pulsates and reverberates around his compositions, before finally pouring out of the frame and embracing the viewer.

His photographs ‘command a theatrical air,’ comments Jack Lowe who prints most of Calverley’s photographs, including the large-scale works that formed his first solo show at Gallery 1066 last month. ‘So wonderfully crafted, as if each facet to the image has been summoned into place at the click of a finger. It is this feeling of being there, experiencing nature and the elements in all their breathtaking glory that Julian conveys so effectively in his work. His tenacity in revisiting these locations enables the apparent orchestration of truly unique moments. In those moments, when the grandeur of the landscape combines unpredictably with the elements, the stage.’

Above Allt Coir’ A’ Mhadaidh, Glen Brittle, Isle Of Skye. View No. 2, 2011. (©Julian Calverley/Courtesy of the photographer).

An open expanse of moorland is held in the tight clutch of a storm as it passes over Loch Shin, Sutherland, in a photograph made in 2007. From the very heart of the storm a splinter of fresh brilliant light emerges, freeing the vivid green and yellow hues from the restrictive confines of the overpowering earthy browns that dominate the foreground, in the middle distance a slither of water appears like an opening through which we might glimpse sight of a new world. Here, as with Calverley’s other landscapes, we see a connection not of other photographers working in the landscape, but the influence of painters, such as Sidney Richard Percy and J. M. W. Turner, of who Calverley remarks, ‘I'm absolutely drawn to the energy in his work.’

In another of his powerful seascapes, The Sound of Taransay from Bagh Steinigidh, Isle of Harris, View No. 2, 2012; the sea is rendered deceptively passive by Calverley, as it swirls around the shattered rock strewn foreshore, like some mysterious and all consuming mist it temporarily envelopes the granite monoliths, before setting them free, albeit briefly, before it rushes forth once more, in an unquestioning demonstration of it’s raw and unbridled power.

Above The Cuillins From Glen Sligachan, Isle Of Skye, 2011. (©Julian Calverley/Courtesy of the photographer).

The Swiss philosopher Henri Frédéric Amiel (1821-1881) suggested that ‘Any landscape is a condition of the spirit,’ something that is omnipresent in Calverley’s oeuvre. An icy mountain stream cuts it’s way through a sea of granite boulders in The Cuillins from Glen Sligachan, Isle of Sky, 2011, it’s aqua hues contrasting with that of the burnt umber tones that stretch to the far horizon, where the Black Cuillins reach to the heavens, their sharp peaks dusted in soft white snow — like some fine piece of patisserie — whilst above, the ominous and brooding clouds appear to open, allowing the spirit of the peaks to reach ever higher. The thunder of a waterfall resonates throughout Allt Coir’ A’ Mhadaidh, Glen Brittle, Isle of Skye, 2009, as it’s purity springs fourth from a peaty mirth, cutting it’s way through the inhospitable landscape. In the background, the silent Cuillins sit patiently, guarding time, whilst seductively veiled in wafts of soft chiffon greys.

Above Passing Squall, The Sound Of Taransay, Isle Of Harris, 2011. (©Julian Calverley/Courtesy of the photographer).

To be fully understood, Calverley’s photographs must be experienced — not simply viewed — allowing the emotions and spirit that he captures so exquisitely, to leave their mark on the viewers soul. A narrow carpet of succulent green bisects a pine forest in Rosehall Forest, Near Lairg, Sutherland, N.W. Scotland, 2005. To either side of this corridor, the muted hues of the woodland floor is bathed in a hostile carpet of pine needles, the dense vertical trunks of the pines present an almost impenetrable wall revealing the briefest flirtation with the pale blue sky that lays beyond. In comparison to the grandeur of the seascapes, the forest landscape feels more humble, yet as with Calverley’s other photographs he reveals a quietly beautiful sonnet, that slowly gives up it’s inner voice; a place where one can meditate and reflect on what we are experiencing.

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Above Untitled, from Dead Traffic. (©Kim Thue/Courtesy of the photographer).

A decade after it finally came to an end, the west African state of Sierra Leone is slowly emerging from the shadow of it’s devastating and brutal civil war that ripped the country apart. It is a country that Danish-born, London-based photographer Kim Thue first travelled to document daily life as a Danish charity re-established a jungle hospital in the very heart of the country. However, he was to quickly realise that photographically he wasn’t ‘inventive enough to escape the stereotypical and self-perpetuating images of impoverished African’s,’ all to frequently fed to us by the worlds media. He says, everywhere I looked I saw images that seemed familiar to me, images of the malnourished child, of disease and poverty.’ Images that, rather sadly, he feels we have all largely become immune to.

As he stepped back from the scene before him and acknowledged the realities, Thue decided to travel to the capital city, Freetown; and begin what he terms ‘another kind of visual rummage.’ Arriving in the city not as a photographer but as a ‘traveler with a camera,’ he spent hours wandering the chaotic streets absorbing it’s atmosphere and looking to make some form of connection. Whilst taking the occasional photograph as he explored the city, Thue struggled to make the emotional connection he sought. Three weeks on, and with the growing sense of isolation, he says he was beginning to get lonely, when by chance he came across the suburb of Big Wharf — the largest of the cities slums — and it was here that things began to change. 

Above Untitled, from Dead Traffic. (©Kim Thue/Courtesy of the photographer).

‘I instantly sensed a different behavioural emphasis in the people that were there,’ he says, ‘a kind of immediacy and rawness that I was very attracted to.’ The people that he met here where young (the average life expectancy in Sierra Leone is just 48) angry and disillusioned with their own prospects of a better life. Many of those that had made their home in Big Wharf, had travelled from the countries rural areas in hope of finding that better life; but ultimately had fallen into a counterproductive lifestyle marked by crime, violence, prostitution and drug abuse. 

But in this community on the periphery of society, Thue says ‘I soon found strong echoes of myself within these people and I knew I had finally outlined a territory to explore’ and a project that he would be able to call his own, that would mark the beginning of what would become his first book, Dead Traffic — a title which takes it’s name from the words written in the red dust that had settled upon an abandoned car, and possibly stands as a metaphor for what Thue encountered around him  — made during the course of two visits that totalled ten months during which time he lived within the community of Big Wharf. 

Above Untitled, from Dead Traffic. (©Kim Thue/Courtesy of the photographer).

Working exclusively in black and white, Thue’s raw and powerful photographs document the everyday lives of those who live in Big Wharf, through a series of chance encounters. ‘D.A.R.E TO RESIST DRUGS AND VIOLENCE’ reads the t-shirt of a proud young man who makes direct eye contact with the photographers’ lens whilst proudly holding a large crucifix — a motif that appears frequently in Thue’s imagery; two women, one balancing a plastic bucket on her head, the other a basket of ripe pineapples, walk along one of Freetown’s dusty streets on their way to market, in the foreground, a man lies prostrate in the middle of the street whilst three small boys look on in bemusement; in another photograph a boy — no more than a child — looks up at the photographer from behind an oversized ski mask, if he were older his penetrating stare may be viewed as threatening, but as the knitted mask drapes down, consuming his young shoulders, it becomes something far lighter and simpler, a child at play.

‘What I hope to have created is something the viewer can tune into emotionally,’ says Thue, ‘Something that hits a nerve without being coercive in nature... A collection of images simply suggesting that the inextricable coexistence of beauty and dread is an ever present theme within this vigorous and inclement city.’ Met with warmth from those he encounter, the bald, blue-eyed Dane quickly acquired a string of nicknames, such as ‘Vin Diesel, ‘The White Gangster Journalist’ and ‘The Notorious K.I.M,’ his personal favourite. ‘It was all a kind of silly, but it felt affectionate and confirmed to me that their main reference point to the West had come from watching American music videos and reduplicated action films’ he says.

Above Untitled, from Dead Traffic. (©Kim Thue/Courtesy of the photographer).

Whilst the vast majority of the photographs in Dead Traffic depict life on the streets of Big Wharf, a few are more intimate as Thue gains trust he is welcomed into the private space of those that make their home there. One such image depicts, ‘Pay Day’ a young man who worked as Thue’s assistant and fixer reclining on his bed, his girlfriends head and torso obscured by her lower leg which occupies the foreground, her arm wrests on his muscular body, the cigarette she holds in her hand taking the viewers eye up through the frame to a crucifix mounted on the wall, the only decoration in the spartan living space. In another image a young woman leans back on her bed, her eyes closed, she runs her fingers through her long dark mane, whilst a tattooed male hand interrupts the composition as it reaches towards her ample breast. 

Against the backdrop of this documentary essay, Dead Traffic includes a series of exquisite portraits that are typological in nature. Each made against the backdrop of a wall marked by graffiti, the men all appear bare-chested, their taught bodies, stance and gaze oozing pride, many revealing elaborate tattoos; whilst the fashionable and beautiful young women are shown wearing bold prints or what one assumes are fake designer labels. 

Above Untitled, from Dead Traffic. (©Kim Thue/Courtesy of the photographer).

The Mexican, Graciela Iturbide once stated, ‘The unconscious obsession that we photographers have is that wherever we go we want to find the theme that we carry inside ourselves,’ a comment that Thue relates to, suggesting that Dead Traffic ‘reveals as much about my views and me as a person as it does about anything inside.’ 

The physical and emotional scars of Sierra Leone’s civil war are scattered throughout Thue’s photographs, but he does not focus upon the atrocities or the highly visible aftermath of war, that another kind of photographer may have been drawn too; instead what he reveals in Dead Traffic is everyday life on the streets of Freetown. There is little question that the life that Thue depicts is anything other than a struggle, but we also encounter in his photographs an emotional warmth and friendship that is underlined by hope.

Dead Traffic is published by Dienacht Publishing in a numbered edition of 1000.

Ropes and chains are tied around me, 
holding back who I long to be.

Locks are shut, I’ve lost the key,
just concentrating on breaking free.

On my own I feel so mad,
all my anger makes me sad.

They are trying so hard to help me.
I need to prove who I can be.

'Breaking Free' by Gemma Taylor

Above Untitled, from Hidden: alternative views from the streets of Blackpool. (©Ajmal/Courtesy of Streetlife/Open Art).

Streetlife is a small charity that offers invaluable support and shelter to young people (aged 16-25), who are homeless, have been homeless or are at risk of becoming homeless in and around Blackpool, through a series of drop-in sessions held at their day centre — The Base — and an emergency night shelter. In a collaborative partnership with Open Art, Streetlife recently undertook a project to encourage these young people to express themselves through photography and poetry, that resulted in the newspaper format publication, Hidden: alternative views from the streets of Blackpool. 

Under the mentorship of photographic artist Henry Iddon and The Wordsworth Trust’s poet in-residence Helen Mort, the publication — which is distributed free — brings together their photographs and poems, in a bold newspaper designed by Mark Lester of Mark Studio. 

Above Untitled, from Hidden: alternative views from the streets of Blackpool. (©Gemma Taylor/Courtesy of Streetlife/Open Art).

The Cycle

Lakes, rivers, oceans and seas.
Squirrels, birds and buzzing bees.
Walking around in the scorching sun,
sunbathing, just having fun.
Watching seasons pass like weather,
a curious sign from falling feather.

For superstition keeps me on top,
secure in comfort, not tied in a knot.
As the haze lifts from the asign youth
and all of wisdom, a flash of truth.

I’m just a young girl trying to say
I’m on the border of a brand new day.
That’s why I say about the seasons;
a challenging cycle that needs no reason.

Gemma Taylor’s beautifully composed poem The Cycle, sits opposite her gentle photograph of Blackpool’s beach, devoid of people, and under a bright sky, as the late afternoon sun glistens on the soft breakers. Whilst Gary Smith pairs his photograph of a lizard, depicted in vibrant hues of green, with his poem Lizard Smile.

Above Untitled, from Hidden: alternative views from the streets of Blackpool. (©Gary Smith/Courtesy of Streetlife/Open Art).

Lizard Smile

Look’s like he’s thinking
of past times running wild:
chasing food and relaxing in the real sun,
digging away in his burrow,
playing around with friends.

You gaze at his daft look
but with a glimmer of intelligence
almost as if to trick you, 
trick you into a false sense of security
in a bid to escape
and get back to the wild.

Then you notice it that sly smile,
like he is planning something
this making you curious...
curious to his plan,
then he seem’s to play it cool
with his sly lizard smile.

‘It’s harder than most people think to see what is actually in front of you — most people glance but don’t look,’ says Iddon, ‘What is wonderful about these images is that they show the young people’s ability to look carefully and observe the world around them — the subtle and quirky structures or features that are not given a second glance by those dashing around on their daily grind.’

Above Untitled, from Hidden: alternative views from the streets of Blackpool. (©Russell/Courtesy of Streetlife/Open Art).

Elsewhere in Hidden we see Ajmal’s photograph of a vernacular sign of a clown, a speach bubble stating, ‘SOMETHING FOR ALL THE FAMILY!’; the board walk of Blackpool’s famous pier is reduced to abstract form by Smith, where the central divides chains appear as a metaphor for the struggle that these young people are dealing with on a daily basis; Damo’s photograph of two zoo animals behind bars, and locked in a head-to-head battle, represents once again the daily battles of these young people; Russell's larger than life photograph of a pigeon, it’s scale overshadowing the runner on the beach below, is juxtaposed with Joe Casey’s poem, This Picture:

This picture,
watched a thousand times
but never seen,

captured in the blink of
and eye, a flash of lightning, 
and held, outside of time.

Streetlife’s Jane Hugo of is excited by the results achieved by the young artists, and believes that Hidden reveals huge potential for the future, ‘the medium of art is a fabulous tool to engage young people in exploring their hidden talents. This project has encouraged young people to produce some amazing pieces of real meaning.’

streetlife-blackpool.co.uk

Above Untitled, from Bone Lonely. (©Paulo Nozolino/Courtesy of Steidl).

Portuguese born photojournalist Paulo Nozolino holds a significant position in the world of European photography, yet to some — maybe the majority — his name may appear unfamiliar. In 1996 he published his first book, the critically acclaimed Penumbra (Scalo); a collection of pictures taken across Syria, Yemen, Jordan, Egypt and Mauritania, that as with his entire oeuvre are marked and ‘dominated by an impossible darkness’ that appears at impenetrable to light.

Almost a decade later, came Far Cry (Steidl, 2005). The photographs in this body of work were made all over the world — although most notably the countries of the Arab world — but in the majority of cases it would be difficult to attribute a specific location to them. Although ‘the photographs from Auschwitz are the decisive exception. Auschwitz appears as the absolute place and time that orientates everything else.’

Over the course of his three decade career, Nozolino has constantly intensified his tragic vision of reality: ‘this is visualised in pictures that originate from his own biography and travels; in pictures of men, women and children; in pictures of birth, love making and death.’ In Far Cry, he assembles from various projects, images which form a new narrative, untold until now: ‘the narrative of beginning and ending, and at the same time the narrative of his life’s work.’

Above Untitled, from Bone Lonely. (©Paulo Nozolino/Courtesy of Steidl).

This highly personal approach to photojournalism continues in two new volumes, Bone Lonely and Makulatur. In the first of these, Bone Lonely, we once again enter a world unsure of where or when these images where made — however, where they were made is largely unimportant — for what is important is what they depict, the aftermath and impact of global conflict; its pain and unnecessary loss.

Sandbags stacked tightly into a window space, leave the merest of opening into the outside world, a world scarred by savage conflict; in another image, two corpses lie in a mortuary, a vivid reminder of the senseless brutality of war; whilst a pair of handbags and two alarm clocks sit surreally on a tarpaulin on a war torn street, their owner selling what few possessions that remain, to pay for the daily necessities of life.

Here in the midst of want an destruction, ‘feeling lonely to an unbelievable point, bone lonely.’ Nozolino reflects on the unimaginable loss felt across the worlds zones of conflict; he wonders what ‘light’ shines in such loneliness, what sounds come out of a moving body, what can fill the absence. Yet he offers no answers, he only sees ‘silent panic, he hears reports on people, he smells the mould, he feels the flesh ageing and he tastes the dry saliva in his mouth. There seems to be no escape. He has a word pounding inside his head: resist, resist… bone lonely.’

Above Untitled, from Makulatur. (©Paulo Nozolino/Courtesy of Steidl).

‘My mother died one year, one month and one day after my father,’ writes Nozolino in Makulatur; a narrative construct that consists of twelve paired images, that form’s an ‘atmospheric and sincere response’ to their death. Here the photographer utilises a simple, but highly powerful visual symbolism, as he leads the viewer on a dark journey through his relationship to his parents death.

Juxtaposed with an image of a small white cross, three dressed skeletons stand silent; one of whom appears to make direct eye contact with the photographer lens. In another pairing, a woman reclines naked on a sofa — her face buried in dense shadow — her legs spread; whilst on the opposite page a male foot and ankle appear to suggest someone is kneeling above the woman opposite. The slashed cushion back of a chair symbolises the female vagina; whilst in contrast, a woman lies on a hospital bed, the last breath of life slowly leaning her body.

‘Smashed and decrepit, burning and ripped, the subjects swell with nuance,’ the vision of one of Europe's most distinct photographers, ‘providing an insight into Nozolino’s outlook on the destructive yet poetic nature of death.’

Bone Lonely and Makulatur, are both published by Steidl.