Exposición fotográfica | Almeria Idas y Venidas Del 21 al 27 de Abril: “Exposición IDAS Y VENIDAS” Imágenes de los almerienses que tuvieron que irse y de los que acaban de llegar. Carpa del Puerto (Junto al edificio de la Autoridad Portuaria) Fotos de: Las Idas La Asociación Almeriense de Inmigrantes Retornados (ASADER) se mostró entusiasmada con la idea desde el primer momento. Las fotografías, tomadas y cedidas por los propios emigrantes almerienses, nos muestran la vida cotidiana de esos cientos de miles de paisanos que tuvieron que vivir a miles de kilómetros la experiencia que hoy viven otros tantos al lado de nuestras casas. Las Venidas Hace ahora medio año, el Foro Social de Almería abrió un espacio en Flickr llamado “Revelados de Almería“, en él invitábamos a utilizar la fotografía como “arma cargada de futuro”. Allí descubrimos las fotos de John Perivolaris un excelente fotógrafo y una persona comprometida con los que sufren la globalización de la sobreexplotación y la miseria. Maribel Martinez, es otra asidua de “Rebelados”.
Azurebumble | Creative Library Coyas - Descendents of the Incas Luis Martin started his photography career in 1970. He is dedicated to documentary photography in his country. He lives in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Luis Martin's project chronicles the lives of the Coyas, people of the Andes mountains of South America, chiefly known for their oral tradition that has been preserved through the generations. Luis Martin began his project about the Coyas in 1990. "Many years later, I am returning to finish what I had started. "The life in these small villages, which are spread along the creek (hence the name "quebradeños"), is one of true cultural inheritance. "My first impression of this region was one of awe as, before this, I had never encountered a place with such richness of customs," says Martin. This first experience led Martin to visit Tilcara and its surrounding areas at least nine more times.
The United Nations of Photography | Where the informed, passionate and inquisitive meet. Where the new landscape of photography and filmmaking is discussed, questioned and debated. Where conversations inspire, inform and entertain. We are the United Natio Slide Show: Otsuchi, Japan, Three Years After the Tsunami Three years ago this week, Japan was ravaged by a 9.0 earthquake, the largest on record in the country’s history. The earthquake, centered under the seabed off Japan’s eastern coast, lasted for five minutes and launched a tsunami that was, in places, nearly thirty feet tall. The waves overtopped a seawall in Otsuchi, a small beach community near the northern tip of Honshu, Japan’s main island, flattening much of the town and causing its residents to seek refuge among the cemeteries in the nearby hills. The Argentine photographer Alejandro Chaskielberg visited Otsuchi earlier this year to photograph the wreckage that remains. Chaskielberg also shot photographs of a family album that had been severely waterlogged.
Street Level Japan So it Goes I was seventeen when I first came across the work of Bruce Davidson. I had inherited my father’s weather-beaten Leica M6 and possessed all but a passing interest in photography. Accustomed as I already was to the immediacy of digital photography, I spent close to a year getting to grips with the rigours of 35mm rangefinder cameras. Encouraged by the incremental progress, however, the passing interest in film photography and Leicas developed into a fixation. The change can be attributed almost entirely to the work of Magnum photographer Bruce Davidson and in particular his timelessly cool and graphically evocative series Brooklyn Gang. Davidson met ‘The Jokers’ when he was twenty-five and they were sixteen. Much as with the subjects in his other series East 100th Street or The Dwarf, Davidson remains unparalleled in his bringing the world of his subjects (in this case working-class, Catholic teens) to life with brutal cinematic immediacy.
Nova Photographia Documentary Photography in the Age of Anxiety: Fred Ritchin’s “Bending the Frame” We live in a period of anxiety, a time of deep uncertainty about the foundations and frameworks through which we make sense of life. It may have always been like this, but various faiths and philosophies work to convince us that there are guideposts and touch points around which we can orient our purpose and values. The philosopher Richard J. Bernstein, in his seminal 1983 book Beyond Objectivism and Relativism, coined the term “Cartesian Anxiety” for the generalised belief that we have lost even the pretence of secure reference points. As Bernstein argues (p. 19), we face “the growing apprehension that there may be nothing – not God, reason, philosophy, science, or poetry…that answers to and satisfies our longing for ultimate constraints, for a stable and reliable rock upon which we can secure our thought and action.” This Cartesian Anxiety manifests itself in multiple forms and different ways.