“Our hope is in the dark around the edges, not in the limelight of center stage. 
Our hope and often our power.”
from ‘Hope in the Dark’ by Rebecca Solnit

They say that the origin of the name “Ukraine” is derived from the Proto-Slavic word for “Edge”. 
While looking at Christopher Nunn’s work, it feels to me as if the journey around the edge is an important element to his ongoing photography project in Ukraine.

Christopher’s grandmother was born in Ukraine, displaced by World War II to Germany and eventually England, and began to suffer from Alzheimer’s disease in 2013. As the edges of her memory started to fray, weakening the thread that is supposed to hold everything together, Christopher tried to find a way to remain connected to her by learning more about the place she was born in. 
He traveled to her birthplace Kalush and from there, started exploring regions across west and east Ukraine over repeated trips- forming important relationships and connections along the way.

What started as a personal journey to the edges of his own family history, developed into an ongoing series about the people and places in Ukraine’s fragile east. When political chaos, revolution and war started to unfold in 2014, the global media machine and photojournalism industry focused solely on the conflict. It became increasingly important for Christopher to also show a more subtle, domestic and human side and he took a quieter look at the periphery of these events.

Nunn’s images are often framed by themes of friendship, escapism, unity, alcohol and faith- they are small stories that are part of a larger picture, they are stories about being human.
In an interview with Michael Segalov from Huck magazine, Christopher Nunn said:
“You have to take time to understand where you are, and the context of what’s going on.
I think ultimately what I was doing subconsciously, was trying to show a more human side of a place that I felt really connected to, 
despite it being in our consciousness because of war.”

Ukraine is the largest country in Europe and will have elections again tomorrow.
The people of Ukraine are neither defined by borders nor by conflict.
Maybe they are better defined by the stories that are born on the edges, small stories and unexpected moments of connection- like the ones that Christopher Nunn captures so poignantly in his photography.
May these stories glisten as hopeful as the beautiful boys from Kurakhovo, Donetsk in the summer of 2015.

Thank you for sharing them, Christopher Nunn.


* all photographs copyright ©Christopher Nunn, click to enlarge.
Follow Chris on Instagram @chrisnunnphoto and visit his website at http://www.christophernunn.co.uk/ to see more of his striking work. 

Noguchi’s gifts

In the introduction to his series ‘One Two Three’, Japanese photographer Shin Noguchi shares a quote by the late Jazz Saxophonist Eric Dolphy:
“When you hear music, after it's over, it's gone in the air. You can never capture it again."

After his father passed away and long forgotten photos from his own childhood reappeared, Noguchi began photographing his three young daughters Yumeji, Kotoyo and Hikono.
The ongoing project started as a careful attempt to ease his mother’s loneliness and to spend more time communicating with his children, while strengthening their self esteem in the process.

‘One Two Three’ shows us intimate, funny and touchingly tender moments. Brief moments, that Noguchi himself describes as gifts his daughters show to him. Gifts which he can’t help but “catch” once they appear. And to intuitively click the shutter at the exáct right moment..well, this feels to him like hearing the magical but fleeting Jazz improvisations Dolphy was talking about.

Earlier today, as I looked up Eric Dolphy’s original quote, I found it to be just a little longer. It turns out that Dolphy had spoken additional words: 
“...But if you listen closely, you can still hear the echoes.”
To me, it’s in these hidden words that lies the core of Noguchi’s work.
He enables us to perceive the rare echo of truly beautiful and ephemeral moments.
They are the echoes of a feeling.
And this is a feeling that Shin Noguchi might have very well described when he said:
“I never called my photography ‘art’, but definitely, my daughters show me what I feel art to be.”

Thank you Mister Noguchi!


* all photographs copyright ©Shin Noguchi, click to enlarge.
Please have a look at Shin Noguchi’s impressive and moving body of work here:

Wandering, Wondering

Jonathan Bensimon is a Director and Cinematographer, that decided to go back to his old twin-lens Rolleiflex in 2015.
As a framework for himself, he made up a small set of rules and started the Chromasketch Project.

Always bring the Rolleiflex.
Shoot one roll of slide film, each week.
This means 12 images and hardly to no post production.
At the end of each year, share the giant contact sheet, to expose all photographs next to each other.

What I love and respect about Jonathan Bensimon’s filmmaking background, is that it made him a true storyteller. By showing us just one still image, he invites us on a much longer imaginary journey.

This first photograph is my favourite from the series and today, it made my thoughts wander...Looking at this lady with the dark hair and flowery dress, at the softness of her exposed back and that tiny rose- I’m curious where she is going, in that big city. Is she on a mission to give or to forgive, to celebrate or to create?

Thank you for making me wonder, Jonathan.


* all photographs copyright ©Jonathan Bensimon, click to enlarge
Please have a look at more of Jonathan Bensimon’s work here:


“When my mother and my grandmother would be parting at the end of the day, they always kissed. And they kissed on the lips, so that was very outstanding to me- something significant. I remember once, my mother was yelling my name...I was somewhere else, down the hall and they were about to say goodbye with a kiss and she knew I liked to photograph that, so she was calling me!”
- Arlene Gottfried

Mommie Kissing Bubbie, from the book Sometimes Overwhelming.

Mommie Kissing Bubbie, from the book Sometimes Overwhelming.

The way in which Arlene Gottfried has captured so many beautiful strangers on the streets, shows how bright and curious her eyes, and how open and warm her heart must have been.
But those pictures are for another day.

Today is for the intensely intimate photographs she made of the strongest and most important women in her life; her grandmother, mother and sister. “Mommie” is a portrait of these three generations of inseparable women, taken over the stunning course of 35 years and through the eyes of a daughter that loves them unconditionally. The pictures are so honest, pure and tender, that we can almost feel the strength of their bond.
Although life isn’t gentle to these ladies, they sure are gentle and loving to each other.

In Arlene’s own words about the series, “Part of it was trying to stop time...which of course, I couldn’t do.
With “Mommie” she does however show us beauty in the ordinary, offers comfort through the pain and vulnerability of illness and ageing, and leaves us with hope for the future.

On this loving journey through time, we meet Arlene’s breathtaking grandmother- Minnie "Bubbie" Zimmerman, who was born in Odessa in 1897, came to the US all by herself at 14 years of age and lived to be 104 years old. She looks so lively, sweet and cheeky and it moves me to slowly notice her posture change, the frailty of her naked knees and her thinning arms.
Mommie Lilian has such a beautiful and strong sparkle in her younger eyes, but also has a fragile health and as she gets older, her suffering from diabetes deepens. The photographs show the ever increasing pain in her face, as well as the compassion and care in the expressions of those that surround her.
And sister Karen, is so obviously adored by young Arlene that it’s simply heartwarming. Over and again she catches her when looking her best, happiest and prettiest. As time passes, Karen even seems less reluctant to be photographed, while she now grows older and becomes a loving caregiver.
We follow the women through their lives together and ultimately through their separation by illness and death.
Bubbie and Mommie pass away close in time, leaving an empty house behind.
…We pause.
Then, although Karen doesn’t seem to be quite that young anymore, she gives birth to little baby Graham.
And while her eyes still show traces of grief, new life will gently ease the pain of loss.
A new generation has begun.

What touches me, is that the technical perfection of the photo’s always takes the backseat and intimacy comes first.
Because the pictures might not be technically perfect, but life isn't either.
Sometimes life shakes, blurs of blind us and we just don’t always remain well composed or have enough time to quickly adjust our focus.
Perhaps “Mommie” shows us, that in a way the best we can do, is to keep looking with a curious eye and a tender heart and to lovingly bear witness to one another.
We can’t stop time, but we can walk each other home.
And we can always, always leave with a kiss.


* all photographs copyright ©Arlene Gottfried, click to enlarge

Tuned in the key of melancholy

‘When I first met Dave Heath in the ’70s he struck me as the only human being I’d ever met whose vocal cords were tuned in the key of melancholy.’ 
- Michael Torosian 

Philadelphia Born photographer Dave Heath, was abandoned by both of his parents at a very young age and spent his childhood in orphanages and foster homes. The emotional trauma of this loss, inspired in him what Heath himself called “a need of joining the community of mankind”- a yearning for human connection.

He looked at the people around him with extraordinary sensibility and attention, observing not voyeuristically but with deep empathy and respect, almost as if reaching out to them through the lens of his camera. Within the multitude of a crowd, Heath seemed to instinctively be able to spot and capture intimate, vulnerable moments of solitude. As there is rarely any contact between the photographer and subject, the connection remains forever one way- existing solely within the image, infusing it with a sense of longing and tenderness.
It is through this feeling, that we connect with these strangers and feel like we see our own deepest moments of isolation, uncertainty, beauty or hurt reflected in their faces and bodies.

Dave Heath’s incredibly sincere photographs remind us, that at a deeper level we are all connected.
Dave Heath reminds us, that we are resilient.

Heath's photographs are quietly beautiful and remarkably hopeful and I look at them while sitting in momentarily solitude too, with words by Cheryl Strayed on my mind:
“Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. 
Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. 
Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. 
Acceptance is a small, quiet room.”


* all photographs copyright ©Dave Heath, click to enlarge

Treasure Hunting

Photographer Peter Byrne found a true treasure at a car boot sale in York...
A box full of slides, taken by a couple living in New York during the 1950’s. 
Only one of the slide boxes had a name on it: “Frank J Dominick”.
But each picture tells an entire story. 
The boys and their turtle is my absolute favourite.
More from the amazing find below (click to see full size) and on Peters Blog: https://peterbyrne.co.uk/category/found/


Claude Nori

French photographer Claude Nori has an ongoing love affair with Italy.
And so do I.
Mister Nori decided to make a lovely book about it, a book about the sweetest “dolce far niente” on the Italian coast. 
The photographs, taken in the 80s and 90s almost make you taste the salt, feel the sun, hear the Vespa’s.

Dream Away

“She pinched my butt, and that was that”- words that photographer Michael Northrup spoke about meeting his former wife and muse Pam, in 1976.
Michaels book ‘Dream Away’ is a document of their relationship- in all of its curious, sexy, beautiful, intimate, gentle and dramatic glory.
The marriage has long ended.
But the memory remains, in the tender and colourful melancholy of this wonderful tribute to a Love lost.