Thanatophobia, or the human fear of death, is overweighted by the sense of belonging. The notion of homeland or home with its greater form (geographical or emotional). The word nostos is leading us to the creation of the word nostalgia. The ache of nostos. The pain of return. The defeat of death. But if the home is not defined then nostos is continuous and painful.
— Ioanna Chronopoulou, Athens, Greece
This series is a fictional, non-linear narrative that deals with notions of romance, a geographical stopping point, dystopian landscapes and Ancient Egyptian beliefs in the afterlife.
— Justin Clifford Rhody, Oakland, California, USA
I was asked to participate in a group show for emerging photographic artists in Melbourne, Australia. The working title for the show was: In Flux. I have included the conceptual brief below:
With a focus on calm states and the notion of being in flux this exhibition will involve work that allows for meditation and melancholy, a patient and experiential based collection that will encourage visitors to linger in the sensations of each work. The exhibition will give attention to water, movement, the notion of being fluid and the importance of breath.
I’m the House-Dude. The Stay-At-Home Dad. These days jumping in the car with a 3 year old and a bag full of camera gear isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do. Kiss goodbye to any thoughts of quiet artistic pursuits. So these works were made with found materials and in still life tradition, assembled on the kitchen table close to the TV and Peppa Pig.
The initial interest for me within the In Flux theme was the depiction of “stillness” in a landscape context.
Ikebana, Sumi-e ink painting and turn of the century portraiture were the main influences. I was also interested in the traditional presentation of Chinese scroll paintings and the tokonoma viewing space.
These works continue my fascination for landscape. They remind that geology and flora are In constant evolutionary Flux.
Cultural shifts add to the Flux with the tree pictured (with needle like leaves) known by indigenous people as the Wayetuk or Gneering tree and most recently as the Drooping She-oak.
These images are for me unexpectedly autobiographical and simply represent that quiet space, somewhere away from Peppa Pig.
— Mat Hughes, Melbourne, Australia
I am primarily interested in documenting the everyday world around me, with a particular interest in landscapes featuring human interventions that visually activate their surroundings in strangely compelling ways. I am drawn to spaces that convey surreal or fictitious narratives, fortuitously photogenic environments that I try to carefully document rather than photographically exaggerate. Some of my work also explores the notion of place in the context of my dual citizenship of Australia and the UK. Often my Australian landscapes are shot under the soft light of overcast days, conditions more in keeping with my younger days in England – the muted tones portray an evenly balanced sense of place: an Australian scene with an “English” sky. Occasionally I will throw all of the above out of the window and experiment with something new.
— Chris Round, Sydney, Australia
Once Upon a Time on the Island of the Minotaur
Crete’s strategic location exposed the island to siege and piracy continuously during the centuries. This fact pushed local people to the mountainous interior of the island to protect themselves from the pirates’ assaults across the seaside.
More or less until the 1970’s, when tourism appeared here, the Cretans’ character, life and customs were much more related to the mountains rather than the sea. These photos are a kind of observation at the dyadic nature of the Minotaur’s island, this key-shaped mountain that was planted in the Mediterranean sea.
— Charalampos Kydonakis, Rethymnon, Crete, Greece
Welcome Guests is a series that I made between 2012 and 2013, which were the years that I lived in America for the first and the second time.
It’s a collection of pictures I took around the United States: documents and letters that I found and things that were given to me and I always had while I was traveling, such as a picture of Death Valley in California and a note that reminded me that I was really far away from home — or its concept.
It was mostly a way for me to play with photography, while I was working on my series Something is Missing, using an iPhone, 35mm cameras and a digital one. I was trying to work on feelings and emotions related to the instability of the act of always moving and the chaos of unsettled situations.
The experience you are suppose to have with these series is a sense of confusion and dislocation, through a representation of mundane and banal actions and experiences: there is a picture of a man cutting the grass, people who walks their dogs, a picture of a cup of coffee, one of a diner, a scanning of a picture of a typical American family house.
— Eleonora Agostini, Venice, Italy
Between June 2006 and June 2012 I returned to live in Gran Canaria, in the Canary Islands, where I had spent my childhood. I found myself living in the Medianías, an area with ancient agricultural tradition and where part of my upbringing took place. Each farmland had at least one pond or reservoir to capture rainwater for irrigation. Most of them are now obsolete, abandoned and highly dilapidated by the passage of time, bacterial action and weather conditions.
From the outside they are just ugly, functionally built structures. But peer inside and you will find these hidden landscapes: locked up lakes, frozen fjords, jungles, fortresses, meadows, forests… breathtaking beauty concealed to all behind their rough outer shell. A contained territory within another territory.
To me they are imaginary lands, psychological landscapes, projections and reflections of my own state of mind.
— Marisa Culatto, Hertford, United Kingdom
Land of Smiles is a quiet, surreal exploration of Thailand’s everyday architecture and landscapes.
I have spent a considerable amount of time in Thailand over the past five or so years (my wife is from Bangkok). Still, I remain an outsider and am fascinated by many aspects of the landscape that most Thais would never think twice about. The images featured here focus on the accidentally sculptural fluorescent bulb streetlights and nightscapes of rural Thailand.
Land of Smiles takes you on a walking tour in a dream-state. This is Thailand as few people will ever see it (especially in light of the political turmoil and chaos of the past decade).
— Chris Mottalini, Brooklyn, New York, USA
This series of photographs is born from my need to grant myself some moments in which to get out and explore the landscape in solitude for a few hours. Without a planned route or a clear destination, but with only the need for isolation and taking pictures, I always return to the same places over and over again by establishing a special relationship with them like a personal microcosm. The exploration and the relationship between place and memory become fundamental elements in the formation of a personal identity. The explored landscape is where I was born, grew up and in which I live: a part of the Padan Plains that extend from the countryside of “la bassa” (low plain) to the right banks of the River Po. In order to describe the different areas of land, I have adopted a distinctive look for each one. In the countryside I used tobacco sunset filters and as I get closer to the river the photos turn to a yellow-green color.
— Franco Monari, Modena, Italy
Unborn Cities is a body of work that explores the architectural structures and physical growth of new cities located in inner-mainland China. Unlike many Western cities that begin as small developments and grow in accordance to the local industries, gathering community and history as they age, these areas are built to the point of near completion before introducing people. Because of this, there is an interim period between the final phases of development and when the areas become noticeably populated, during which many of the buildings stand empty, waiting.
During this phase of development, sensationalist Western media often describes these areas as defunct “ghost cities,” which fails to recognize that they are built on an urban model, timeline, and scale that is unprecedented in speculation and simply unfamiliar to the methods of Western urbanization. Using large-scale photographs that look at the architecture and sites of development within these cities and “new areas,” I emphasize both the vast growth and physical scale of these spaces, making enigmatic images that reflect the shifted sense of reality felt in a city that has yet to be inhabited by the people it was built for; a city without a city (有城⽆市) that, at present, seems more like an architectural model than a place for living.
— Kai M. Caemmerer, Chicago, Illinois, USA
This is a story of Aberdeen, a personal and subjective impression of this northern city. Bounded by two river mouths, the North Sea and vast green stretches of land, it is often described as the Granite City, though others say it is silver. It is also the energy capital of Europe. The label I feel is the most accurate is the ‘Grey City’. A ubiquitous landscape has been created by the silver granite and a matching sky: this evokes an atmosphere of gloom. I cannot see the glamour as described by others; what I am attracted to are the things that are seemingly commonplace, things which many may see as unimportant and mundane. The silver remains but is becoming stained, a patina encroaching. I am an outsider and I see it as an outsider will, free from nostalgia, raw.
— Blazej Marczak, Aberdeen, Scotland
Consciousness is the key to escape geographical confinement. When one has no place, but permeates the Universe, the concepts of near and far away disappear.
Curiously, if we join the words “now” and “here”, the two pillars of the state of consciousness, we form the word “nowhere.”
— Angela Sairaf, Madrid, Spain
Hamburg, Pennsylvania, USA
I use photography to document the ambiguity of preconceived ideas versus the expectation of the viewer. I am primarily interested in the construction of narrative, the autobiographical tendency of the medium and dualities.
Milan New Mexico is an ongoing series that explores the phenomenon of North American towns using borrowed names from other cities of the world. This project uses photography, research and mapping to explore the connection between these new cities as well as their relationship with preconceived notions concerning their esthetic, North American culture and biculturalism. As a Canadian-Italian, this body of work allows to interrogate my own sense of belonging and bicultural identity. These towns can be seen as a metaphor for the children of immigrants. There is a parallel between how we perceived these individuals and our expectations of these towns. Similarly this project examines how we expect and project certain cultural elements based on their provenance. How did these hundreds of towns appear all across North America? What connection can be drawn between these cities? How are expectations of specific cultures shaped? How does this play in a broader sense of stereotyping visual cultural identity? How do these images shape our understanding of North American spaces?
— Frederic Bigras-Burrogano, Banff, Alberta, Canada
Bristol, Georgia, USA
Milan, New Mexico, USA
New Orleans, Louisiana, USA
Acting as a mirror in the sky, the remote-sensing satellite allows us to observe the unprecedented growth of humanity and to appreciate the complex systems of the natural world. It reflects the immense power that people, whether in the form of governments or corporations, have over land. From international boundary lines, to visible signs of climate change, the endless spans of industrial agriculture or the deforestation of almost entire continents; it is beautiful and terrifying in its immensity.
The satellite image presents a pivotal opportunity for change as it prompts us to see and approach our problems and solutions in a new way. Looking down upon ourselves the satellite allows us to be conscious of our actions as never before.
The raw image data for these satellite images are downloaded from NASA’s Landsat 8 satellite. I combine several different grey scale images together to create a false color image. The images in this series represent some of the world’s most geopolitically controversial areas. A written story accompanies each image in the gallery installation and can be read on my website.
— Jeremy J. Starn, Barkhamsted, Connecticut, USA
Las Vegas, Nevada, USA
“Man has lost the capacity to foresee and to forestall. He will end by destroying the earth.’’
— Albert Schweitzer
The argument of nature’s resource exploitation and excavation, as well as the destruction and environmental devastation of landscapes, has long been one of high concern. However the environmental effects of this are not always so visible or apparent. The power of images has proven itself many times, through either activism or conservation photography in the style of photojournalism or documentation. Photography influences the viewer’s mind and teaches about the issues presented in the image — it is the idea that it portrays something real and therefore true, and inherently has the ability to document a perceived reality.
The series Iceland is a prime example of the type of landscape documentary that is so fundamental to raising awareness about environmental degradation. Iceland is one of the fastest-warming places on the planet. The glaciers that cover more than 10 percent of the island are losing an average of 11 billion tons of ice a year.
Driving around the south coast of Iceland, I have witnessed the immense retreat of glaciers, revealing only gravel for miles, creating a different kind of landscape: new black lava cliffs. Climate change is heavily affecting Iceland as it is rising due to the accelerated melting of ice caps, resulting in the uplifting from the Earth at a rate of up to 1.4 inches per year, causing more and more volcanic eruptions.
Through photographic documentation, I hope to reveal the immense beauty that is Iceland, so unique and other worldly, to raise awareness for this diminishing and ever-changing country.
— Elena Cremona, London