These photographs are part of a series entitled Alone Together, which tells the story of the expansion of Highway 69 in Ontario, Canada.
I have been travelling along Highway 69 for as long as I can remember. As a child, the highway served as a memorable – if otherwise predictable – stretch of road during family trips down to Southern Ontario. Today, I use Highway 69 for much the same reason, but travel in the opposite direction. Since living in Toronto, Ontario, my trips along 69 are now “up north,” and while the road still steers me towards my destination, today, it is far from the predictable stretch of highway experienced in my youth.
For more than a decade, Highway 69 has been undergoing a systematic expansion and widening from a two-lane highway to a full four-lane freeway. Alone Together looks at the natural, economic, social and cultural challenges faced in trying to expand a 75-year old highway along which both communities and nature have long settled. The series imparts views on the physical effects of the expansion on the environment and landscape, the economic effects on small municipalities, villages and First Nation Communities, and the social effects on both the local residents of these places and those that pass through them.
– Jason Brown, Toronto, Canada
Hey Charlie is a celebration of over fifty years of Harry Cory Wright’s involvement with a particular bend in a river and the field beside it. These joyful images are the culmination of a lifetime of experience of the place in which he grew up and to which he has stayed connected throughout his life.
The sense of the impulsive, and indeed mischief, is reflected in the title. Cory Wright calls his brother’s name — a child’s shout, an adult’s beckoning — to coax him into causing a stir in a place they know so well. They are allowed once again to be little gods. They create interruptions in the otherwise placid landscape; set off rockets into an evening sky; peer inquisitively into a haze of smoke creeping around a river bend. These striking and transient impulses, and the photographs in which they are captured, were intended to shake off the burden of the past and of nostalgia, and to provoke the making of new memories; to re-imagine, reshape and reawaken a much-loved place.
— Susannah Haworth, London
I’m only interested in what is here now,
and not in some theoretical abstract sense,
but in the most simple and direct way:
What is actual in the experience of this moment?
What is not conceptual?
And the reason for this is that I don’t have the feeling
that we have time. This is why I don’t want to waste any time
talking about the past or the future.
So what is here now that doesn’t belong to any story,
that is not a property of time?
— Alexis Vasilikos, Athens, Greece
I’m interested in exploring the possibilities of the medium as a way to represent the passage of time and the changes in the landscape. I am very attracted by the power of photography to explain a concept without forgetting its evocative nature.
In Re-photographing Barcelona with Google Street View I intend to confront two archives of images. One historic, material and formed by the photographs taken by known photographers who have worked in the streets of Barcelona and on the other side another image archive, without authorship, immaterial and constantly updated.
As a result of overlapping both archives, we can show easily the evolution of a city and its history, the changes can be viewed more illustrative, but also represents a confrontation between the analog and digital photography.
— Pedro Arroyo, Barcelona, Spain
Point your eye to the ground. Look carefully through the leaves, then you see some other color, a different color… a man-made color.
Camouflage is a ongoing series that explores man-made little artifacts mixed in the landscape. How long they’re there we do not know, and it doesn’t matter, because they’re already part of nature.
— Paulo Ayres, São Paulo, Brazil