Andy Sewell

www.AndySewell.com

These photographs, from a work still in progress, are taken in the English countryside. I choose a place, sometimes for a specific reason, but more often guided by the poetics of village names (Cold Christmas, Nasty, Little Gidding, Good Easter, etc.) and explore from there. Driving and walking I search for pictures that speak of this iconic yet hard-to-define thing “the countryside” and the interplay of the ideas and feelings evoked by it: tradition and modernity, nostalgia, our relationship with nature and to what we eat, the underlying cycle of seasons and festivals.

The finished project will be a journey from one winter to another formed of the encounters between the countryside of my imagination and contemporary rural England.

Andy Sewell, London, United Kingdom

Susan Lipper

www.SusanLipper.com

It was only recently that I decided on a name for this series: Off Route 80. Before that the work done in Grapevine, West Virginia since 2006 was provisionally called New Landscapes. My reticence in giving the series a title stemmed from a desire to resist naming a specific place or region, in this case Appalachia — with its negative connotations dating back from before the Civil War. To do so would be declaring the work a documentary record –- which of course it is, albeit a highly-subjective one, belonging to a tradition where the artist admits to being part of the situation portrayed.

My 1994 monograph Grapevine is a visual diary of the first five years I spent in the community. Grapevine is a place I have revisited now for over twenty years, much like Eugene Atget’s parks. Central to the meaning here and in most of my work is that these photographs (and videos) share the vantage point of a liberal female artist from New York City who is contemplating the bigger fiction of America.

Perhaps Grapevine represents any American community outside the reach of urban life: a place in the imagination, an Eden, off-the-map, off-route as opposed to the notion of “getting one’s kicks on Route 66.”

The natural versus the urban world is the arching theme here. This series also draws upon the Romantic traditions of literature and painting which highlight our place in nature. In this seemingly-bucolic setting, the intimate, formal landscapes provide a sense of place but also hint at no return. While remaining in the here-and-now, possibly as a prisoner, one sees the lush, enveloping landscape in a new way.

Susan Lipper, New York City, USA

Miguel Vasconcelos

www.MiguelVasconcelos.com

Autopista (Freeway) is an ongoing project, the result of travel by road networks of the Iberian Peninsula from 2009 to the present.
Images are captured while traveling, shooting from inside the car. There is some noise in the pictures — blurriness which is purposeful and provides a record of ephemera.
This is a series of images that leads us to reflect on the passage of time and the boundary between memory and oblivion, the rural and urban, moments and events, figures, objects and places.

— Miguel Vasconcelos, Fafe, Portugal

Kerim Aytac

www.Kerim.co.uk

The commute is a relatively recent form of travel. Suburbia and exurbia ever-expanding into spaces designed to accommodate this transfer, the journey has become a formality. This project seeks to see through the eyes of the commuter and engage with the sense of loss his or her daily predicament engenders.

The commute is time lost; an ellipsis. No memoir, no matter how encyclopedic, would dare to record the minutiae of such a journey. By virtue of repetition, it ceases to register. The project approaches this concept in two ways: First, the images are still, absent in time, even when there is movement to record. Second, the spaces are timeless, from within the period of the commuter’s existence. All photographs were taken in “New Towns” around the M25 (the ring road surrounding greater London) — built in the 1950’s and 60’s to be autonomous, but eventually subsumed by the city’s overspill. Since the decline of modernity, this type of space has lost its historical specificity. It could be any time within the recent past; not old but not new. Frozen and timeless, therefore, the images resemble any memories we can hold onto from an experience so familiar.

The commute now takes place in spaces designed for its continued existence. They support its nature. In their aesthetic they encourage the journey’s seamless fall into non-memory. The project takes this aesthetic as the subject for its images.

— Kerim Aytac, London, United Kingdom

Peter Dixie

www.PeterDixie.com

These photographs, from the project Hinterland, show landscapes from the outskirts of Shanghai — the areas beyond the outer-terminal metro stations.

In each image there is some centrally-placed object, a space being constructed around this, and by drawing an ordinary object out of the landscape and elevating its status compositionally, it is given a significance that in passing perhaps it would not have. As an identified and preserved object, it is enshrined, withdrawn from its mundane original context, and recreated as an object of contemplation. Hence each image presents a site of contemplation.

The series deals with one city, Shanghai, but has relevance to the idea of the city in general — as event, as a complete historical entity with a finite life, as a bounded space. As with any event, its existence is discreet. This does not mean that limits exist in a clear sense. The boundaries of an event shift and break upon examination. This series looks beyond the city at what will be city, the becoming-city, the future-city.

It is a landscape of possibility.

— Peter Dixie, Shanghai, China

Thomas Locke Hobbs

www.ThomasLockeHobbs.com

Buenos Aires was founded, twice, on a small bluff not far from where the Paraná and Uruguay rivers enter into a broad estuary called the Rio de la Plata. Hundreds of miles of flat pampas give way, rather undramatically, to a small slope, about 30 feet in height, below which sits the river. After living in Buenos Aires for about two years, the flatness of the city, the impossibility of having a vista or a perspective from which to orient oneself, began to feel oppressive. I started taking pictures around the one, small topographical feature present in the city: the brief slant of the barely perceptible riverbank, or barranca.
Residents of Buenos Aires say the city turns its back on the river. Indeed, centuries of landfill have pushed the present-day edge of the river so far from its original banks that standing at any point on the riverbank, the river itself is never visible. What is visible are the markings of Argentina’s history: the lavish parks built in the 19th century, the seat of government, the bullet-scared façade of a government ministry, the site of a clandestine torture center run during the last military dictatorship, murals for candidates, a monument to a lost war, graffiti for recently a deceased ex-president, an elevated highway constructed for the World Cup and so on.
The photos in this work are ordered by their geographical location, from north to south, starting with the Avenida General Paz, which marks the northern limit of the Federal Capital district of Buenos Aires and then continuing southward until Parque Lezama, in the southern part of the city.

— Thomas Locke Hobbs, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Marna Bell

www.MarnaBell.com

My many trips back home to New York City on the train have helped me to remember lost pieces of time where life seemed simpler and less veiled. By revisiting the same landscapes in different seasons and under different weather conditions I was able to capture the past before it disappeared. As a painter and now as a photographer I have been drawn to the meditative quality of the Hudson River and the sacred aspects of the natural environment. This series is reminiscent of a more romantic era, when God and Nature were viewed as one.

— Marna Bell, Syracuse, NY, USA

Koichi Nishiyama

www.KoichiNishiyama.com

There was a forest near the house where I lived when I was a child. When the forest existed, I felt a connection with a deep part of the world there. However, the forest was destroyed a long time ago, and only the process of the loss and its memory were kept in my mind.

I am now living in a place which is a little distant from there. When I look at the scenery in the periphery of the city where I live, I can see a new contemporary scenery which overlaps with the past scenery.

I keep walking and roaming around the place until it leads me to my destination. And the subdued light is shining on the space which illuminates my memory in the past. At that time I realize that I can regain the connection with the world.

— Koichi Nishiyama, Tokyo, Japan

Neal Johnson

www.NealParkerJohnson.com

My body of work, entitled Please Pay Here, is a project documenting the landscape and design of urban parking infrastructure — from a single layer of yellow-striped asphalt to multi-level concrete enclosures.  It’s about the domination of urban space — a necessity of design and planning.

My photographs are taken mainly at night or after hours, when the working commuters abandon their parking stations and leave behind an empty and hollowed garage. It’s at this time that the cubed stacks of concrete layers begin to come alive. The loneliness of the empty spaces exposes the ambient entrails and cast shadows of the memories of the workday.

— Neal Johnson, Louisville, Kentucky, USA

Martijn Oostra

www.MartijnOostra.com

I work as a graphic designer, photographer, artist and publicist. My projects vary from video art to type design. There’s a continuous thread in all my activities, whether it’s a graphic design or an article that I wrote: It’s made with the tools by which I communicate. I find my tools in the media or in public areas (the street). They show how daily life is coded. What is banal in one context becomes meaningful in another. I am always looking for the beauty in triviality, but my work does have meaning. It’s about what surrounds us. I look for the details that say as much as the whole — and sometimes more.

— Martijn Oostra, Amsterdam, The Netherlands