Nearly one decade ago, an adolescent zebra frolicked amongst the 8 thousand square kilometers that make up the Ngorongoro Conservation Area in Tanzania’s Crater Highlands. Staying close to the grown zebras, the energetic youngster moved wildly about, until at the very moment French photographer Laurent Baheux approached, he took the air, leaping clear over his mother’s back. The photographer tripped in the process of capturing the moment, which according to his driver Morris, was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of scenario.
Kelsy Gossett's Wake Up series documents a tepid space between living and sleep, punctuated by the confused, scared or vulnerable emotions of the people she is photographing. Kelsy photographs couples, individuals, and friends in their safest space of recuperation: their bed. The bedroom is political;, it is where the individual crafts their identity, cultivates a living space and plasters their personality. In Wake Up, Kelsy seeks to touch on these elements, but more importantly, capture the moment of intimacy that occurs between people after waking. The moment after waking could be dictated as the one where we, as a subject, are perhaps most vulnerable. Our emotions are often unsettled and somewhat altered by the dream lands we may have just been visiting.
Since 2001, Beijing-based photographer Hong Hao has been recording every single item that passes through his fingers over the course of each day, those he uses and those he discards. In a practice that he describes as a form of “bookkeeping,” he scans each object one by one, saves the images, and returns to them once more to weave them together into labyrinthine digital collages.
It’s no secret there’s a consistent lapse in recognizing the sexuality of people who have become known as “women of a certain age,” especially in the entertainment industry. French-born, Los Angeles-based photographer Marie Baronnet slaps that idea in the face, however, with her series Legends. For Legends, Baronnet photographed former burlesque performers, who are all between 65 and 90 years of age, in their homes, sometimes in their original costumes. The women who performed under names like Lottie the Body, Viva La Fever, and Bambi Jones are equal parts inviting and vulnerable in Baronnet’s images, much as they must have been onstage as performers. Through Baronnet’s images they are in the spotlight again, hair flying in the wind, sparkling beads hanging from their hips, lips and eyes painted into smouldering darkness.
For his series Wave Pacific, photographer Scott Hoyle captures that chaotic and sublime moment when two opposing forces simultaneously collide together in a burst of emotion. In stark black and white, each violent crash is unique in shape and form. The dark background in contrast with the whiteness of the wave indicates an absence of location and environmental reference. These waves could be anywhere.
For I Was Here, Paris-based photographer Ambroise Tézenas delves the practice of grief tourism (or dark tourism), a global phenomenon whereby sightseers are drawn to the scenes of mass tragedies, from the sites of genocides to those of natural disasters. Shedding the privileges normally afforded to members of the press, he chose to embark on the journey just as his fellow travelers did, paying for his own guided tours and uncovering in the process a network of sinister locales, bound together by the rapt attention they inspire in day-trippers young and old.
At twenty-six, Tucson-based photographer Shannon Smith had built for herself a life she never anticipated: she was an artist in her third year at graduate school and the mother of a one-year-old daughter, expecting the arrival of a son. Parenthood, and by extension, belonging to newly emerging family, was for her a kind of terra incognita, a curious landscape to be discovered through the eye of her camera. Doing It Domestic chronicles the daily rhythms of her household routine, tracing the push and pull and ultimately the reconciliation of her two roles as photographer and mother.