Combining photo exhibitions, outdoor photo installations, talks, workshops, and night-time multimedia projections, PHOTOVILLE welcomed 58,000 visitors during its sophomore year in 2013 and is projected to reach over 80,000 visitors in 2014. PHOTOVILLE will also coincide and partner with the DUMBO Arts Festival, The Brooklyn Book Festival and the Atlantic Antic in Brooklyn!
By creating a physical platform for photographers of all stripes to come together and interact, Photoville provides a unique opportunity to engage with a diverse, yet uniquely targeted audience – a veritable cross-section of the world photographic community.
Immersion and interactivity are at the heart of what makes Photoville such a successful and popular event – allowing it to become the largest annual photographic event in New York City, and among the most-attended photographic events nationwide in its second year. (Photoville.com)
PHOTOVILLE in Brooklyn Bridge Park runs from September 18 - 28, 2014 (Photos by Josh Haner/The New York Times, Teun Voeten, Stanley Greene/NOOR, Nema Etebar)
Contributing to FAMELESS can lead you to think of things in a different perspective and can be a reference for new opportunities. Your peers read FAMELESS, and they’ll see your work published in a fresh new forum, and many will visit your endorsements. Share your world.
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Installation for our Pratt Photography Alumni Exhibition has begun! The show will open this Saturday for alumni weekend, and a closing event will be held on October 2nd! Make sure to stop by the East Hall Gallery on Pratt Institutes Brooklyn campus to see the work of some amazing alums. ( Pictured is the work of #LoisConner #DeborahSeidman and @ryanoskin ) (at East Hall Gallery, Pratt Institute Campus)
The story of the street photographer Vivian Maier has always been tangled — she worked much of her life as a nanny, keeping her artistic life a secret, and only after she died in 2009, at the age of 83, nearly penniless and with no family, were her pictures declared to be among the most remarkable of the 20th century. Now a court case in Chicago seeking to name a previously unknown heir is threatening to tie her legacy in knots and could prevent her work from being seen again for years.
A legal battle over the work of Vivian Maier could hide her work away for years. A lawyer, David C. Deal, found a cousin of Maier’s from France and claims that Maier’s copyrights and work should belong to her next of kin. Currently, John Maloof owns a majority of Maier’s work, after discovering thousands of negatives in an auction years ago. Maloof has worked tirelessly to get recognition for Maier’s work and invested his own money into showing her work at museums and galleries. But Deal believes that proper ownership should go to Maier’s family. Legal battles can take years to be resolved in court and Maier’s work may be hidden away during that time.
From early examples of books by Edward Steichen, to publications by Alec Soth and Tierney Gearon, photobooks for children are not a new phenomenon. Last year, The British Journal of Photography featured a report on a new wave of childrens’ books. It identified that, although children are engaging with the language of photography at an increasingly young age, it may be a difficult medium to use for the making of childrens’ books, as such publications encourage young readers to use their imaginations to build stories, and photography cannot escape its indexical or direct link to the world of fact. With this in mind, it is clear photography needs to be employed by childrens’ book makers in engaging and creative ways, teaching children not just to look at images but how to read them too, be them factual or fictional. Enter Jason Fulford. His typically playful approach to image-making has seen him create books that are puzzles; books that play with word association and books that invite us to solve visual conundrums. In This Equals That – his new book for children made in collaboration with graphic designer Tamara Shopsin and published by Aperture Foundation – he works with a similar formula. The clever pairing of images build a small encyclopaedia of visual associations and equations, and encourage readers to think about number, shape and colour and the lovely ways in which fragments of the world mirror each other and slot together. Though made as a childrens’ book, This Equals That is a puzzle that we can take pleasure in solving at any age, as we consider how the colours of flowers reflect those in stained glass windows, or the curve of an orange relates to a small hole in the sand. (via This Equals That: Jason Fulford and Tamara Shopsin | BLOG - The Photographers’ Gallery)
The Pratt Photography Lectures inaugurates its 2014-2015 season with an evening focusing on the life and work of photographer Garry Winogrand. Curator John Szarkowski famously called Winogrand “the central photographer of his generation.” The event at Pratt Institute coincides with a major retrospective, Garry Winogrand, on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art through September 21.
The evening will feature a keynote lecture by photographer and essayist Leo Rubinfien, entitled “The Reasons for Winogrand.” Rubinfien, the curator of Garry Winogrand, and the editor of the exhibition catalogue, is former protégé of Winogrand’s. His lecture will be followed by responses from and, a conversation with, three individuals who knew Winogrand during his lifetime: Jeff L. Rosenheim, Curator in Charge of the Department of Photography at The Metropolitan Museum of Art; Susan Kismaric, former curator of photography at the Museum of Modern Art; and Thomas Roma, photographer and Director of Photography at Columbia University. Photography Chair Stephen Hilger, will moderate the conversation, which will include a Q & A session with the audience. The run-time of the program is approximately 120 minutes. This event is co-sponsored by the Pratt Photo League.
Free and open to the Pratt community and to the public. Registration is required for this event. Please register here by September 8.
In preparation for the upcoming Leo Rubinfien lecture, “The Reasons for Winogrand,” we reached out to photographer Mark Steinmetz for some of his personal insight into his time spent with Garry Winogrand while in Los Angles during the 1980s.
We are very grateful for Mark’s contribution to the retrospective on Garry’s life and career as a photographer.
We hope you enjoy the essay below, Remembering Garry Winogrand, by Mark Steinmetz.
Remembering Garry Winogrand
I entered the Yale School of Art straight from college and left after my first semester. I was 21. At Yale, Richard Benson had explained to me how to expose for the shadows and develop for the highlights, and Tod Papageorge had given a brilliant slide talk on Cartier-Bresson; I figured that was all I needed to know. I was restless, curious about America beyond New England, and had a strong interest in the movie industry; I also had heard that Garry Winogrand was somewhere out there in Los Angeles so in the summer of 1983 I headed west.
When I got to LA I moved into a roach-infested studio in the Miracle Mile district and set up a darkroom in the 5’ x 5’ nook that separated the bathroom from the only other room. As far as I could tell, after poking around a bit, nobody in LA had even the slightest interest in what is considered to be straight photography. Someone told me, erroneously it turned out, that Garry had left town so the scene didn’t seem at all promising. (Later on, I would meet Jeffrey Scales and Anthony Hernandez, so there were at least a couple of other straight photographers besides myself and Garry. There might have been a few more I didn’t know about.) It didn’t take long before I ran into Garry. The first time was at the counter of Samy’s Camera – he was there with his printer, Tom Consilvio. I said hello and that was pretty much that. Then I came across Garry over and over in a short period of time in both likely and unlikely places. If you have any familiarity with the sprawling nature of LA, you would see how improbable those encounters were. One day our paths crossed at the county fair way out in Pomona and since we realized we lived close to one another (in LA terms), Garry suggested that we drive to the fair together the next time.
Garry drove a small energy efficient white Toyota. He had some sort of cumbersome theft prevention contraption that he would latch to the steering wheel though I seriously doubted any thief would make the effort to go after his unvoluptuous car. My car was a Fiat, which was mischievously and irresponsibly leaking massive amounts of oil. Garry preferred going in my car so that he could photograph out the window. Once driving down Sunset Boulevard he took a picture with his 28mm lens across six lanes of traffic of a woman on the sidewalk – “aah…and she was smiling,” he said as he returned his Leica to his lap. I can’t find the citation but I think somewhere Szarkowski described Garry’s later work as “involving increasingly unequal contests of chance.”
One morning I met Garry at the Farmer’s Market at 3rd and Fairfax. He was going to show me his darkroom, which was nearby. His face was covered with little bits of kleenex or maybe toilet paper put in place to stop the bleeding from shaving. “A normal occurrence,” he said. As I remember, Garry usually wore the same dark blue work clothes. I thought he looked good but he never put much emphasis on his appearance. He had no time to waste on what he called “nonsense” and spoke of not going to a dinner party later one night because “bullshitters” were going to be there. He was a one-man anti-complacency league. Once he said, with his voice sort of trailing off, “The world is full of seductions…” He was telling me not to fall for those seductions: success with the world is easy; success with the self (through photography) is difficult. On one outing, I didn’t know what to do with a banana peel I was clutching in my hand and, looking around, there were no trash cans anywhere – it was getting to be a little absurd; he said, “Just chuck it over the fence.” So I did. His cheerful, practical manner and advice probably helped me shave off years of worrying how to be. In private, he didn’t speak so much about photography.
Garry was really funny. He actively used his mind in coming up with improbable jokes. On some drive to somewhere he told me that Woody Allen was one of his pet peeves, that he had friends in New York who were much funnier than Woody. I countered with my personal pet peeve of Australian movies (at that time, America was being inundated with Australian movies and they were receiving over the top praise). After a beat, he turned to me with a smile and said, “You see, Woody Allen doesn’t know he’s an Australian.” He was not like anyone else I had met yet he felt familiar. We thought alike.
Garry mentioned good days he had photographing, rolls he put aside because he knew he had something special on them, good work that hadn’t surfaced yet from Texas. “Tip of the iceberg,” he said about the work of his that had been published or exhibited up to that date. At a public talk, he mentioned Picasso and how Picasso had always been changing and challenging himself (and how that was a good thing). He spoke admiringly of Kertész, whom he said was able to make pictures out of nothing. He would say that if something looked like a picture he wouldn’t photograph it. At the end of a long day, I said I wanted to continue to photograph at dusk and he said, “aah…low contrast…” as if that were a tantalizing possibility. He had a motor drive on his Leica and took two rolls as we walked through a vast parking lot in the twilight. My take on his later work was that Garry was trying to keep his work unfamiliar; he was trying to come up with a new kind of picture, one that hadn’t existed before.
On a Sunday in January, 1984, I persuaded Garry to go with me to photograph at the LA Zoo. As I remember, we had a full day of shooting that went on till the light faded. On our way out, Garry spotted Bernadette Peters, the movie and Broadway actress, who was visiting the zoo with her boyfriend. Garry had photographed her before on the set of John Huston’s movie, Annie. She and her boyfriend were dressed in identical jeans, identical (leather?) jackets. Strikingly, they both had the same hairstyle – I don’t know how you would describe their hair - drooping, poodle-like. She threw her head back and shrieked with laughter in reaction to Garry taking their picture. When he sank into the seat of my car, he said, “Boy, you don’t know how tired you are till you sit down.” In February, I called him up to say I had decided to leave town and move back east (I had been struggling with money, a relationship, and in general with finding my footing in LA). His voice sounded terrible on the phone, very weak, and I had no idea what was going on with him – it was shocking. He wished me “the best of luck.” The following month, a couple weeks before my 23rd birthday, I was at my parents’ house in Connecticut and my mother brought me the NY Times. Without saying a word, she pointed to Garry’s obituary. There had been a cancer growing inside of him during the time that I had known him but he hadn’t taken notice of it.