“When we got up the nerve to crack the door open, we were immediately met with the smell of air that hadn’t been smelled in a long time: a mix of dust, musk, and cedar — a whiff that gave a sense, even to a kid, of past lives and an odor that we didn’t experience in the city, where every space seemed to be in constant use and never remained closed off for long.”
“Put me down with people, and it’s just overwhelming,” Bubley exclaimed in an interview. Like most great photojournalists, she found her art in everyday life.
“Helen Levitt’s pictures haunt like intimate ghosts – ever present, never forceful, curious, receptive.”
“I sit on the wall and watch a fisherman wrangle his net; the sea is dark and a little choppy, and I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness.”
“The cones began to be symbolic surrogates for human presence … or absence. Their serendipitous placement and interaction in their surroundings was somewhat surreal.”
“A starting point, for artists or for anyone else, might be simply learning to look around where you live now. – Lucy Lippard” Photographs and their stories from Michael Acker.
The idea, a loose brief, of following the Nile to Aswan, close to where the river enters Egypt from Sudan, I would talk to farmers and fishermen and those whose livelihood depends on the seemingly eternal flow of the longest river in Africa. I wanted to learn of the potential risks posed by climate change on rural Egypt. I also wanted a photo or two, and, an anecdote would be good.
That light and the memory of it: to glide along without friction in the warm spring air and take in that peculiar beauty shining all about is to find yourself suddenly in a higher order of landscapes, a place made more real and more present through the congruence of your solitude and its primeval majesty that demands no more than your awareness and of which you ask only that you be allowed to move slowly through it without intrusion or interruption.
A collection of all the articles we’ve published over the past month, for those who like to savor their Magpies’ tidings as an issue.
In Appalachian folklore, there is a belief that through witchcraft one can shapeshift, changing one’s physical form … The photographs in this project, which also shapeshift, are evidence of my sorcery.
magpiesmagazine.com 