Poetry and photography by Cristina Finotto, of the Po delta.
Cristina Finotto: Poems and Photographs
The Photography of Jack Delano
I feel I share a common interest in subject matter with Delano, and have traveled to many of the same places – just in very different times and circumstances.
Alternative Process Photography – Amy Marie Gladding
“I am driven to document my surroundings to try to find a sense of place in the world.”
The Lost Art Exhibit
An art exhibit comes to rest in an abandoned New Jersey Neighborhood
Pinhole Photographs: Harvey Mills
“I find that one has to take an almost Zen-like approach to image making with pinholes – you can’t rush the process! Your subject matter and compositional decisions need to be very carefully considered – although framing is usually imprecise. The simplicity is perfect as you can concentrate on the creative aspects of photography rather than being bogged down with technicalities.”
Mark Cohen/Vivian Maier/Thierry Guetta
Work that lies dormant and unseen is like the art we create in our dreams, so perfectly full of potential and possibility- glimpses into the memories of others and the collective memory of all of us.
Fortunes in Apples: Photo Essay by Mark Ludak
“Photographing places particularly hard hit by the transition from an industrial and agrarian economy to an economy of unfettered consumption on the margins of mainstream society is a story I feel compelled to tell.”
Movies of Local People
The footage is beautifully relentless, streams of people in different cities leaving work and school, streams of people smiling at the camera. You wonder about all the thoughts in their head. The fears and loves and worries. You wonder about their lives before and after this moment.
Gordon Parks’ The Restraints, Open and Hidden
The way Parks presents his subjects, with so much affection and clarity, we feel that we love them, and this brings home the realities of fear and injustice in a new and powerful manner.
Peter Ydeen: Easton Nights
The night has its own visual rules, its own color wheel, and its own ethereal presence. Here, in the small hours, the world we see as mundane, cascades into dream.
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