“That brief meeting aroused my curiosity to such an extent that now, a year later, I find myself staring into the porcelain bowl of Stalin’s toilet.” – John Wreford
“That brief meeting aroused my curiosity to such an extent that now, a year later, I find myself staring into the porcelain bowl of Stalin’s toilet.” – John Wreford
Neal Rantoul writes with rare warmth and reverence about a transformative visit to photographer Fred Sommer.
A sketchbook of memories from painter Joel Adas’ time as a courier for the Brooklyn Museum.
“When we lose our connection to nature — when we no longer have those tactile, sensory experiences of being in water, under trees, in weather — it’s not just the present moment we lose, it’s a language for memory itself.”
A brief introduction to the work of one Britain’s finest (and under-appreciated) landscape painters.
With a few stories spanning a few decades, photographer Neal Rantoul shares his affection and admiration for fellow photographer, teacher, and friend Harry Callahan.
With clouds, within seconds, you’re working from your memory of a thing that is as nebulous and beautiful and temperamental as memory itself. As confusing as memory, seen from within the mist, as perplexing seen from afar.
Heat wave ramblings.
An excerpt from Bonnie Yochelson’s wonderful biography of photographer Alice Austen.
“But maybe the image can serve as a metaphor — not just for that dusty street, or the ever-expanding city, or the long-suffering country — but for the sad state of a world capable of so much more.”