Modern Photographers / I

When I arrived in Los Angeles in 1971, the urban landscape was totally different from Philadelphia, where I had been living previously, and, for that matter, anywhere else that I had lived. There was art deco everywhere and it was bright and sunny even in the winter. The box offices welcomed you (attracted me) and stood out like jewels surrounded by deco entrances and terrazzo sidewalks.

Not so many photographers load cameras anymore, but we all still aim them and shoot pictures. I get a bang out of describing my own photographic pursuit as hunting for big game, portraits in particular. I bag my quarry with a four-by-five instead of a thirty-aught-six. But I still hang their heads on a wall to admire like trophies

In the delicate tapestry of human existence, vulnerability weaves its intricate threads, exposing us to the caprices of fate and the relentless march of time. This vulnerability is often accentuated by the chasm that exists between the raw immediacy of lived experiences and the filtered veneer of their representation through media and technology. Nowhere is this divide more pronounced than in the contrast between the serene rhythms of rural life and the tumultuous currents of global events. As I found myself immersed in the tranquil embrace of countryside existence, I was struck by the palpable disconnect between the intimate realities of communal living and the distant spectre of world affairs. Here, amidst the verdant fields and time-honoured traditions, the fragility of human existence stood juxtaposed against the enduring resilience of community bonds.

In the spring of 2022, my mother passed away after a long illness. I was her primary caregiver for two and a half years. While she was ill, my mother advised me to get a storage unit so that I could take my time in making decisions regarding letting go of her things. I followed her advice and stored treasures from my mother's house for over a year. I kept boxes of books, buttons, knitting needles, empty envelopes, wooden stools, and cut-out squares of green paper, which meant something to my mother thus meant something to me.

In the 3+ years since I began photographing birds in earnest, I have seen so many changes, the loss of habitat being the most dramatic and devastating.

The long-awaited calendar by renowned photographer Manfred Baumann for the upcoming year promises once again to captivate the world of photography. In this current edition, Baumann has captured twelve internationally leading top models in his lens, showcasing their beauty and elegance in an impressive manner.

I grew up idealizing the natural world as a refuge from urbanity, a place of solace and spiritual renewal, and a source of awe and transcendence. But as urbanization and other human activity continue to erase them, these pristine wildernesses have become few and far between.

The series "Perspectives in Motion" is derived from my "Rear Seat Diaries," captured from a moving car –my wheelchair-accessible VW Caddy with a rear ramp. I sit in my electric wheelchair at the back of my Caddy, facing forward.

I am a photographer who documents unrecorded areas of society. In the 1970s, I took environmental portraits of children from more than a hundred families in New York City with different socioeconomic backgrounds.