Viviane Sassen

Viviane Sassen

Viviane Sassen

Viviane Sassen

Country: Netherlands
Birth: 1972

Viviane Sassen was born in 1972 in Amsterdam, and lives and works there. She first studied fashion design followed by photography at Hogeschool voor Kunsten Utrecht and fine art at Ateliers Arnhem. Sassen grew up in East Africa and has been taking photographs on the continent since her first return visit in 2002. Selected solo exhibitions have taken place at Forma in Milan (2009) and Foam in Amsterdam (2008). Sassen was one of six artists selected for the annual New Photography exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, in 2011. Recent group exhibitions include The Encyclopedic Palace at the 55th Venice Biennale (2013); No Fashion, Please! Photography between Gender and Lifestyle at the Vienna Kunsthalle (2011); Figure and Ground: Dynamic Landscape at the Museum of Contemporary Canadian Art in Toronto as part of the Contact Photography Festival (2011); and Six Yards: Guaranteed Dutch Design at the Museum voor Moderne Kunst Arnhem (2012). In 2007 Sassen received the first prize of the Prix de Rome, and in 2011 she won the International Center of Photography Infinity Award for Applied/Fashion/Advertising Photography.

Source: www.stevenson.info

Selected Books on

Viviane Sassen & Emanuele Coccia: Modern Alchemy

Viviane Sassen & Emanuele Coccia: Modern Alchemy

Viviane Sassen, Emanuele Coccia

Hot Mirror

Vivian Sassen, Eleanor Clayton, Nathalie Herschdorfer

Roxane II

Umbra

Pikin Slee

Agency

We Folk

Gallery

Stevenson

Website

www.vivianesassen.com

Viviane Sassen's Video

Selected Books

Viviane Sassen & Emanuele Coccia: Modern Alchemy

Viviane Sassen & Emanuele Coccia: Modern Alchemy

Viviane Sassen, Emanuele Coccia

Hot Mirror

Vivian Sassen, Eleanor Clayton, Nathalie Herschdorfer

Umbra

Vivian Sassen

Pikin Slee

Vivian Sassen

Inspiring Portfolios

Klavdij Sluban

Klavdij Sluban

© Klavdij Sluban

Vincenzo Barone

Vincenzo Barone

© Vincenzo Barone

Michael Ackerman

Michael Ackerman

© Michael Ackerman

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More Great Photographers To Discover

Sawyer Brice

United States
2000

I am a portrait photographer. I have always aimed for my work to feel as timeless as possible. I think I've always been chasing that feeling. I want my work to be impactful and show people truth and reality but also bring hope and wonder to whatever audience may see it. I want my work to feel vulnerable. I want to help tell people's stories, whether they are non-fictional or fictional, all while telling my own. I love to shoot on various film formats, especially 120mm, as it allows me to slow time down and truly interact with my subjects. Thus, ensuring I can observe and grasp their feelings and personality, which ideally translates into the films produced. I love making photographs, and will never stop aiming to tell stories.

Sirli Raitma

Estonia
1975

Sirli Raitma is a London based photographer. She was born and grew up in Suure-Jaani in Estonia. Sirli's images span portraiture, landscapes and interiors, but portraiture - especially involving ambiguity via costume or displacement - is her heartland. Project - Eha EHA is a series of portraits of my mother, portrayed in a series of unusual situations, poses and attire. Eha was born in Estonia in 1950. Widowed, suffering from epilepsy and lacking great command of English, Eha stayed tightly involved in our lives. In 2015 Eha began to suffer from depression. Life became bleaker. Something had to be done. I came up with a plan to give her something new to focus on, beyond her new procession of doctor's appointments and medications. The 'EHA' project was born. 'Eha revealed herself to be a natural model, happy to play along with my increasingly imaginative visual fantasies. The 'EHA' project has had an effect on both of us. It is encouraging to see that the results for us are also having a resonance for others. The project has featured in UK and Estonian magazines. The feedback from readers has been fantastic and is consistent it that it has prompted many to look at their own family situations and how they treat each other.'

Radana Kuchařová

Radana Kuchařová

Czech Republic

Radana Kuchařová was born in Czechoslovakia and experienced life behind the "Iron Curtain". She graduated at Czech technical university and then worked as a designer. When the borders were opened after the “Velvet Revolution”, with great joy, like many Czechs, she began to explore previously inaccessible regions. When traveling, she always carried a camera and recorded foreign countries. In addition to buildings and architecture, she became interested in people, their life and customs. The human story is what can interest me the most! She also tries to create creative photography.

K-Narf

France/Australia
1970

Using adhesive tape to manually process my photographs, open to influences from street art and video, the medium of photography is for me not only limited to truth-seeking but is also a toy to create and play. Both conceptual and experimental, definitely non-conventional, my work documents, recycles and collects the visual anachronisms of a world in a perpetual mutation.For the past decade K-narf has lived and exhibited worldwide including Japan, Australia, France, Singapore, USA and Italy. His exhibitions, often taking the form of ephemeral installations, are shown without distinction in a plant still in operation, an old theatre, Art galleries, Art biennales or an abandoned garage. His work has been shown atthe Museum of Contemporary Art in Scottsdale (US), the Museum of Sydney, the Japan Foundation for the Arts, The Yves Klein Archives, Issey Miyake (Paris), the Clic gallery in NYC as well as a solo show during the Arles photo festival.

Gulnara Samoilova

Gulnara Samoilova

United States
1964

Gulnara Samoilova is a Russia-born American photographer, living in New York City. Her work in New York City after the September 11 attacks won a World Press Photo award and is held in the collection of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. Samoilova is the founder of the website, social media platform and travelling exhibition Women Street Photographers, and edited a book of the same name. Samoilova was born and grew up in Ufa, Bashkortostan, Russia. After school she worked in a photo lab, then became a portrait photographer, and later a photojournalist for a local newspaper. She gained a diploma in photography from Moscow Polytech College. In 1992 Samoilova moved to New York City and studied at the International Center of Photography. She worked for the Associated Press and photographed the aftermath of the September 11 attacks in New York City in 2001. In 2017 Samoilova launched the website, social media platform, and travelling exhibition Women Street Photographers, to show street photography by women. In 2021 a book of the same name was published, which she edited, containing the work of 100 photographers.Source: Wikipedia

Olga Karlovac

Croatia
1976

Olga Karlovac lives and works in Zagreb, Croatia. She has exhibited widely across Europe with recent solo shows in the UK and Belgium. Her photography has been featured in renowned publications including Black+White Photography and Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. Self-taught and inspired by abstract expressionists and poets rather than photographers, Olga Karlovac published her first photo book in 2017. Her subsequent trilogy encompassing 'before winter', 'the disarray' and 'escape' has been well received with the first edition now fully sold out. Olga captures the drama of the everyday in her work, intuitively releasing the shutter to hold on to the comfort derived from the interplay of shadow and light. Her subjects are never staged, fleeting moments seemingly captured in slow motion. Taken exclusively in black and white, often at night, through windows or in rainy conditions, the resulting images appear both abstract and painterly.

Michael Ackerman

Michael Ackerman

Israel/United States
1967

Born in Tel Aviv, Israel. His family moves to New York in 1974. Lives and works in Warsaw. Since his first exhibition, in 1999, Michael Ackerman has made his mark by bringing a new, radical and unique approach. His work on Varanasi, entitled "End Time City," breaks away from all sorts of exoticism or any anecdotal attempt at description, to question time and death with a freedom granted by a distance from the panoramic – whose usage he renewed – to squares or rectangles. In black and white, with permanent risk that led him to explore impossible lighting, he allowed the grainy images to create enigmatic and pregnant visions. Michael Ackerman seeks – and finds – in the world he traverses, reflections of his personal malaise, doubts and anguish. He received the Nadar Award for his book "End Time City" in 1999, and the Infinity Award for Young Photographer by the International Center of Photography in 1998. In 2009, he won the SCAM Roger Pic Award for his series "Departure, Poland". His last book "Half Life" has been published in 2010 by Robert Delpire. In 2014, he collaborated with Vincent Courtois, cellist, and Christian Caujolle, behind the project, in a show called “L'intuition” which proposes a dialogue between photography and music creation. This show was presented, in particular, as part of the festival Banlieues Bleues and for the Rencontres d'Arles 2014.Source: Agence VU Selected Publications 2wice, Abitare, Aperture, Art On Paper, Beaux Arts, Die Zeit, Doubletake, Eyemazing, French Photo, Granta, Harpers, India Magazine, La Humanite, Internazionale, Les Inrockuptibles, Liberation, Le Matin, Le Monde 2, Metropolis, New York Magazine, The New York Times Sunday Magazine, The New Yorker, Ray Gun, La Repubblica delle Donne, Rolling Stone, Stern and The Village Voice. Awards SCAM Roger Pic Award, 2009. Prix Nadar, End Time City, 1999. Best Documentary of 1999, photo-eye, 1999. Infinity Award, Young Photographer, International Center of Photography, 1998. 2014 L’intuition – A projection in collaboration with musician Vincent Courtois, curated by Christian Caujolle. Performed In la Friche Belle de Mai, Marseille, 4 Fevrier Le Lux Scene national de Valence, Festival Banlieues blues, Paris and Rencontres photographiques d’Arles SUSPENSION Noun: Suspension, Verb: suspend: “To cause to stop for a period, hold in abeyance; suspend judgment.” In Michael Ackerman's work, documentary and autobiography conspire with fiction, and all of the above dissolve into hallucination. The particular journeys of his book Half Life encompass New York, Havana, Berlin, Naples, Paris, Warsaw, and Krakow, but the locations aren’t necessarily recognizable at all. Michael has been moving towards this erasure of geographical and other distinctions in his photographs for some time. It hasn’t become dogma - the Smoke photographs shot in Atlanta’s Cabbagetown remain a beautifully regional document, but they document a neighborhood as a particular dream state rather than a set of facts, and the photos could wander easily into his other bodies of work. In all cases, there is surely a trajectory away from the constraints of a traditional documentary mode towards a very different way of getting at the world. Some notes about particular photos in Half Life: A family, seen on a decaying porcelain tombstone portrait - solarized by decades of exposure - is falling apart, as families do, is holding on together, as families do. The shape of their little monument is uncannily like that of the Hotel Centrum on a later page, where such a family, had they existed in the same era, would not have been able to stay. The Centrum, a modern Polish megalith, floats absurdly in the frame, freed from all scale but heavy on the page. A naked man kneeling on a bed; we find him in supplication or some unspecific bondage. He is trapped, caught between stations, and the terrible but accepted scratch lines on the negative make it feel like TV or video, as if the man is seen through some screen, receding. It’s no longer a portrait of a particular person. It seems as if the man has become some vague entity, a sick feeling, a migraine headache, I don’t even know. A man goes up stairs or an escalator and his hand is ridiculously long, maybe like that of Nosferatu in Murnau’s silent film. The stairs begin in Lodz but, according to the next page, pass a landing in Havana. Suspension... A woman, naked, holds her arms against her torso. She looks up, somehow in simultaneous surprise and recognition. I can’t say if her face shows love or sadness or fear, but there’s something inevitable in her expression. It’s strange how she seems so caught in flux, while her shadow, so dark on the wall, is just the opposite, permanent.* * * In the early stages of his building the Half Life book, Michael and I talked about where to put the series of pictures taken from train windows, mostly in deep winter. At one point they were scattered throughout, at other times they fell together in a bloc, but in any case, the body of work, and the book as a whole, started to feel to me like they ran on rails in the snow, and the places and people within them were stops, things seen or felt in passing. They’re encountered, drift away, are longed for, returned to, left behind again. If Michael’s work is sometimes tough, the landscapes remind us back to a balancing delicacy, a faith in beauty. Michael deeply loves the snow trains that cut archaically through Europe, especially through Eastern Europe, especially the overnight trains which he and I share as our transportation of choice. On these you travel but are nowhere for the duration of the trip, floating through whiteness if it’s wintertime. This nothing in which things float is echoed in his prints, though the white is sometimes heavily vignetted, as if darkness wants in. Alternately, the backgrounds can be of total blackness, and then the subject radiates like a candle. But back to the snow trains, which often run through the most ignored and beautiful parts of cities, where commercial facades drop away like forced smiles into debris and frozen mud and warehouses, which then give way to fields. Riding on one of these trains outside of Katowice, Poland en route to Paris, Michael spotted in the distance the warped row of dead train cars seen in the book. Desperate to photograph them, he guessed at their location and eventually returned. He got off at the closest stop, trudged through the snow, and found the trains, but approaching across a frozen field, camera in hand, his legs suddenly plunged through a chasm in the whiteness, a missing manhole cover. In what he referred to as a “rare case of quick thinking,” he stuck out his arms, breaking the fall, and managed to pull himself out. No one knew he was there, and if he’d perished, it would’ve been for the love of trains, and of wreckage, and of course, of pictures. * * * Many in the panel of men at the beginning of Half Life were photographed in bars. Some were found in a bar in Paris where the old and ageless proprietor became one of Michael’s favorite people, not just in the city, but in the world. Her bar was a special refuge, and though she was difficult, she truly took Michael in. This tiny bar remains a constant, a place of return, but many of the regulars he’s met over the years are now gone. For some moments however, they drew, or seemed to draw, terribly close, with alcohol as glue and pictures proof -- but of what… mutual need, eventual isolation, or the pendulum swing between the two… A bar is something like the center of an hourglass: at the top is time disappearing, and at the bottom, time spent. But to those in the place, the regulars, the middle is the only thing apparent and there time has stopped. (An interesting circumstance for others in the time-stopping business, and not just still photographers. The phenomena is beautifully understood in Daumier’s paintings of drinkers or Denis Johnson’s Jesus’ Son). It is illusory, of course; the people are held in that place where, like the proverbial cartoon character who’s gone off a cliff, they just don’t realize the ground has dropped away beneath their feet. Once again, suspension. Which also has a musical definition: The prolongation of a tone in one chord into the following chord, usually producing a temporary dissonance. This prolongation of tone, an ongoing search, gives the work continuity, as does the dissonance, which can be restlessness or loss. I won’t talk much here about the emotional drive behind the work, or the personal ramifications, but that’s my hesitation, not Michael’s. There’s a picture in Half Life of the photographer and a woman, both with shaved heads, a troubled mirroring, a last strange union. The photograph is a pact: see you now, see you later, so long... In the last few years, such goodbyes have given way to a series of welcomings, explorations of the concrete changes and dream states of immediate family, wife and child. These pictures, deeply caring but by necessity fearless, reverberate with bluntness, warmth, shock, matter of fact erotics, and of course love, which when regarded honestly, includes a steamer trunk of contradictions. So, there is fear mixed in with the fearlessness, the joy includes some trepidation, the innocence is utterly real, but tangled and fleeting. How disappointing it would be if a photographer so open to the wrenching truths of the world would suddenly pull all punches when faced with the most intimate situation of all. How unfortunate it would be, for all of us, if investigations of intimacy were left to the whitewashers and the advertisers, the puritans and the pornographers. And so, in the recent work, new tightropes are stretched and new risks are taken. But in looking back at Michael’s work as a whole, I’m reminded that one of the great challenges artists face is when to pull back from the proverbial edge - those addicted to pushing the envelope sometimes fall into a negative trap which has its own complacency. A kind or subtle or purely beautiful image might actually be the risk that they can’t seem to take. The walking of tightropes has always been integral to Michael’s work, but I don’t see him falling into that dark trap, which is why the work is thorny but never cynical, heavy but also sweet. Beyond all of that, I still don’t understand how the pictures happen, how he gets them. It certainly isn’t about the equipment, the cameras come and go, sometimes literally broken but still pressed into use. I think Michael feels that taking pictures and taking chances should be kindred enterprises. I’ve met few artists less uptight about the technology and intricacies of gear and production, though he does of course become completely intimate with what he needs in order to get at what he feels. Once I heard him suggest in a Q & A that he just doesn’t care about technique, but knowing the time and tortures he’s given over to darkroom work, I thought that was a touch disingenuous. He meant that technique and technology are never the core of the matter, and that he doesn’t like to be precious about them. And he needs accidents; they might reveal something, break something open. Sometimes they might go too far and the image itself is obliterated: again, necessary risk. I’ve seen him photograph without putting the camera to his eye, as if to confirm that what he was after wasn’t primarily even about seeing. (That too is deceptive; with time, some photographers know what the camera is getting, regardless of where it’s held). Maybe I mean that compared to many other photographers, Michael’s work isn’t so concerned with sight itself. If he could have been a writer, painter, or a musician, that might have worked too. In any case, the results speak for themselves, and the results are often kind of insane. Sadly, because of the madness of these photographs and the digital times we’ve entered, people increasingly assume that certain pictures must be computer manipulations. Michael is no purist, but that simply isn’t what is going on here. Do you see how it matters that even if these are accidents of light and the distorting lens, they are things that somehow happened, that were? They come out of the real; however unlikely or impossible, they are measurements - not constructions. They are measurements, but in the end, of the interior as much as of the world. But like I said, Michael’s not a purist, and in his impure searching, he occasionally walks a thin line between accepting pure actuality and giving it a nudge. We argue about it. I don’t know what to make of the picture where someone else’s old portrait of Anna Akhmatova is held up and rephotographed. I guess Michael wanted to invite her into that streetscape, felt she was part of his history or emotional landscape; maybe he just loved her profile and wondered, what the hell, why not? Sometimes the work is funny. The absurdly mismatched nude couple in the book aren’t funny but they are, as is the man who wears a monocle made of smoke. The Coney Island hotdog signs reading ‘Franks’ and the American flag they stutter towards comprise a whimsical tribute to one particular, beloved photographer; first name - Robert. Occasional whimsy aside though, Half Life is a rough ride through damaged places and situations. And what’s it like to be with Michael when he’s photographing such things? Well, it isn’t necessarily comfortable, or easy, or pleasant. Sometimes artists push their work, and their luck along with it. Sometimes Michael just plunges in. I was crossing the street with him on the Lower East side once when a woman suddenly appeared, coming towards us in the intersection. Something in her presence struck us instantly with force -- she might have been beautiful or she might have been mutilated -- we had no time to register anything; but he lunged and got off one picture as I stood by and winced. I doubt she noticed at all, but what if she had? (The picture is in Fiction; it appears to be of a ghost in a miniskirt, perhaps with a black eye.) Such pictures do not come out of discretion, or delicacy, or fair exchange. In many of Michael’s pictures mutual understanding simply may or may not have existed. There is a harshness to this observation; it troubles me, and yet I can say that Michael’s pictures are always, deeply made without judgment, in total acceptance. That in itself is a kind of love. And the subjects obviously extend him enormous trust. (Well... except when they don’t. Walking with Michael on a street in Krakow, he photographed another approaching woman, a middle-aged matron. She yelled angrily at him in Polish; he kept walking but yelled back, in Polish: “You’re beautiful.”) It is probably no accident then that the gesture of the embrace recurs again and again in Michael’s work. Which leads me to what may be my favorite set of pictures that Michael has taken, of the couple on the stairs: To what do we owe this strange and tender record ? And what is the record of? An older man and his young girlfriend collapsed in drunken surrender… or perhaps a father and son broken together on a subway staircase ? Who is holding who up? Was the man once a boxer? If the younger one is in fact a woman, is she his lover? The stairs are at once unyielding and rippling, bending and unbending. This couple, whatever their relationship and circumstance, are attended to then in a series of photographs, equally harsh and gentle, unwrapped over time. But what time is given - minutes, hours, or an unending day or an unending night? You can just about hear the tinny loudspeakers in the background of the train station, and thinking of stations, I am reminded that the 13th station is the descent from the cross. The actual circumstances, the truth of it, the year and the gender, hardly matter, don’t matter at all. At its best, the work speaks past such details, and even beyond photography.

Sandra Tamos

Lithuania
1989

Since my childhood I was attracted to visual arts, painting mostly. I had a dream to become a fashion costume designer when I grow up. When I was 14 things changed. I didn’t lose my passion for painting, but the camera my dad gave me drew me into photography. Since then I started taking self-portraits and gained some photography experience. Later I started reading books about photography and wasn’t taking any pictures for the time being. When I was 18 I bought my first digital camera and started taking pictures of nature. I became addicted to macrophotography, as the camera revealed worlds unseen by a naked eye. When I graduated from school I studied, Technology of photography at Vilnius University of Applied Engineering Sciences, and obtained a Photo Journalist bachelor degree. In photography my most beloved avenues are portrait and dance photography, especially ballet. Ballet for me is something above reality, something spiritual, fantastic. In photos I try to show ballet, the way I see and feel it. I try to create pictures which remind fairy tales or dreams, which look out of this world.All about Sandra Tamos:AAP: When did you realize you wanted to be a photographer?Before graduating, as I remember. It's hard to say what led me to like it. it simply drew me. I never wanted to, but I suppose it was my destiny to become a photographer.AAP: Where did you study photography?Vilnius College of Technologies and Design, Lithuania.AAP:Do you have a mentor?NoAAP: How long have you been a photographer?Since my first shot, five years aproximatelyAAP: Do you remember your first shot? What was it?The first digital photo was a dandelion fluff with water drops. However my absolutely first picture was self-portrait, photographed with old russian film camera, when I was 14.AAP: What or who inspires you?Little bits of everything, I would have to write a book to metnion everything what inspires me, so I will save your time and will only mention few key sources of inspiration. Life, from germination/birth to blossom and so on. Water, in all forms. Fog, tiny drops on leaves or spider web, rain, ponds, rivers.AAP: How could you describe your style?Sensual, mystical, darkly romantic.AAP: What kind of gear do you use? Camera, lens, digital, film?I use Pentax K-5 digital camera, and my favorite lenes are SMC Pentax A 50 f/1,7 and Sigma 30 f/1,4.AAP: Do you spend a lot of time editing your images?Yes, it takes skill and time to turn diamonds into brilliants, same with photos. But I enjoy the process so I dont mind if it takes time.AAP: Favorite(s) photographer(s)?Too many to mention all of them. Lately especially admire Gregory Colbert creation.AAP: What advice would you give a young photographer?Learn how to operate the camera perfectly, theres nothing worse than perfect moment slipping away, or when a moment that was felt right for a perfect picture, ends in dissapointment of failing to freeze it in camera, when it simply doesnt look the way it had to and the way it was perceived.AAP: What mistake should a young photographer avoid?Loosing faith, should be avoided.

Jaclyn Cori

United States
1968

Cori is a lens-based storyteller. With a B.A. in English and an M.F.A. in Photography she combines the two specializations to create visual narratives. Fact, fiction and poetry intermix to address the evolving nature of self and family. Dreams and nightmares coexist. As the participant observer she balances on the tightrope between seeing and being. Living and working in Savannah, Georgia, she is the mother of fraternal twin daughters and a Professor of Photography at The Savannah College of Art and Design. Cori teaches Lightroom, Darkroom, Portfolio Building and Book Making. She is included in Who's Who Among American Teachers and quoted in ''Teaching Photography: Tools for the Imaging Educator''. Selected publications include ''The View Project'', F-Stop magazine, Art Ascent, Art Square New York, and ''Eye Mama: Poetic Truths of Home and Motherhood''. Born on the Same Day Born on the Same Day reflects the separation and interdependence of fraternal twin girls. By the taking on and discarding of roles, it is the discovery of their world through free play and fantasy. They embrace the life-long process of understanding themselves and each other. Every morning they open their eyes and there is ''the other one'', their twin, their castmate. Everything around them began the same, yet they are entirely unique. Snow White, draped in Rapunzel's hair, cascades down the stairs. The other child, who refuses to wear clothes, sits on a stool examining a wounded knee. Snow White, donning a veil like Mother Teresa's, twirls towards her twin to get a glance. Her gesture, the transition of separateness to closeness is her own, but also an empathic gift to her sister, and a serendipitous moment for her mother photographer. They weave a tale of drama, comedy, and tragedy. They dance together, push apart, run away and always return to dance together again. One moment they hate each other and the next they are giggling behind a closed bedroom door. Their story began with me soothing their booboos, providing costumes, and always being the safe haven. As princess costumes turned into gymnastics competitions and pointe shoes, simply kissed wounds have been replaced with the joys and sorrows of fantasy falling away. They sob, they scream, they triumph and fail, creating a space in a bigger world and turning to each other to be understood and accepted. Sometimes I cry. Often, I laugh. I console. I advise. I feel their suffering and strength, working to lessen the former and develop the latter. And all the while I make photographs, having also become the archivist of their childhood, creating a lyrical, vivid family album as unique as each twin.

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