portfolios — FLOAT

Lauren Taubenfeld

Apr 20

Apr 20 Lauren Taubenfeld

Oh Brother | Oh Brother, has taken shape over the course of over ten years, in collaboration with her younger brother Benny from 2005 to 2018. Lauren Taubenfeld photographed her brother Benny, as he grew from adolescence to early manhood. This extensive body of work can be viewed as a fascinating document of an always-compelling transition but on closer look, images reveal further nuances; a collaboration, a sibling bond, and at the same time a picture of his adolescence. By photographing my brother frequently and intimately over his developmental years, a sense of mirroring began to emerge, recalling something of the artist’s own adolescent self. The outcome are these uncanny portraits of her brother and self as well as a glimpse into the off-scene periods and reveal ‘in between moments’ of his everyday life. Benny’s tenacious, rebellious manner is constant as such prevails even among these photographs. www.laurentaubenfeld.com

Apr 14

Apr 14 Fred Lahache

Looking for Hamza | Hamza and I grew up together. We were kids, then teens, and we're still in touch. I remember the stories he would tell me after each summer in Morocco with his family, that time of the year we could not be together for a while. So when I first visited Morocco recently, I couldn't help trying to depict those stories, and imagine him by my side. This is the diary of the trip we never had. www.fredlahache.com

Apr 13

Apr 13 Matailong Du

In Passing | In Passing is an ongoing photography project which portrays people’s daily lives in the public environment such as streets. This project is the photographer’s approach to show the importance and beauty of people and things around us. Something ordinary could be extraordinary.

Street photography could be the easiest and most difficult art format: it is extremely accessible for people photographing in the public space, but it is hard for photographers making connections between visual arts and real life efficiently. Magnum photographer Harry Gruyaert said, “There is no story. It’s just a question of shapes and light”. It is unnecessary to discover every story behind photographs and there are no stories for some photographs. For In Passing, the most important elements are shadow and strong colors.

By having those two elements, the objects in the photographs could be presented directly while coming with a dynamic arena for normal people. The body of work could fit in with current contemporary art by combining documentary photography and fine art photography. The ideal audiences for In Passing could be people who do not get involved much with visual art or people who are always in a rush and fail to slow down and discover the beauty around them. www.matailongdu.com

Maria Mavropoulou

Apr 12

Apr 12 Maria Mavropoulou

The Desire for Consciousness | These images have no titles and no captions to guide you about what to see or how to perceive their content. There is no text to recreate the missing context.

In these images it’s impossible to determine the time, the place or the circumstances under which the photo was taken as the black background deprives us from any other information that would help us locate its subject in the real world.

In this way, relocated in a virtual space, the depicted object somehow loses its “realness” and tends to represent the meaning of it, it becomes an idea and it is transformed into a symbol.

Although the operation and the meaning of a symbol are predetermined in this series I create new symbols and invite the viewer to give them meaning by reading them literally or metaphorically. In my mind these images work in coherence, like a deck of cards that tells a different story every time it’s shuffled, raising questions about how differently each one of us interprets the same stimulus and therefore how diverse interpretations can occur when meanings are not fixed but depending on the ever changing context and every individual viewer. www.mariamavropoulou.com

Apr 8

Apr 8 Paul Stein

LIES | “and that certain images be formed in the mind… to remain there, resurgent” (Ezra Pound, Canto LXXIV)

Lies explores how we remember and how we will be remembered. The diptychs in this project depict how observation gives way to memory, how intention gives way to intrusion, how truth and fiction merge, and how our experiences gain a new meaning through our reimagining. Like memory, the combinations of images in Lies are open-ended for others to build their own lies.

The parings start from the assumption that photography is a tool for visual thinking, then ask us to think about these questions:

· Memory: While there might be consistency in how images are made, and cohesion in how images are exhibited, how are images linked in memory to summarize and catalogue the arc of a life? What is the difference between the visual truths we immediately experience, and the explanatory lies we subsequently fabricate? Since we are deluged with exponentially more visual images than we could ever shoot personally, how do we mentally curate (retain, retrieve, and reframe) all this visual information in a process that creates both complementary and dissonant dialogues between images?

· Mortality: How will we ourselves – our quotidian lives and the images we create – be appropriated and remembered by others decades from now as part of the long tradition of memento mori art? Anyone regarding vernacular photographs has the somber knowledge that virtually all the people in those photographs are deceased.

· Appropriation: What are the boundaries for “taking” a picture and what does it matter who shoots? Are my visual experiences limited to the camera in front of my eyes and the creation of a new image, or are they equally defined by my appropriation of an existing image from others or myself and the adding to it of new visual meaning?

Lies answers these questions by engaging in the practice of vernacular photography. Rather than seeking what is disturbingly odd in vernacular images, Lies builds on what is profoundly ordinary in them. Lies does not treat vernacular images as insufficiently resonant, and therefore needing to be treated as a canvas for collage or inserting the artist’s identity. Instead, Lies explores the abundant meanings inherent in vernacular images, and the equally implicit meanings outside the frame of these images. Lies gathers images separated by decades of time and hundreds of miles of space, and creates a narrative moment between them in the photo album that constitutes memory. Of course, these vernacular narratives are lies, living outside the intended memorialized moment by these anonymous photographers. Yet it is through such lies, through the extractions and sequencing of experiences through memory, that we create meanings for our lives. paulsteinalibis.com

Apr 6

Apr 6 Jacob Moss

One Arm Dove Hunt | One Arm Dove Hunt is an ongoing documentary project about people with Ectodermal Dysplasia, a rare genetic condition that I also have. Over the past two years I have travelled through more than 25 states, met with and photographed individuals with various forms of Ectodermal Dysplasia. The photographs explore areas of intersection, similarities, differences, the ways we view ourselves and the way we think about ourselves in relation to other people. I ask what does it mean to be part of a community defined by a medical condition? How does that impact an individual’s sense of self? The portraits depict a diverse array of individuals from across the United States who happen to have ectodermal dysplasia, and the journey that brought me to them.

Through my travels, landscape becomes a subject. The emphasis on texture in my landscapes references the condition that links myself and my subjects. One Arm Dove Hunt is an exploration of self: how one moves through the world looking different; how one develops because of and in spite of having a rare medical condition; and how important community and connectivity can be to establishing one’s place in the world. www.jacobimoss.com

Apr 5

Apr 5 Omer Kaplan

218th Bayside, Queens | I found Gayle on Facebook when I was looking for people to photograph. I felt like she had an interesting story and I’ve never photographed someone her age. I met Gayle and her partner Chuck next to their place at Dunkin Donuts in Oakland, Queens. Gayle and Chuck live together, but they couldn’t get married because she is on the other end of her disability pension. They have a close relationship and it seems like Chuck would follow Gayle anywhere.

Gayle collects stuff because she is afraid to become homeless again. Throughout her childhood, she was abused by her dad and has developed anxiety. She is currently working on a book and a documentary hoping to support other people who are dealing with similar issues. Something in the experience filled my soul with ripples of memories coming from a dream childhood.

I miss them. There was something comforting in their presence. They are full of life and refreshing. We all deal with the same feelings. It does not matter how old we are, our background, nor gender. We speak different languages, but we know how to listen. As I moved towards the door, they followed me and said goodbye.

I smiled to myself, Wondering when will be the next time I’ll Come by. www.omerkaplan.net

Apr 1

Apr 1 Andy Richter

Louise B. Moore | My grandmother’s acute mind, clever wit, humility and selflessness are aspects of her being that I hope to embody in my own life. She was dedicated to serving others, with love, in her speech, thoughts and actions.

Between us, the conversation was honest and never forced. There was a tranquil, natural quality about the way time passed when we were together. Her presence grounded me, in a manner that one with many years of experience can. Sometimes we would listen to old-time music on her porch and sip wine in the afternoon sun. In the evenings, we watched Wheel of Fortune or the Twins play baseball on television. We played cards or scrabble, and she typically won. We dined around town, hoping to taste something new. With age, rather than closing down and becoming more rigid, she grew ever more open to life.

She frequently talked about her years as a young woman, of life out on her own for the first time. She told the story of meeting my grandfather at work by offering to share her Popsicle with him. She spoke of the war and separation. And, about the move to St. Paul to begin a new life and family in Minnesota. It was as if these moments happened yesterday, they were crystal clear in her mind.

I would tell her my latest ideas and share my pictures with her. She told me about her recent bridge game with the ladies. I massaged her stiff, tired feet by the fireside. She always drove and made sure I got to the airplane on time. Oftentimes, we simply sat there…in silence, present, together.

Louise moved on recently, as autumn turned to winter…she was in her own home, surrounded by her family and much love. A 93-year life of integrity, independence and vitality, released.
These photographs are my memory, moments in time together. www.andyrichterphoto.com

Julia Vandenoever

Mar 24

Mar 24 Julia Vandenoever

Still Breathing | Losing all family left me feeling alone and ungrounded. The year my mother died from cancer, I also lost my brother to a life of addiction. The people who knew me longest were suddenly gone. Our small family of three went to one marking the end of my family of origin.

Grief is a strange cocktail of emotions and it swallowed me. From cravings to wear all my mom’s handmade sweaters all at once in order to inhale her smell to hours of uncontrollable angry crying fits about words gone unsaid. I did not want to forget and I could not let go. I collected everything in her house I could from handwriting on scraps of paper, birthday cards, old perfume bottles to used tissues in pockets - the only pieces of my childhood left.

As I was swimming in grief, my own two children were growing up. Their gestures and experiences illuminated the fragility and duality of childhood - with every step of growth there is a loss. Observing their childhood transported me back to my own. I saw myself back in these moments with my mom and brother. I threaded together our two childhoods to preserve both theirs and mine. By recreating my memories, I put my family of origin back together again.

Still Breathing is a meditation on loss and remembering. Distilling the chaos was a healing process for me. I told my mom that she would not be forgotten. Still Breathing is my promise. www.juliavandenoever.com

Mariia Ermolenko

Mar 23

Mar 23 Mariia Ermolenko

Camouflage | I am inspired by how snow and fog change space. They dissolve everything without a trace. Hidden from our eyes, people, cities and animals seem to be protected from danger. When forests burn down and whole species of animals become extinct, I try to figure out how I could protect them. In the project, I enwrap in smoke, shroud, hide natural objects that seem vulnerable to me.
Now I think about protection.

I think about mimicry. Only a few species of animals and plants are capable of such transformation. What if everyone could protect themselves with adaptable coloring? I fill the snow-white space with awareness and diligence, like Japanese engravers, leaving only outlines and hints. As if running with an ink pen on a white sheet, I examine the fillability of emptiness.

Objects merge with the world, and we no longer notice them. We leave them alone. mariiaermolenko.com

Mar 22

Mar 22 David Barreiro

An Inventory of Gaps | An Inventory of Gaps is a collaborative photo-book by Lucy Holt and David Barrerio. It was edited by Rut Blees Luxemburg and designed by Bakhtawer Haider and Magda Tritto and published by FOLIUM as part of the Royal College of Art’s Future Archive project. Having closely observed the construction of the new RCA building at Battersea over a series of site visits, participants of the project were invited to respond to the site in their practice. An Inventory of gaps is one such response. Combining images and text, the work looks at the ever-shifting nature of construction sites, which are often perceived as simply voids or holding spaces, looking closely at the poetry of the taps, textures and movements contained within. www.davidbarreiro.com

Mar 18

Mar 18 Michael Snyder

THE ANCIENTS | Trapped in my home for a year during the time of the pandemic, I took to long walks through the forest at midnight, when no one else was around. On these quiet escapes through field and fen, I found myself struck by the conspicuous fact that, throughout it all, here in the patient indifference of night, the trees, and the stream, and the little moth in pursuit of her moon, these things remain; they quietly endure. Confined to our boxes and lost in the mist of our own misfortunes, it has become easy to forget that out here, even in the depths of winter at night, we are surrounded and carried by innumerable beings and relentless forces far more ancient and awesome than we.

Mar 17

Mar 17 Sylvain Biard

BADLANDS | My grandmother was buried in the cemetery of a small french village. That morning the white sky fell into confusion with the mists. Color had disappeared. She's here now surrounded by these roads while somewhere in family albums, one finds her presence in her father’s photographs. www.twennys.com

Mar 16

Mar 16 Mady Lykeridou

The island that takes me on journeys | I arrived on the island of Milos 18 years ago(2002). The search for the essence of the world, leads me to photograph every day everything that surrounds me on a piece of land edged between sea and sky.
150.6 km²
"Trapped" in paradise.
Born to travel.
Photography is the medium that allows me to travel as frequently as I need.

Everyday scenes under the Cycladic light, of a fleeting world in which every detail is related to the concept of birth, of transformation of life and death. Light, shadows and shapes which carry me back and forth in time. A green sea, a Venus appearing in my shadow, insects dying slowly …
Everything I look at, discover and become on the island. www.madylykeridou.com

Mar 15

Mar 15 Birgit Buchart

Space Available | Space Available is documenting the current economic state of Manhattan's richest and most luxurious neighborhoods.

One afternoon late September, after my first visit to the MET since February, I walked down Madison Avenue and found myself in an overwhelmingly melancholic mood taking photos of all the empty spaces, which in the beginning of this year were still proudly displaying the wealthy and glamorous lifestyle of the Upper East Side.

I continued this series over the following week in Midtown and the West Village. By doing so, it became clear to me that this project was not only a matter of the documentation of an economic crisis but also a creative way to finally capture this strange, new, scary and sad feeling, I could never quite grasp or explain but have been carrying inside myself since March. The sudden emptiness, the distorted reflections of the "(new) normal life", the masks, the self-reflecting, the strong contrasts –– it has been a big mess, an emotional chaos, and so feels this series of reflections and contrasting worlds colliding. www.birgitbuchart.com

Lee-Marie Sadek

Mar 10

Mar 10 Lee-Marie Sadek

William Mark Sommer

Mar 8

Mar 8 William Mark Sommer

The Loneliest Highway | The empty stretch of road goes on for miles, nothing but the occasional sign or the passerby as the pavement beneath my tires breathes the melody of past motorists. The Loneliest Highway is my lyrical journey across Nevada finding solace in the emptiness along the Lincoln Highway in the wake of the Covid-19 Pandemic. This melancholy song is driven by the feelings of isolation that conveys the essence of the stay at home orders and the loneliness that came in seclusion afterward. Through these discoveries in loneliness along the road I was able to develop catharsis of the moment and empowerment to show this current time. Along this lonely road the lines move like a day in wait as I pass through the forgotten towns that align the highway, nothing to be said or heard but the whispers of what came before and a hope in betterment of tomorrow. www.williammarksommer.com

Mathias Strømfeldt

Mar 2

Mar 2 Mathias Strømfeldt

I always work with an immediate approach and let the motives arise. Street photography is a poor term, but nonetheless a genre that embraces the idea of capturing the moment. And my whole photographic journey is about capturing the moments that touches something in me. I know right away if I am gravitated to a motive or not. I photograph for my own enthusiasm. The basic idea of the isolated moment, which only happens once, motivates me. Therefore the analog medium is also my favourite. The nerve that is ingrained in pressing the shutter and waiting patiently for the development of the rewarding feeling and situation is fundamental. I do not want to manipulate or construct, but rather document. It should be the raw rendering or none at all.

This series is a visualization, of my first encounter with the country of Japan. It was photographed during the journey from Osaka in the west to Tokyo in the east, 2017. I observe and encapsulate moments, often with an observant distance. I do not imagine that I can capture a culture with my photographs, but I experience and try to understand through my camera. There is always an interplay between human beings and their environment. For me, it's about context and contrast. To frame the small stories that unfold in the larger tangle. It's a special thing, because I react to what catches my eye and it's really a very personal thing. It's just important to me that every single picture opens the door ajar for a story and that it leaves a feeling.
Besides my unreserved fascination and infatuation with the country. The journey left me with a sense of a complex symbiosis between calm and tensity. www.mathiasstromfeldt.com

Solenne Spitalier

Feb 24

Feb 24 Solenne Spitalier

Wide Open | In ‘Wide Open’, Solenne Spitalier creates a world that is familiar yet disorientating. Examining themes of longing, touch, and care, her quiet images amplify and unravel mundane moments that become a site for healing and intimacy. Memory, trauma, and reconstruction of childhood have informed her approach to making these photographs, searching to make visible the disillusionment with what is expected early on and what is given, and the self-destructive tendencies that hold us back from accepting care.

The emotional and physical are intertwined to create a potent search for freedom. A recurring glow and warm colors are juxtaposed with flatter lighting and cooler tones. They work together to create a tension between moments of contact and moments of isolation. www.solennespitalier.com

Feb 15

Feb 15 Juan Sánchez

PANADELLA | When a road disappears, what happens to the place it leads to? Does it get lost or does it continue to exist? Does it become a corpse, a memory, a new place, or everything at once?

"Panadella", which means "place to stop", explores an old enclave of services to the traveler that was very successful in the past. Located on a road that for years was a main one, it currently remains on a secondary highway as a living cultural vestige.

The series shows the pulse of a place against what seems inevitable. It investigates the existential tension and the dissolution of a place that has lost its status and its identity because of being displaced by technology. "Panadella" delves into a charismatic location from a supposedly extinct era that nevertheless survives on the outskirts. www.sanchezsanchez.net