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Alison Zavos

David_Rochkind_Photography

A young girl walks by a caravan of police vehicles during a security sweep looking for criminals and drug dealers. Law enforcement officials along the border say that increased border security has resulted in more drugs staying in Mexico, which has elevated crime and created a variety of social problems. The consequences of this conflict are felt, and exhibited, throughout the daily lives of many communities in Mexico.

Heavy Hand, Sunken Spirit documents the social costs and consequences of Mexico’s violent drug war. We recently talked to Detroit-born, Haiti-based photographer David Rochkind about his experience photographing a conflict that he says is increasingly “melting two worlds together, making a singular Mexico defined as much by violence and tension as by history and culture.”

How long did you work on this project? Did you live in Mexico the entire time you were working on this series?
“I started the project in 2007 with a trip to Nogales, Sonora. At the time I was living in Caracas, Venezuela and didn’t know the exact shape that the project would take. In 2009 I decided to move to Mexico City to be able to work on the project more consistently and with more depth. The last images I shot for this were in 2011.”

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This stretch of the border divides Nogales, Arizona at left and Nogales, Sonora at right. There has been little violent spillover into the US, though recently US citizens have been killed with more frequency in Mexico. In March of 2010, two US Consulate workers were gunned down in Ciudad Juarez.

It looks like you had an incredible level of access. Can you talk about how you came across most of your shots/subjects?
“Every situation required a different approach, but the most important thing is just to be kind to people. You have to make sure that the people you are working with understand that they are not simply props in a tableau that you are creating; that you are not only interested in them to the extent that they can help you make an interesting picture. I found that people are usually open if you are honest with them and are truly interested in the story they have to tell.”

David_Rochkind_Photography

Members of a Norteño band sit in their tour bus after giving a show in Mexico City. Many Norteño groups sing corridos, or ballads, that tell a story. Some of these are narco-corridos, ballads that tell the stories of famous drug dealers. There has been a wave of killings of musicians that sing narco-corridos.

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Followers of La Santa Muerte, or Saint Death, attend a mass that takes place on the first day of every month. Many drug dealers and criminals follow Santa Muerte, as it is believed that she looks after those that the Catholic Church rejects. Saint Death is one part of a broad Narco Culture that is emerging in Mexico.

You started this project in 2008. How do you think the situation in Mexico (in the cities where you were photographing) has changed since then?
“In the years that I was working on this and living in Mexico I did see the situation change. On my first trip to Nogales, for example, people were just barely starting to talk about the violence and its effect on the community. But over the years, in the north and beyond, the violence and the number of deaths grew. It became a constant presence on the TV and in the newspapers and peoples lives were altered by it.”

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Members of the Mexican army burn a field of Marijuana in the state of Sinaloa. Mexico was once primarily a transit route for drugs to the United States, but the country is increasingly becoming a producer of marijuana, cocaine, heroin and methamphetimines.

I imagine that you put yourself in some pretty compromising situations in order to make these photographs. Can you talk a bit about how you were able to make these images without being harmed?
“You always have to determine what level of risk you are willing to take. I think the most important thing is to understand that you are working in a potentially dangerous situation and you are not immune to that. It is important to do research before you go so you can understand what the potential dangers are and how to minimize them. I almost always worked with local contacts and journalists who better understood the situation on the ground and could help me navigate it. And if something ever felt too dangerous, even if I couldn’t say exactly why, I would leave. It is important to trust your instincts.”

David_Rochkind_Photography

Drug use and drug addiction has risen over the past 5 years, bringing with it a variety of social problems that the country will be dealing with long after the violence ends. As security on the border tightened more drugs remained in Mexico allowing the cartels to create a homegrown market. In addition, small time dealers have been increasingly paid with product instead of money. Here, a woman shoots heroin in front of her lover and a baby they are supposed to be caring for.

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A pregnant 14 year old girl was shot in Ciudad Juarez. Her father and 2 siblings have also been killed, leaving behind a grieving family trying to make sense of their new reality.

What were some of the more memorable moments you experienced while making this work?
“I was especially struck by some of the personal stories of loss that I heard. If you spend enough time covering the conflict in Mexico you are bound to witness truly heartbreaking things—children killed at a birthday party by masked gunmen, a pregnant teenager shot and killed in the street, or a man killed while waiting in his car at a traffic light.

“So much horror was happening and, in some cases, perhaps by necessity, it seemed like the violence became a seamless part of people’s lives. But amidst all of this, you still found warmth, generosity and beauty. I remember a group of migrants offering me food and water on top of a train as we all headed north. They knew that I was American, had an expensive camera and probably had a wad of cash in my pocket and could get off the train at any time, but they were still looking out for me and offering to share the little that they had.”

David_Rochkind_Photography

Central American migrants ride atop a freight train carrying cement as they head north in an attempt to enter the US. Traveling by train has become more dangerous as kidnappings and robberies have risen in recent years with increased drug cartel activity.

Your book, Heavy Hand, Sunken Spirit: Mexico at War, was released in 2012. How did you know when this work was complete and ready for publication?
“It is hard to know exactly when any work is complete. The issue doesn’t end and you never finish telling the story of every angle of the issue. But there does come a point when you have told the story you wanted to tell in a way that has a beginning and an end, and that really shows what you saw and felt.”

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A man who has just been returned to Mexico after trying to illegally enter the US stands right across the border at a Mexican customs and immigration office in Nogales, Sonora.

As you are currently based in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, do you find many similarities between the ongoing situation there and what you found in Mexico?
“The issues that people are dealing with on a daily basis really are quite different in Haiti. There is extreme poverty, public health disasters and a total lack of infrastructure. But I find that in many places there are several overarching themes that remain the same—corruption, lack of educational opportunity and lack of economic opportunity.”

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A prostitute undresses in a short-term love motel in Nogales, Sonora, where she entertains both American and Mexican customers. The drug cartels have been increasingly diversifying their business into prostitution and human trafficking.

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Two young men are arrested for burglary in Mexico City, Mexico. Violent crime throughout Mexico is rising. The intimidation and reach of the drug cartels affects witnesses, police and lawyers, many of whom are afraid to get involved with any type of criminal trial. Impunity throughout the country is spreading.

You mention that for people of Mexico the scars will linger on long after the violence subsides. In your opinion, what must be done/what will it take for the violence to subside?
“I really don’t know. It is a difficult question and not one that I set out to answer. It is important to deal with the issues of corruption, education and jobs, but I don’t know if that is enough or everything.”

via A Photo Editor

The-black-seaThe Black Sea photographed by Gareth Phillips

The topic for the next Feature Shoot online group show will be beach vacation photos.

Photographers are invited to submit images and captions to:
submissions@featureshoot.com

Up to five images can be submitted (480 pixels wide, 72 dpi, saved for web under 65kb). The deadline for submissions is April 15, 2013.

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Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne Levin captures all things ocean—freedivers, surfers, whales, dolphins, seals, sharks, rays, and shipwrecks—and that’s just a short list of his exquisite subjects. Exploring the mysterious depths of the underwater world has been an ongoing passion for the Hawaii-based photographer for more than 20 years, and he has done so working with black-and-white, a detail that seems to enhance the beauty and secrets of the sea.

Selected prints from Ocean Spirits are available through Clic Gallery.

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

Wayne-Levin underwater photography

robert_rutoedPhoto: Robert Rutoed

photoville fence


Photo: Haolun Li


Photo: Ronan Gallagher


Photo: Adrian Øhrn Johansen


Photo: Ann Mitchell


Photo: Stefan Hobmaier


Photo: Joseph Corrado


Photo: Amanda Friedman


Photo: Simon James


Photo: Gabriela Herman


Photo: Sean Lotman


Photo: Ben Roberts


Photo: Shawn Koh


Photo: Scott Brownell


Photo: Samuel Goldstein


Photo: Fernando Martins


Photo: Damien Rayuela


Photo: Tash Ford


Photo: Susie Tsang


Photo: Rickett and Sones


Photo: Natalya Marquand


Photo: Rana Young


Photo: Riley Snelling


Photo: Carsten Heisterkamp


Photo: Christian Gendron


Photo: Mikael Vejdemo Johansson


Photo: Nika Zbasnik


Photo: Matt Capowski


Photo: Mark Yaggie


Photo: Magali Duzant


Photo: Lou Mora


Photo: Lisa Jones


Photo: Gregor Servais


Photo: Lauren Grabelle


Photo: Linka A Odom


Photo: Khoo Guo Jie


Photo: Leo Farrell


Photo: Paul Perton


Photo: Hollis Bennett


Photo: Jose Mandojana


Photo: Porter Gifford


Photo: Joe Wigdahl


Photo: Helen K. Garber


Photo: Henrik Emtkjær Hansen


Photo: Daniel Porter


Photo: Heidi Romano


Photo: Jacqui Chan


Photo: Gabriella Hasslinger


Photo: Florian Rainer


Photo: Darren Edwards


Photo: Andreas Hopfgarten


Photo: Brad Scruggs


Photo: John Wellings


Photo: Taylor Poulin


Photo: Andreas Jakwerth

*This show was curated from reader submissions.

Matt_Rainwaters_PhotographyThis just goes to show that sometimes the most interesting portraits at music festivals are not of rocks stars. ‘Pit security’, which would be a great name for a band, was shot by Matt Rainwaters at Fun Fun Fun Fest in Austin, TX.

Justine_Kurland_photography

I took Casper on his first road trip when he was three-months old and by the time he was one we managed to stay out most of each year for the next five years of his life. On the one hand it was the most beautiful way to be together: nestled under down comforters in the back of a van with all our worldly possessions packed in around us; among redwood trees where we would build forts in the hollows and make soup from their needles; finding star fish in the pacific ocean and collecting the many glass jars that might spill insect specimens were our car to hit a sudden bump; climbing rocks in the desert; climbing trees in the forest… It was also the most brutal way to try to be a mother, trapped together alone for months on end while struggling with him to let me make work.

His being penetrated every part of my consciousness and of my working process. It changed what I photographed and how I photographed. The work became less directed and more prayed for, each picture a kind of miracle, a ghost gleaned from somewhere out there in the American landscape and I was forever being pulled back by Casper. I remember yelling at him once in total frustration, “Jeff Wall doesn’t have to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the middle of his photo shoots.” He at age four replied, “Oh yeah, what else does Jeff Wall not have to do?”

Casper grew up on the road. He believed it was normal. He believed other mamas were loading sheet film at McDonald’s. He believed other kids lived in vans and played with rocks as their parents composed scenes. Once he woke up sweetly from a nap in his car seat and said, “Where are we mama? Are we shopping for views?” People often thought we were homeless, sometimes offering food or money. Our migration took a southern route in the winter and a northern route in the summer. While my wanderlust was insatiable, Casper’s tendency was towards routine and predictability.

To accommodate this I created a bubble around our life in the van. I made a play tent for him, sawed off the legs of a card table to set up his toys the same at each new campsite where he spent hours trapped there playing with trains first and Legos later.

Often the moments I photographed him were not the loving moments of a mother gazing at her child but of a prisoner glaring at her guard. Casper feeling the intensity of everything I needed out of a photograph, shied from it, so I learned to bribe and extort photographs from him. His favorite pose was to place his hand in front of his face but he later learned more subtle forms of protest contorting his body inward as I bore down upon him with a scalding lens.

He also eventually rejected the nature boy role I cast for him; preferring the signage along the road (where he learned to read), cars (he drew and memorized car logos) and the strip malls that have homogenized the American roadside landscape (the Denny’s and Walmarts being a special treat from the forests where we camped).

At a primitive skills gathering Casper wanted to bring a glow stick to the campfire. I explained that no one would appreciate it because it was made of plastic and filled with chemicals and because they were trying to do things a natural way. He at age five said, “But they have cars and tents.”

Last year we got off the road and I put Casper into public school. We had reached a point where I was all he had and it could never be enough. The war between parenting and photography became too intense. So this past road trip was our last together.

Driving down some bit of highway I remember wondering (as I often do) if it was all worth it: torturing Casper, his dad and myself in order to make work. Thinking out loud I said, “I don’t know why I do it. I don’t know why I’m a photographer,” and Casper at age six responded, “Mama you are a photographer so you can go on road trips.” As if to say, I forgive you.—Justine Kurland

Justine Kurland is a fine art photographer based in New York. The short essay above is excerpted from the book, How We Do Both: Art and Motherhood.

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Justine_Kurland_photography

Justine_Kurland_photography

Justine_Kurland_photography

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Justine_Kurland_photography

Katharina Bosse

After living in New York for six years, photographer Katharina Bosse moved to Germany and became pregnant. In the next five years she would have two children and embark on this series of self-portraits, “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mother,” in which she was compelled to “undress (or dress up) and create images of motherhood I had not seen before.” The interview below is excerpted from the book, How We Do Both: Art and Motherhood.

Katharina Bosse

How do you logistically balance art making and motherhood?
“I have always been persistent in carving out niches to create art in my life but when the children were young and often sick in the winter, it was hard to find time at all. I remember one winter when I could not work in the studio for months because I could not leave the children alone in the apartment. I started doing small-scale, abstract paintings on the table in the kitchen after bedtime. As a photographer, painting was totally new for me. Yet I was starving for the feeling of color and unlike film, paintings don’t need to be developed. I needed to make work I could do at home while the children were sleeping. I also photographed a series of flower still life on the living room floor. The work you do when the children are sleeping, it could be an art category all to itself.”

Katharina Bosse

Does your art making require a “room of one’s own”?
“I have always needed a room just for creating art, whether it was a shared space or my own exclusively. I own a color processor and do my own printing. I do my office and organizational work at home, so the studio space is reserved for creating and storing of images. It is a safe place in which images can be developed and kept until they are mature enough to go out into the world on their own.

“I have put some effort into relocating my studio space to a place on the corner from my apartment, which is also close to school. The children can come to the studio by themselves after school. I can work in the evening and if they call me, I will be home in a minute. There is a little backyard by the studio where they can play for an hour if I need to finish something.

“In order to create a project about Motherhood, I needed: studio space, money (quite a bit because the images are large-scale), and childcare so I could work without interruptions. In order to create an art project about Mothering, I actually needed time and space that was Mothering-free. Doesn’t this sound funny?”

Katharina Bosse

Did having children enhance your creativity?
“I had my first child at the age of thirty-six. I had well established my working practice as an artist and photographer by then. I was very creative and productive in my thirties. Back then I wondered how having children would fit into a lifestyle centered around work. Having children made traveling and shooting long hours more difficult. I am less visible now; I have to choose more carefully which art events to go to, which people to meet. Motherhood forced me to be more patient, working in smaller increments at a time. The series “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mother”, which deals with the transition into motherhood, became a long-term, multi-layered project. It is personal, political and less marketable than my previous work.

“Looking at my children, I sometimes see them performing surrealist tableaus—this could be an inspiration but I have not managed so far to turn these visions into art.

“On a deeper level, I am, as a photographer, someone watching the world. As an artist, I am shaping my pictures. As a mother, I have to watch and shape my children’s lives, but I also have to let things happen. I have to be passive and supportive, sometimes enduring. This was a big transition for me. For an artist, it helps to have a big ego. As a mother, not so much. As much as I struggle with these contradictions, I could never imagine not being a mother anymore. It would be like living in a world lacking one dimension—it would seem flat. Although I remember, when I did not have the children, the world was round and exciting, not flat at all. It’s a strange transition… this motherhood.

“The love for my children feels incredibly true and grounding. I need to take care of them and also myself. We keep regular schedules, we eat and sleep sensibly. I cannot allow myself to dive into too much manic energy. I miss that sometimes but it feels good to raise my little tribe. The children call to me the same way my images do, but louder. Nurturing them makes me feel at home. Still, whenever I get a break, I take off into the strange worlds of my own mind, in which my images are waiting to be brought into life. And if these breaks don’t happen, I fight for them.”

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art-and-motherhood

I never feel as if I’m actually succeeding at achieving a balance between art making and motherhood and I struggle with constant low-level anxiety about the choices I make from hour-to-hour and day-to-day. I had a major epiphany when I realized that it is impossible to be both the mother I want to be and the artist I want to be. Both are full-time occupations and if you throw in needing make a living (which really does inhabit third place for me, emotionally) then all bets are off. So the most important ingredient in the balancing act has been to accept and embrace that I will fail. This realization has been incredibly liberating. —Marina Berio

Finding a balance between work and home is something that most all new working mothers struggle with. Yes, there are many mom blogs out there giving advice on how to juggle a career and family responsibilities, but how does this sense of “balance” come into play when one is a fine art photographer? The book, How We do Both: Art and Motherhood edited by Michi Jigarjian and Qiana Mestrich and published by Secretary Press ($18) asks three questions of the 12 artists that are included:

1. How do you logistically balance art making and motherhood?
2. Does your art making require a “room of one’s own”?
3. Did having children enhance your creativity?

How We do Both: Art and Motherhood is a quick, entertaining read but one that really resonates as the artists who are interviewed are brutally honest about their experiences. And as a new mother, it’s refreshing to hear about some of the unconventional ways these women are carving out time to think creatively and make art while juggling the demands of raising children.

Over the next few days, we will be running two of the essays from the book along with work from the photographers Katharina Bosse and Justine Kurland.

Peter-HoffmanPhoto: Peter Hoffman

The topic for the next Feature Shoot online group show will be photos of foggy landscapes.

Photographers are invited to submit images and captions to:
submissions@featureshoot.com

Up to five images can be submitted (480 pixels wide, 72 dpi, saved for web under 65kb). The deadline for submissions is March 22, 2013.