Modern Photographers / O

The swimming hole only varies in size each season from about 20 to 40 square feet, but the range in human experience within this small area is remarkable. I have been photographing my fellow cold water plungers at the same swimming hole (a slightly different one each winter) since 2022. In this small space, there is both stillness and silliness. There is pain and joy and peace. The variety of human experience and expression I have captured in this limited area seems to expand beyond its boundaries.

The Intertidal Project delves into the concept that there’s a difference between what we see and what we are aware of. The work records the moments of impact when a person, time, and place intersect leaving an indelible imprint upon them both. With each recurring instance new layers of memory are forged like geological strata. By growing conscious of these cumulative memories, we can reveal the unfolding of time.

Over her fifteen-year photographic career, Julia has navigated seismic shifts in her artistic trajectory, moving from travel photography toward contemporary art. The upheavals of the early 2020s profoundly altered her creative path. What began as an outward gaze turned inward, catalyzing a transformation in both process and purpose, driven by a search for meaning within uncertainty. Her work examines identity, perception, and the shifting nature of reality and memory.

This images are a part of a photographic reportage about the small ethnic group of Mundari. The Mundari are cattle herders of South Sudan, the world's youngest country, who dedicate their lives to the care of their Ankole Watusi cattle, characterized by their large horns. They live in symbiosis with their cattle and nothing is more important for them than their bovines. In a cattle camp, everyone plays their role.

Near the end of WWII, weakened by six years of extreme hunger, slave labor, and Typhus, my mother was liberated from Majdanek, a barbarous Nazi extermination camp where as many as 360,000, mostly fellow Jews, were brutally murdered. She made her way back to her former home in Radom Poland in search of fellow survivors and family. At great risk, she reentered her pre-war family home now occupied by uncooperative Poles, to reclaim a set of candlesticks and a few meters of peach charmeuse fabric from her former livelihood as a lingerie seamstress.

Roving circuses, in one form or another, have been enthralling cities and towns throughout the United States since the late 18th century. Despite the emergence of sophisticated, high-tech shows in the 20th century, a contingent of more modest regional companies preserve many of the age-old traditions. These circuses, where multi-talented crews appear under a canvas tent and feature acts illuminated by a single spotlight. Traveling from town to town these enterprises eke out just enough profit to survive the season. We owe these circuses a debt of gratitude, for it is they who maintain the essence of the past while adapting to the present. The Flynn Creek Circus, documented here, is one such special survivor. I am fortunate that my small northern California town has been a stop on their circuit every year for the past eight years. During this time, I have gotten to know many of the performers and have been warmly welcomed into their 'back-stage' lives.

This is the latest, or should that be, this morning’s chosen photos for my Portfolio in 10 A small portfolio that says “this is how I take photos” is a very elusive beast. But I think it is a good exercise for us photographers to try to put together.

War exposes the fragility of those least able to protect themselves. Hardship has touched everyone in Ukraine, yet older generations bear a particularly heavy weight — people whose entire lives have already been shaped by historical upheaval. This is a generation that survived Stalinist terror, industrialization, the Second World War, postwar hunger and reconstruction, the collapse of the Soviet Union and the turmoil of economic reforms. They learned to endure almost anything. But even their resilience has limits.

In this evocative 2025 series, internationally acclaimed British photographer Emmanuel Cole turns his lens toward the Purim celebrations in Stamford Hill, one of London’s most distinctive Jewish neighborhoods. The project marks a return to Cole’s first photographic passion: documenting the unseen or rarely observed communities of his native city with sensitivity, curiosity, and respect.