featured projects

“Now, in the midst of 2020, it feels like listening to that same song on repeat—but in complete isolation. You already mentally connected each word of that song to every single object around you. There are no more connections to make. The associative array has exhausted itself.”

“I live in Northern California which has recently suffered unprecedented fierce fires, smoke filled skies and some of the world’s unhealthiest air. In those rare moments when the air is considered healthy, I enjoy going to less crowded outdoor locations where there is ample space for social distancing. The kite park is one of my favorite destinations.”

“Chlorophyll prints are photographs printed directly on leaves using ultraviolet light from the sun. Exposures take days or weeks and the resulting image is fragile and will eventually fade away or crumble to dust.

This project became a visual portrayal of my journey with bipolar while at the epicenter of the global pandemic. Trapped inside my small apartment, I would venture outside for relief but it couldn’t be found. - Rebecca Fudala

Walk Through it Lightly is a deeply personal and poetic collection of images by photographer Nicole Marie shot during the pandemic in Geelong, Victoria, Australia.

House, Hold is a collaborative body of work created with my wife, Jackie, during shelter-in-place. Together we made a photograph every day for the month of May, looking at how we negotiate home, our roles, and power at this time. Since 2018, I've been collaborating with others on a series called New Domesticity where I've been making photographs of what home looks like in our current day. Unable to continue that work, I turned the camera inward on my own home and examined all that is quirky, vulnerable, and beautiful within our relationship and domestic space. - Lois Bielefeld

Girls Can’t Skate spotlights an all-female and non-binary skateboarding community in New York City. By exploring these women’s shared passion and resilience, it celebrates female empowerment in contrast to the machismo culture and normalized violence against women that plagues much of the world. These women are challenging barriers of the traditionally male-dominated sport at a historic moment for skateboarding, which will be part of the next Olympic Games.

Before the world changed, I spent my day-to-day working in professional theatre as a stage manager. The stage manager is the glue between the artists in a production – the one who helps people communicate with one another, the one who provides much of the logistical and emotional support that allows story-telling and art-making to happen. When the pandemic hit and all live entertainment shut down, I was not only suddenly unemployed, but that daily access to story was taken too.

The idea of safety feels so different now. The boundaries I created to secure my space can no longer fully protect us. Covid_19 can gain uninvited access into our private lives.

The subjects exist each as their own range of intellectual knowledge and individual reactions to the pandemic. Some individuals almost seem lost in that dream while others seem to carry the weight of this intellectual knowledge quite heavily. I wanted a sense of intimacy simultaneously to exist with a sense of loneliness.

My work as a photographer is almost inseparable from my own inner-work. Healing, digging through trauma, and exploring my inner psyche has been made accessible to me by photography, and photography is made possible by the work I do on my own mind and body. As someone who has undergone misguided medical treatment for years and lived within a chronically ill body for my entire life, I have turned to self-portraiture as a way to reclaim my own narrative …

“Like so many others around the country I felt compelled to take part in the protests that were sparked by the murder of George Floyd. I remember watching the video in the backseat of my partner’s car as feelings of rage and deep sadness came over me...”

“I start to seek people at a distance, from windows and terraces, desperately seeking humanity and life in the midst of an empty landscape, like a hunter in search of prey. Any contact, even at a distance, makes me feel better, less isolated, keeps me sane.”

“I’ve long explored distance, as well as the limitations of, and possibilities for, connection, intimacy and vulnerability between individuals in relationships. While sheltering in place in Oakland, CA, I began photographing my childhood friend, Lindsay, who lives across the country in Maine. With my camera, through Zoom and our computer screens, I attempt to capture her experience sheltering in place as a new mother feeling confined to a small space both physically and mentally. My hope was to collapse the physical distance between us through mutual conversation and empathy.”

At Home in the World? Mediating Borders by Krishna Goswami reveals dance artist-scholar Suparna Banerjee’s life in the USA while stranded as all the international flights are suspended due to a sudden announcement of a COVID-19 lockdown.

“Racism is a persistent infection in the soul of America. No one wants to tackle or confront this malignancy that affects everyone. Yes, everyone. The same issues take the lives of black people as took them in 1619. There have been opportunities to end the less than human treatment of Blacks in America; but each time we reach that precipice, we back away and choose the path of least resistance, and thereby fall back into a hole, a trap that captures and holds hostage our humanity and destroys our Nation bit by bit.”

“We are fighting two pandemics simultaneously: Coronavirus and Racism. The risk we take out in the streets now, fighting for justice is worth the consequences we face. White allies understand that this fight is not about black vs. white, it’s about everyone vs. racists. They have chosen to shed the comforting cloak of comfortability, to join Black people and affirm BLACK LIVES DO MATTER! Black people, who always have to edit and adjust themselves in white spaces for others, have never known this comfort.”

“This garden is my haven, and spring made my home bloom. We live together with nature.”

“In a place so perfectly preserved though, where so many of the details are completely and deliberately untouched, any change, even an unintentional one like a tree falling down, feels tectonic. So my search for the comfort of familiarity also yielded the opposite emotion. Everything had changed.”

“In this time of Covid-19, I sleep alone. Filled with fear, I stare fretfully at the ceiling. At this late hour, there is no one to call, all the lines are dead and the buses have stopped running.”

“I listen to my mom and neighbor talk about cutting down these giants that have stood in my yard since well before we moved in. I let their chatter float over me, pretend that their words are like the language of the birds, unintelligible.”

“Sometimes as I’m working I think back to what my grandfather experienced as an immigrant coming over from Greece with nothing other than what he was holding…”

“I use fire as an element to represent limbo because it can simultaneously represent creation/destruction or purification/corruption.”