Marche Dauphine located in the 18th arrondissement is known as one of Paris’ best known antique market. Antiques several hundred years old are displayed and sold at this most rare of old world markets.
For me photography is a spiritual act, an inner conviction and a desire to abstract essence beyond the material world. I’m interested in something which is built up from within, rather than just a superficial image.
The Latin word for Intellect is Animus, Animus is defined as: character, intellect, memory, consciousness, often mind. An intrepid sleuth, Liam Lynch endures whatever extremes he must to capture the story he is bound to tell us in his photographs.
Imagine setting up a studio under the surface of the sea. To capture this body of work Lynch composed each image under water then with the help of an assistant diver holding a backdrop and specialised underwater lighting
I define myself as a storyteller. I tell stories through whimsical, surreal images. Everytime I create an image in relation to a feeling, thought or situation, a burden has been lifted off my shoulders, my soul smiles.
My father has been sick since I was a child. Though never close when I was little when my parents divorced I was aged 14, my brother and myself became the next of kin on the hospital forms. Over the past 9 years, we have taken him too and from hospitals, doctors appointments, specialists.
Ian Flandres first visited Phnom Penh, Cambodia in 2011 where he stumbled across a young street-prostitute prospecting along the Mekong River. After a brief discussion he became struck and ultimately haunted by the look of despair and desolation in her eyes.
Growing up, I was lucky enough to spend a couple of years driving around Australia with my mum, dad and sister. Naturally, I fell in love with the outdoors and still feel a strong connection with everything this incredible country has to offer.
The setting is rural Japan in the middle of the night. The 100-year-old house stands nestled between mountains, bamboo, rice paddies and the sea. It is made of wood and filled with tatami mats and screens. Time passes slowly.
In 2011, photographer Christopher Morris returned to Central North Mexico, capturing the banality of the everyday and giving it a sense of dignity. In his forthcoming exhibition, Yo No Hablo Español (I Don’t Speak Spanish), he reveals the resolute pride of landscapes and life in a parched Mexico rarely glimpsed.