Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Q & A with John Maclean

John Maclean is a photographer based in London, and the author of the recent book Hometowns.


BA: How did you decide which artists to include in Hometowns?

JM: I sat down and made a list of twenty artists who I consider to be my… mentors-by-proxy —that is, artists whose work I go back to again and again when I feel stuck or I am looking for inspiration. I haven’t necessarily met these artists in person, but I feel that I know them (somehow) through their work. And their work has influenced mine.

How did you go about photographing the hometowns? Did it require a lot of exploration or did you have a certain place or theme in mind? What was the process?

Initially, the process involved researching as much biographical information on each artist as possible, whilst refreshing my memory of the artworks which had prompted me to travel to their hometowns. Before setting off, I explored each neighbourhood using Google StreetView —to scout for locations. I was looking for places which might provide clues to the development of the young artist —although what I am constructing here is a kind of ‘fantasy documentary’. I’m not suggesting that, for example, the stack of car tires I eventually photographed in Robert Rauschenberg’s hometown played a direct part in his artistic development. 

Hometown of Robert Rauschenberg, Port Arthur, Texas

I spent three to five days in each location trying to make what is essentially a photo-homage but at the same time, trying to make images that had my own personal, photographic imprint on them too. So even though time-consuming research was undertaken, I wanted to allow myself room to react to both chance occurrences and the uniqueness of each place too.

Where's your own hometown?

I think of my hometown as Montreal—it's where I spent my formative years... but my parents took my sister and I out of school for almost a year during that period to drive around the US. I think that trip shaped me a great deal.

What years did you spend in Montreal? Have you gone back to photograph there?

Ages six to ten. I was there in 1976—the year of the Olympics. But this was before I began taking photographs and I haven't been back since.

Do you think Montreal had any effect?

I remember that as kids growing up in Montreal we weren't allowed to wander off our block, so that's where we created our little world. We tried to have as many adventures as possible within that limited geographical area. Creating frozen 'lakes' in the backyard during winter, that sort of thing: using what we had at hand to create new games and avoid being bored. So perhaps what Montreal winters gave me, and it’s something I take pride in as a photographer, is being able to make something interesting from limited material.

If you were going to treat Yourself/Montreal as a subject in the book, how would you photograph it? What would you look for and how would you photograph it to express your 'fantasy documentary'?

I think the best approach would be to go back and see what memories were triggered. That would be much more interesting than to try and preplan anything. See what falls into place and just react.

One premise that I draw from your book is that the childhood hometown of an artist can shape that person's later creative development. Do you think that's an accurate assessment? Or is the book more about you and your contemporary experience in those places?

I think it can have a huge effect, but of course, the childhood experiences within that environment are important too. At that age we are absorbing and processing everything around us and it shapes who we become in later life. But I'm not suggesting that these particular places were the reason their inhabitants became artists… just that the places (perhaps) influenced the art they made in later life. In my fantasy-documentary I'm imagining how these lives and personalities might have taken shape. And yes, my direct experience of each place influenced the images I made too; I wanted a layer of my own responses to be in the mix.

Was there anything you noticed as you traveled to these 24 places which they shared in common or which would tend to foster creative development? Or are they just random locations?

The places didn't have anything in common, but every artist I feature in my project wanted to escape their hometown. I gleaned that from reading their biographies.


That's strange. You picked 24 international artists and they all just happened to abandon their hometowns? Is that something artists do as a matter of course? Do any artists stay in they place they grew up? Maybe part of the leap to becoming an artist is shedding your past?

I imagine it's probably quite common for artists to feel ‘out of place’ in their hometowns. Perhaps artists feel a bit ‘out of place’ wherever they are. One question I am asking is: what makes us feel connected with some artists and not others? Could it be that these great artists are able to put something of themselves into their work? Are they able to translate their experiences into images? Is it more than just a coincidence that the artists I chose to feature in my project are linked biographically in certain ways?

There's only one person in the book whose hometown is close to my mine and he's one of my photo idols —Lee Friedlander from Aberdeen. I tend to shoot like him. It's hard to say if that's because we grew up in similar places, or if I've just looked at too many of his pictures. But I've always had a pet theory that his photographic style was molded by the place he was raised. Western Washington is densely forested to the point of claustrophobia, and Friedlander's photographs embody that feeling. They're chock-full with vegetative layers. I wonder if living in a place so thickly forested, he just had to learn to see through stuff. If he'd grown up in Arizona, for example, maybe he'd never shoot that way? Your photos from Aberdeen are nicely Friedlanderish, by the way.



Hometown of Lee Friedlander, Aberdeen, Washington

I like that: ‘learning to see through stuff’. I know that he left his hometown primarily because he loved jazz and that passion for music took him to the big US cities. So I imagined this Friedlander kid, growing up on a farm in a logging town, listening to jazz and longing to be somewhere more vibrant and less predictable. The music he listened to might have brought images to his mind. One of the photographs I took in Aberdeen is of this young guy, lying on the bonnet of his car—he is surrounded by trees but behind a fence; he is looking up at the sky.

I always think of Friedlander as ‘a photographer’s photographer’. What I mean by that is he makes photographs which are able to stand on their own two feet—they don’t require supporting concepts. I highlighted this in my research. In an interview Friedlander describes an early childhood memory—when he asked his father how to fix a lawnmower his father replied: 'just look at it until you understand it.' Later in life, when he was asked to 'explain' his photographs he would use exactly the same response.

Good anecdote. It makes sense. Maybe the next book project should be "Parental portraits of artists"?

I think if anyone makes a list of their artistic heroes and starts digging around in the early parts of their biographies... the overlaps in childhood experiences jump out. I think my Dad would have said something very similar to me, so perhaps that’s why I picked up on that.

OK, so what overlaps did you notice as you visited these places?

I haven't really thought about what the places have in common —my preoccupation has been with what the artists have in common and why I might have chosen them for my list. But looking at the list of places now they do all seem to be backwaters... not hives of creative activity...

That goes back to artists needing to leave their hometown. It raises the question, what about those artists born in New York or Paris or some art hotbed? Are they any? Is that mobility and leaving behind an integral part of becoming an artist? Just wondering out loud...

We spend all our lives exploring, but really we are just trying to get 'home' again.

(insert Thomas Wolfe title here)

Yes!

I’m sure there are just as many artists who grew up in big cities; I think Strand, Klein, Arbus, Shore and Sternfeld are all New Yorkers. I don’t think they were desperate to escape their hometown so perhaps there is something in the work of artists who come from small towns (and who wanted to escape them) that I relate to in particular. Is that a long shot? Perhaps it is, but it’s interesting to speculate.

When I first learned of your book my initial thought was in relation to museum shows. One of the primary pieces of information with any artist on the wall is their year of birth/death, and their hometown (or, to be more accurate, birthplace). So there's apparently something vital in that information. Why do you think museums include hometown as an integral part of captions?

Perhaps because any biographical information adds another layer of interest to the work. Artists try and express something about who they are, how they see the world, and where they have come from —all in an image sometimes. When I watch people wandering around museums I see people not just looking at images but thinking about the artists who made them too.


Wouldn't "current city" be a more relevant piece of information?

Not for me. I am more interested in where they grew up. Robert Rauschenberg's childhood home still exists in Port Arthur, Texas. I sat on the front steps and just let my imagination go back eighty years, wondering what factors might have shaped such a huge body of work.

In understanding an artist, how relevant do you think birth/death years are? I mean not the specific year but general lifespan dates.

 The artists featured in my project do share very similar lifespan dates. If you ask someone to list the artists they feel most connected to, or have a great understanding of—they frequently choose artists who lived in their own lifetime. I think this comes down to a recognition of shared feelings and experiences which is evident in the work.

Aside from Friedlander there are several other artists whose hometowns you depict in a style which is fairly representative. Ruscha, Turrell, Baldessari, and Baltz are a few that jumped out at me. 


Hometown of Ed Ruscha, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

I think of my photographs as being made through the 'afterimage' of each artist's work. Because I can't deny that every new image I make is an accumulation of other images I have seen. 

It was a fun exercise for me to browse the book while ignoring the artist info, to see if I could guess which artist you were channeling. I think the book's design helps foster this method because you include that info as a side note in the gatefold.

Yes, the information is there if you need it, but it can also be ignored. 

The book's overall design is quite original. What was the design process? 



The first thing to say here is that I worked with a great designer: Wayne Daly. 

The book’s hardback cover is gatefolded so that an index of the artists’ names and hometown locations can be referred to by the viewer (if they feel it’s necessary) as they turn the pages of the book. In the book dummies we made, the index was either at the front or back of the book—which meant the viewer had to go back and forth to access the information. I took the dummy to portfolio reviews to test these early designs and found they didn’t work well—the suspense or anticipation I sought was just replaced by frustration. So testing the book dummy with an audience was essential to the design process.

The paired letters on the cover of the book are the initials of the artists whose hometowns I photographed. But they are printed with a transparent spot varnish—so they appear and disappear as you tilt the book. This is a self-published book, so both Wayne Daly and I were trying to incorporate design elements which a mainstream publisher might think too… risky because they were too subtle? We both wanted a book which would reveal itself to the viewer over time, and the design plays a key part in that. 

Some of the most interesting photos in the book are those with post-exposure manipulation which make the viewer question what's happening. I think they're very effective in a context of unmanipulated photos. How did you decide which photos to alter and how to manipulate them?

I decided from the get-go that I wouldn’t use a blanket approach to photograph each hometown: I wanted to photograph each place in a way that would reflect something unique in the artist’s life or work.


Hometown of Robert Cumming, Mattapan, Massachusetts

One of the photographers featured in my series is Robert Cumming; your phrase to ‘make the viewer question what's happening’ immediately brings his work to mind because (broadly) his photography addresses the mechanics of human perception. Both photographs I made in his hometown have post-exposure manipulations because I wanted to reference the ironic and absurd ‘reversals of expectations’ that are present in Robert’s work. Even though Cumming was working in the 1970s I think his work looks very contemporary today: it was made before Photoshop existed so the effects he achieves are the result of cutting negatives then drawing and painting on them—I felt his spirit of adventure gave me license to do anything… to try something new.

John Gossage’s photographs are, above all, those I have struggled most to find my way past (artistically). I imitated them for a long period during my time as a student. So I photographed his hometown using corrupted flash cards and then further erased each scene using post-production; I’m acknowledging Gossage’s artistic influence on myself whilst erasing it, in the way that Rauschenberg erased a De Kooning drawing. But I’m also reacting to circumstance: I arrived on Staten Island the day before a polar vortex blew through—when I woke up on the first day to shoot, the place seemed almost erased by snow-whiteness anyway.


Hometown of John Gossage, Staten Island, New York

I'm curious about your use of corrupted flash cards. I know you used this in an earlier project too, and it's an interesting area for me. I think the idea of failure and mistakes is pretty integral to art, but tough to harness. What are your thoughts about mistakes/failure? Are they important in your photography? Is it a common thread among your art heroes?

I can see how rapidly my own photography has progressed since I started shooting digitally—for exactly that reason—I was able to make more mistakes... thousands of them…


But when I was a student of photography (back in the day) our tutors gave us only ten sheets of film to use each week (that was the discipline)… so we could only take ten shots. That didn't work for me. Mistakes are integral to human evolution and I don’t see why artistic evolution is any different. 

Not all of the photographers featured in my project are well known. You may not be familiar with the British photographer Raymond Moore’s work—it’s not really talked about today and his books are out of print. But he embraced the accidental in his photographs by using double exposures, and he was fascinated by the unpredictable layering effect of shooting through reflections in windows. So I’ve used a digital means of image-layering because I want to reflect my interest in working in that serendipitous spirit too. 

Which photo class was that? Back in the film era?

I studied photography in Derby (UK). I graduated in 1990. Firmly in the film era. 

Did you begin using 35 mm film too?

Yes, I used to buy those big, round cans that contained 100 feet of film—and cut it into 36 exposure strips myself. I loved my darkroom.


I shoot 35 still partly because it's liberating exposure-wise. I would have a hard time limiting myself to 10 photos per week. But maybe I should try.

I traced some of your books back through your website, and the early ones seem a bit looser project-wise. 48 Recent Photographs, for example. Or 21 Recent Photographs. How do you view those projects now? Does your photography feel more structured?

It definitely feels more structured now. But sometimes I wonder why photography has become so structured and project based, is it some kind of insecurity? Is taking interesting but unconnected photographs now seen as being too easy? 

Do you still make time for unstructured photography outings?

Not any more. The concept is now the engine that drives the work, but I still welcome mistakes that take me in new directions, and allow myself to wander off track. It's a balance. I don't want to be tied down by an idea—so the idea has to be flexible. 

The hometown project strikes a nice balance. You've pinned it to a place and concept, but within that you're pretty open to shoot however you want. I had a similar project a few years back photographing Portland and Eugene systematically in small chunks of map, one per month. It was fun, just the right balance of structure and freedom.

Every artist I feature in my project has produced structured work, but I think the best kind of structure is when the work is just recognizably their own—so that’s the underlying structure. I’m thinking particularly of Eggleston here—he doesn’t have to work within narrow projects or label his work with concepts—his photographs knit together because they are just… obviously his. That's an incredible achievement, I think.



Hometown of Bridget Riley, Padstow, Cornwall

Yes, but also a natural progression. I think anyone that shoots for a years tends to develop a recognizable style. It's like handwriting or a speaking voice. You can't escape it.

I’m not sure I agree. I think there are many photographers who never achieve a style or voice.


If I draw a picture with pencil and paper, it will always look like mine. I think photography may be similar.

Really? But we could take exactly the same picture. The camera’s mechanism is exact and the lens is tyrannical. But if you can bend the camera-machine to your will... you have won! Photography fascinates me in this respect: that we all use the same impersonal tool but the goal is to find ways to personalise it.

I've gone out with friends to photograph together. We walk in the same place at almost the same time. And looking at the resulting photos later, my friends' photos are almost unrecognizable. Where the heck was that thing? Where were you? What made you shoot it that way?

Well, that's great.

This idea gets back to mistakes/failure. On the surface they would seem to defy style, because by definition they are unplanned and uncontrollable. But what you've shown in the book is that they can be harnessed, and maybe that's where some of the real artistic breakthroughs can occur. 

I think artists are good at reframing mistakes so they become opportunities. Mistakes give the artist images that they couldn’t create using their intellect only. William Klein was great at this, I think. His technique of no taboos—use whatever happens—throw away preconceived hierarchies of what is good and bad.

That raises a good question for someone who has just finished a book channeling the style of others. Is there something in this book that's still inherently your style?

I find it difficult to pin down what my style is. But I know it has evolved by looking at work made by others and thinking: that's incredible! How did they do that? And why? Then I try and reverse engineer what they have done, take it apart, change some bits and then put it back together in my own way. I’m interested in trying to get ideas into my photographs but I’m also interested in aesthetics and visual pleasure. Achieving both is where the challenge lies.

I think you do have a recognizable style even if it isn't obvious to you. Part of the fun in the book is seeing your style blend with the styles of your heroes, and try to see whose influences are evident in which photos.

Thank-you, then it works. That’s a relief. Working on this project always felt as though I was walking a tight rope.


After you visited all these hometowns, which one did you enjoy most? Were there any which you'd feel comfortable settling in? Which hometown did you least enjoy?

I tend to photograph in a state of frenzied panic which isn't a fair way to experience any place. But I'd been to Mexico City before and I love it. The people are amazing and it's a city that would confound anyone's expectations. It wouldn’t be a 'comfortable' place to live, but I'd be kept on my toes and I'd value that. 

Which hometown did you least enjoy?

I didn’t enjoy Port Arthur, Texas. At least, I didn’t enjoy photographing it: it seemed that every homeowner had a ferocious dog that would launch itself at me as I walked past (thankfully there was a fence in-between us).

Wait, what? Frenzied panic?

Yes, a constant feeling of 'I can't see anything to photograph here!’ or 'this isn't working and never will!’. Panic! Isn't that normal?


I don't know what normal is. I sometimes take a little while to adjust to my setting and start seeing well. But I wouldn't describe my feeling as frenzied panic. But maybe when you know you have a limited amount of time in a new city there is a certain amount of performance anxiety?

Yes, there is that. But I thrive on that too. The panic creates adrenaline which leads to a heightened sense of awareness.

We could probably trace that feeling back to Montreal :-)

Perhaps we could. It’s fascinating trying to untangle what makes us who we are.

I was born in Berkeley but I consider Briceland my hometown. Any psychologist who knows me and that place could probably create an interesting analysis.

Briceland. I'll have a look on Streetview. 

Saturday, November 5, 2016

The whole thing? I don't know.

Hi R—,

Just wanted to say I saw your photo show yesterday at B— and really enjoyed it. Nice selection. Great series. Good to see in print form.

Hope all is well.

-B


Dear Blake, 
Thank you for coming to see my show. It was good for me to see the work completed and on the wall. As you know it has been hovering over me for some time now.
Life is for the most part good, though M— let me go after 27 years of teaching there last June due to low enrollment across the university and me being a salaried/benefited person, I was on the chopping block. I will go back there in January as an adjunct to teach a couple classes. So life is different and looking for other teaching.
But, of course, pictures, always pictures!!!
I hope life is treating you well,
R—


Hi R—,

Sorry to hear about M—. I really enjoyed those history of photography courses there with you long ago. Sounds like you got a raw deal. 

Photos are happening in spurts. Yesterday was my first non-rainy free afternoon in a while, and I walked up and down some good alleys near campus. Great shadows and leaf forms and mid-Autumn detritus to photograph, but mostly it was just nice being outside in the sun for a little bit. Maybe that's the whole thing. I don't know.

-B 


Dear Blake,
I have always believed being a photographer is a good excuse for taking a walk. I think you have it just right. The world is an amazing place and if you are a visual person, which I wholly believe you are from all the wonder full evidence I've seen, then those walks are heightened by the discoveries you make and attempt to illuminate in a picture.
Take Care and Keep Walking,
R—


Hi R—,

Paraphrasing Mark Twain: "Photography is nothing but a good walk spoiled."

-B


Dear Blake,
One more non-photographer's opinion. What appears from the outside is not what one understands from the inside.
R—

Saturday, October 29, 2016

400 Street Photo Books

Abbas, Return To Mexico
Jun Abe, Citizens
Jun Abe, 1981
Michael Ackerman, End Time City
Robert Adams, No Small Journeys
Christophe Agou, Les Faits Secondaires
Christophe Agou, Life Below
Christopher Anderson, Capitolio
Tom Arndt, Men In America
Diane Arbus, In the Beginning

Julia Baier, Water Matters
Shirley Baker, Street Photographs, Manchester and Salford
Shirley Baker, Streets and Spaces
Micha Bar-Am, Our Daily Bread
Bruno Barbey, The Italians
Katy Barron, Unseen
Mary Berridge, On The Eve
Dawoud Bey, Harlem, U.S.A.
Boogie, A Wah Do Dem
Boogie, Belgrade Belongs To Me
Richard Bram, New York
Richard Bram, Street Photography
Brassai, Paris by Night
Rene Burri, Germans
Rene Burri, Impossible Reminiscences
Rene Burri, Photographs

Harry Callahan, The Archive 28: Early Street Photography
Harry Callahan, The Street
H. Cartier-Bresson, America In Passing
H. Cartier-Bresson, The Decisive Moment
H. Cartier-Bresson, The Europeans
H. Cartier-Bresson, In India
H. Cartier-Bresson, Mexican Notebooks
H. Cartier-Bresson, Scrapbook
H. Cartier-Bresson, The Early Work
Vivian Cherry, Helluva Town
Krass Clement, Hvor Ingen Talte
Mark Cohen, Frame
Mark Cohen, Grim Street
Mark Cohen, Dark Knees
Mark Cohen, True Color
Joan Colom, Les Gens Du Raval
Martha Cooper, Street Play
Thomas Consilvio, Snapshooters
Barbara Crane, Private Views

Bill Dane, Outside and Inside America
Maciej Dakowicz, Cardiff After Dark
Bruce Davidson, Central Park
Bruce Davidson, England/Scotland 1960
Bruce Davidson, Subway
Roy DeCarava, Photographs
Roy DeCarava, The Sweet Flypaper of Life
Carl De Keyzer, East Of Eden
Carl De Keyzer, God Inc.
Carl De Keyzer, Homo Sovieticus
Peter Dench, The British Abroad
Peter Dench, Dench Does Dallas
Peter Dench, England Uncensored
Raymond Depardon, Adeiu Saigon
Raymond Depardon, Berlin
Raymond Depardon, Glasgow
Raymond Depardon, Manhattan Out
Raymond Depardon, Voyages
Robert Doisneau, Three Seconds of Eternity
Eamonn Doyle, i
Eamonn Doyle, On
Carolyn Drake, Two Rivers
Diane Dufour and Matthew S. Witkovsky, Provoke: Between Protest and Performance
Bryan Dyson, One Eye Open, One Eye Closed

William Eggleston, Before Color
William Eggleston, Los Alamos
Jonathan Elderfield, Living Under South Street
Ed van der Elsken, Sweet Life
Mitch Epstein, The City
Mitch Epstein, In Pursuit of India 
Mitch Epstein, Recreation
Elliott Erwitt, Museum Watching
Elliott Erwitt, On The Beach
Elliott Erwitt, Personal Exposures
Elliott Erwitt, Photographs and Anti-Photographs
Elliott Erwitt, Sequentially Yours
Elliott Erwitt, Snaps
Walker Evans, Many Are Called

Louis Faurer (Self Titled)
Louis Fauer (Steidl)
Louis Faurer, Photographs from Philadelphia and New York, 1937-1973
Flo Fox, Asphalt Gardens

David Featherstone, The Diana Show
Harold Feinstein, A Retrospective
Harold Feinstein, Saying Yes
Martine Franck, One Day To The Next
Robert Frank, The Americans
Leonard Freed, Black in White America
Leonard Freed, Photographs 1954-1990
Leonard Freed, The Italians
Jill Freedman, Circus Days
Jill Freedman, Street Cops
Lee Friedlander, American Monuments
Lee Friedlander, MOMA (Big Yellow)
Lee Friedlander, Photographs
Lee Friedlander, Self Portrait
Lee Friedlander, Street
David Freund, Gas Stop

George Georgiou, Fault Lines
George Georgiou, Last Stop
Luigi Ghirri, It's Beautiful Here, Isn't It...
David Gibson, Matt Stuart, and Nick Turpin, Three
David Gibson, The Street Photographer's Manual
Ford Gilbreath, (Self Titled)
Bruce Gilden, After The Off
Bruce Gilden, Facing New York
Bruce Gilden, Haiti
Richard Gordon, Meta Photographs
Paul Graham, The Present
Kenneth Graves, The Home Front
Jonathan Green, The Snapshot
Sid Grossman, The Life and Work of Sid Grossman
Harry Gruyaert, (Self Titled)

Ernst Haas, Color Correction
M. Bruce Hall, Promised Land
Siegfried Hansen, Hold The Line
Christobal Hara, An Imaginary Spaniard
Christobal Hara, Contranatura
Christobal Hara, Cuatro cosas de Espana
Christobal Hara, Vanitas
Charles Harbutt, Departures and Arrivals
Charles Harbutt, Travelog
David Alan Harvey, Based on a True Story
Robert Herman, The New Yorkers
Anthony Hernandez, Rodeo Drive 1984
Fred Herzog, Photographs
Ken Heyman, Hipshot
Jackie Higgins, World Atlas of Street Photography
Lisa Hostetler, Street Seen
Sophie Howarth and Stephen McLaren, Street Photography Now

In-Public@10
Yasuhiro Ishimoto, A Tale of Two Cities
Yasuhiro Ishimoto, Chicago, Chicago
Yasuhiro Ishimoto, Shibuya, Shibuya

Jeff Jacobson, The Last Roll
Jeff Jacobson, My Fellow Americans
Stella Johnson, Al Sol

Simpson Kalisher, Propaganda and Other Photographs
Richard Kalvar, Earthlings
Zisis Kardianos, A Sense of Place
Peter Kayafas, O Public Road!
Thatcher Keats, Confidence Games
Beate Kemfert and Christina Leber, Road Atlas
David Lykes Keenan, Fair Witness
Andre Kertesz, Diary of Light
Andre Kertesz, His Life and Work
Johan vad där Keuken, Quatorze Juillet
Chris Killip, In Flagrante
Keizo Kitajima, Modoru Okinawa
Keizo Kitajima, New York
William Klein, Life Is Good and Good For You In New York 1956
William Klein, Tokyo
Martin Kollar, Nothing Special
Viktor Kolar, (Self Titled)
Viktor Kolar, Canada 1968-73
Viktor Kolar, Mala Strana
Viktor Kolar, Ostrava
Koudelka, Gypsies
Koudelka, Exiles
Max Kozloff, New York Over The Top
Seiji Kurata, Flash Up

Jason Langer, Secret City
Sergio Larrain, Vaparaiso
Sergio Larrain, Vagabond Photographer
Jacques Henri Lartigue, Album of a Century
Jacques Henri Lartigue, A Sporting Life
Joseph Lawton, Contact Sheet 108
Saul Leiter, (Self Titled)
Saul Leiter, Early Black and White
Saul Leiter, Early Color
Gita Lenz, (Self Titled)
Leon Levenstein, (Self Titled)
Helen Levitt, (Self Titled)
Helen Levitt, Crosstown
Helen Levitt, Here and There
Helen Levitt, Slide Show
Marketa Luskacova (Self Titled)
Marketa Luskacova, Pilgrims

Vivian Maier, A Photographer Found
Vivian Maier, Eye To Eye
Vivian Maier, Out Of The Shadows
Vivian Maier, Street Photographer
Rene Maltete, Paris Des Rues et Des Chansons
Jesse Marlow, Don't Just Tell Them Show Them
Jesse Marlow, Wounded
Constantine Manos, American Color
Constantine Manos, American Color 2
Constantine Manos, Bostonians
Constantine Manos, A Greek Portfolio
Emil Mayer, Wiener Typen
Roger Mayne, Street Photographs of Roger Mayne
Bob Mazzer, Underground
Don McCullin, In England
Paul McDonough, New York Photographs 1968-1978
Paul McDonough, Sight Seeing
Richard Misrach, Telegraph 3 A.M.
Enrique Metinides, 101 Tragedies
Ken Miller, Shoot: Photography of the Moment
Joseph Mills, Inner City
Jeff Mermelstein, Sidewalk
Jeff Mermelstein, No Title Here
Jeff Mermelstein, Twirl/Run
Ray Metzker, City Stills
Ray Metzker, Light Lines
Ray Metzker, Sand Creatures
Joel Meyerowitz, Glimpse
Joel Meyerowitz, Retrospective
Joel Meyerowitz, Wild Flowers
Boris Mikhailov, (Self Titled)
Lisette Model, (Self Titled)
Jean-Pierre Montier, Henri Cartier-Bresson and the Artless Art
Kevin Moore and James Crump, Starburst
Giles Mora, The Last Photographic Heroes
Inge Morath, First Color
Inge Morath, The Road To Reno
Andy Morley-Hall, Please Do Not Feed
Daido Moriyama, Bye Bye Photography
Daido Moriyama, Stray Dog
Igor Moukhin, My Moscow

Richard Nagler, Word On The Street
Takehiko Nakafuji, Night Crawler
Takuma Nakahira, For a Language To Come
Ramy Narula, Platform 10
Enrico Natali, Detroit 1968
Enrico Natali, New American People
Enrico Natali, New York Subway 1960
Paulo Nozolino, Penumbra

Toby Old, Lucky Strikes
Toby Old, Times Square
Kramer O'Neill, Pictures of People and Things
Kramer O'Neill, Till Human Voices Wake Us
Tony O'Shea, Dubliners
Ruth Orkin, Above and Beyond

Patrick Pagnano, Shot On The Street
Tod Papageorge, American Sports, 1970
Tod Papageorge, Passing Through Eden
Tod Papageorge, Seeing Things, New York 1966-67
Trent Parke, Dream/Life
Trent Parke, Minutes To Midnight
Trent Parke and Narelle Autio, The Seventh Wave
Martin Parr, Bad Weather
Martin Parr, Common Sense
Martin Parr, The Last Resort
Martin Parr, Small World
Martin Parr, The Non-Conformists
Frank Paulin, Out Of The Limelight
Philip Perkis, The Sadness of Men
Peter Peter, Subway
Gueorgui Pinhassov, Sightwalk
Chrissy Piper, Where The Day Takes You
Sylvia Plachy, Goings On About Town
Sylvia Plachy, Self Portrait With Cows Going Home
Sylvia Plachy, Signs and Relics
Sylvia Plachy, Unguided Tour
Bernard Plossu, So Long
Gus Powell, The Company of Strangers
Mark Powell, Open At Noon
Mark Powell, V.I.P.s

Stan Raucher, Metro
Raghu Rai's India
Tony Ray-Jones, A Day Off
Tony Ray-Jones, American Colour 1962-1965
Tony Ray-Jones, (Self Titled)
Tony Ray Jones, (Russell Roberts)
Reiner Reidler, Fake Holidays
Kent Reno, Ground Time
Marc Riboud, (Self Titled)
Marc Riboud, In China
Marc Riboud, Photographs at Home and Abroad
Marcy Robinson, Half Frame
Willy Ronis, La Vie en Passant
Joerg Rubbert, Berlin-Paris-New York
Leo Rubinfein, Map of the East
Leo Rubinfein, New Roads in Old Roads
Robert Rutoed, Grayscales

Erich Salomon, Portrait of an Age
Pentti Sammallahti, Here Far Away
Richard Sandler, The Eyes Of The City
Boris Savelev, Secret City
Andrew Savulich, The City
Andrew Savulich, City of Chance
Ken Schles, Invisible City
Ken Schles, Night Walk
Tod Seelie, Bright Lights
Craig Semetko, Unposed
David Seymour, Chim
Stephen A. Scheer, The Maples
Jack Simon, Seventy
Raghubir Singh, A Way Into India
Raghubir Singh, Banaras
Raghubir Singh, Bombay
Raghubir Singh, Calcutta
Raghubir Singh, The Ganges
Raghubir Singh, The Grand Trunk Road
Raghubir Singh, Rajasthan
Raghubir Singh, River of Colour
Raghubir Singh, Tamil Nadu
Gunnar Smoliansky, One Picture at a Time
David Solomons, Happenstance
David Solomons, Up West
David Solomons, Underground
Steven B. Smith, Waiting Out The Latter Days
Otto Snoek, Why Not
Otto Snoek, Rotterdam
Otto Snoek, Ukranian Crossroads
Michael Spano, Time Frames
Chris Steele-Perkins, Fuji
Chris Steele-Perkins, Tokyo Love Hello
Harvey Stein, Briefly Seen
Harvey Stein, Coney Island
Mark Steinmetz, Greater Atlanta
Mark Steinmetz, Paris In My Time
Mark Steinmetz, South Central
Mark Steinmetz, South East
Louis Stettner, Wisdom Cries Out in the Street
Johnny Stiletto, Shots from the Hip
Johnny Stiletto, Vintage 80s
Gary Stochl, On City Streets
Dennis Stock, Made In The U.S.A.
Zoe Strauss, America
Zoe Strauss, 10 Years
Jindrich Streit, The Village is a Global Word
Matt Stuart, All That Life Can Afford
Issei Suda, Early Works
Homer Sykes, Once A Year

Yakuta Takanashi, Photography 1965-74
Yakuta Takanashi, Toward The City
Ed Templeton, Wayward Cognitions
Alexey Titarenko, The City Is A Novel
Shomei Tomatsu, Chewing Gum and Chocolate
Elisabeth Tonnard, In This Dark Wood
Charles Traub, In The Still Life
Charles Traub, Beach
Charles Traub, Dolce Via
Charles Traub, Lunchtime
Athur Tress, San Francisco 1964
Peter Turnley, French Kiss
Peter Turnley, Parisians
Nick Turpin, On The Night Bus
Nick Turpin, Publication

Burk Uzzle, A Family Named Spot
Burk Uzzle, All American
Burk Uzzle, Landscapes

Michael Vanded Eeckhoudt, Duo

Stephen Waddell, Hunt and Gather
Robert Walker, Color Is Power
Dougie Wallace, Shoreditch Wild Life
Dougie Wallace, Stags, Hens, and Bunnies
Rebecca Norris Webb, The Glass Between Us
Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb On Street Photography and the Poetic Image
Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb, Memory City
Alex Webb, Crossings
Alex Webb, Hot Light/Half-Made Worlds
Alex Webb, The Suffering Of Light
Alex Webb, Under The Grudging Sun
Matt Weber, Urban Prisoner
Weegee, Naked City
Weegee, Naked Hollywood
Weegee, Weegee's World
Weegee, Unknown Weegee
Henry Wessel, (Self Titled)
Henry Wessel, Five Books
Henry Wessel, Incidents
Henry Wessel, Traffic
Henry Wessel, Waikiki
Colin Westerbeck and Joel Meyerowitz, Bystander
Kai Wiedenhofer, Perfect Peace
Geoff Winningham, Friday Night In The Coliseum
Geoff Winningham, Rites Of Fall
Garry Winogrand, (SFMOMA)
Garry Winogrand, 1964
Garry Winogrand, The Animals
Garry Winogrand, Arrivals And Departures
Garry Winogrand, Archive 26: The Early Work
Garry Winogrand, Figments from the Real World
Garry Winogrand, Grossmont College Catalog
Garry Winogrand, The Man In The Crowd
Garry Winogrand, Public Relations
Garry Winogrand, Stock Photographs
Garry Winogrand, Women Are Beautiful
Michael Wolf, Tokyo Compression
Tom Wood, All Zones Off Peak
Tom Wood, Looking For Love
Tom Wood, Men and Women
Tom Wood, Photie Man

Max Yavno, The Photography of Max Yavno
Kohei Yoshiyuki, The Park

Ernest J. Zarate, At The Beach
Miron Zownir, NYC RIP
Miron Zownir, Radical Eye
Miron Zownir, The Valley Of The Shadow
Slavomir Zulawinski, Instersection
Wolfgang Zurborn, Catch
Wolfgang Zurborn, Dresser Real
Wolfgang Zurborn, Drift