Ian Ruhter is from Los Angeles, CA.

This project was created with the same spirit that America was founded on. Our intentions are to connect everyone in america through the lens of this camera and social networking sites. We can’t do this without you. We want to tell your story and show your city or town through photographs of you, and people you know. As we travel around america looking for people and places to shoot you will be able to keep track of where we are going and help us decide where we go next. Join us in our journey by liking our facebook to get yourself photographed by us.

An extra special thanks to Brandon Rein, Scotty Hoffman and Trevor Atwater.

If you like this video, then check out the next chapter, American Dream.

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Brandon Thibodeaux lives in Dallas, TX.

This video project is a representation of my ongoing project entitled When Morning Comes. It is a reflection of life in the Mississippi Delta and a testament to the dignity and grace of those souls carrying the back-breaking legacy of the Delta’s rural communities as they strive to pave their own course through history. For three years I have sought to discover light in a dark place and have witnessed signs of strength against struggle, humility amidst pride, and a promise for deliverance in the lives that I have come to know.

I see the flight of childhood innocence grounded by the scars of life hard lived, the strength of a single man while acknowledging the machine that replaced thousands, a fist of power born from the chains that bound it, a living room tribute to a symbolic president, and a toppled white king in a conquered game of chess. These representations of racial struggle and its social and economic achievements are reminders of the story of Mound Bayou, Mississippi. Founded in 1887 it is America’s oldest African American settlement.

“Why stagger at the difficulties that confront you,” proclaimed its founder, Isaiah T. Montgomery, as he strove to ignite his men in their first year. “Have you not for centuries braved the miasma and hewn down forests at the command of your master? Can you not do it for yourselves and your children unto successive generations, that they may worship and develop under their own vine and fig tree?”

These words took the dreams of enslaved generations and turned them into a reality filled with bankers, doctors, and lawyers. Booker T. Washington and President Theodore Roosevelt heralded the town as being a “shining example of black achievement.” Though, while it once basked in the American Dream, its present day economic decline – like that of many agriculturally-based Delta towns – has long threatened to overshadow its past.

It is this duality of triumph and decline, and the simple beauty of daily life that exists in between its fabric, that draws me to Mound Bayou and to the villages of the greater Delta. But this is not a story solely centered upon the region’s plight. It is a celebration in faith and perseverance, one that’s chorus is sung in every clapboard church across its land.

“By and by, when the morning comes,

When the saints of God are gathering home.

We will tell the story how we’ve overcome,

We will understand it better by and by”

As economies crawl, walk, pace, and sprint toward development their strides are perched upon the backbones of men. It is the marrow of those bones – the vibration of that spirit – that drives the citizens of Mound Bayou and those of the greater Delta to endure. And it is this collective spirit that I seek to evoke in my work.

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Brandon Thibodeaux (b. 1981) is a photographer based in Dallas, Texas, who creates portraits in the documentary tradition. In addition to his assignment work and creative commissions, he explores life in the American south. He is a member of the photography collective MJR, based in New York City.

Awards and Accolades:

Center Awards: Review Santa Fe, 2012

Magenta Foundation: Flash Forward, US Winner, 2012

Oxford American: 100 Under 100,New Superstars of Southern Art 2012

FotoWeek DC: 1st Place, Portrait, 2011

Michael P. Smith Fund for Documentary Photography: Finalist, 2011

LOOKbetween Featured Artist: Charlottesville, VA, 2010

Getty Reportage Emerging Talent: 2009-10

Eddie Adams Workshop XIX: Jeffersonville, NY, Alumnus, 2006

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Jim Mortram lives in Dereham, East Anglia, UK.

I’ve followed the lives of several people within a 3 mile radius of the Market Town where I live in Dereham, East Anglia for the past 3 years.

Over the course of working on these stories many situations have arisen and been documented, isolation, poverty, drug abuse, homelessness, self harm, mental illness, juvenile crime, epilepsy though for myself the over riding experience has been one of endurance in spite of the impossible walls life often presents to us. Wall’s that box us in, wall’s that separate us, wall’s to climb to be set free.

This selection of images is a brief look within these documented lives. Lives lived in the U.K. Lives lived in the now. Lives lived within times of much change. As the cultural, political and economic landscape changes these stories depict the final destination for the results of many of those high up and far away decisions and influences. These images depict the full stop of the Welfare State cuts, Housing Benefit cuts, Health cuts, loopholes and failures of systems and what happens when the heart of a community is slowly eroded. These images also depict the lives of those hanging on, bowed yet not broken, of lives where a fight to survive is very real. Fighting apathy, addiction, fighting loneliness, illness all the while clinging to self respect, adrift in the community, in life, but not yet lost.

Your community is exactly that, yours. Everyone has their story. I hope you’ll make time to visit the Small Town Inertia site and read the interviews and testimony of the people that have given so much to appear in these images, their stories are all that count.

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 Alain Laboile is a sculptor living in Arbis, France.

I’m a father of six. My chidren are my subject. It’s a limitless subject.

I just have to look… children are creative… you just need to be there waiting for things to happen in the frame and click.

Today my children are moving and playing in their own environment. Their spontaneous behaviors are my privileged motives. My photography looks like a kind of daily diary.

If there is emotion, the picture is good… even if it is a little bit fuzzy or poorly framed. In my opinion that’s not a problem. Emotions may arise from ordinary situations… from little things referring to ourselves. That’s why family as a photography subject is constantly renewing itself.

I like the expression people tell me on the internet, that my photos are Street Family. I’m quite fascinated by street photography (see HCSP group on Flickr). It isn’t something I can practice because I live in the countryside, but I find my work quite close to this spirit there.

There are similarities in the crude side and spontaneous situations photographed. These are pieces of life that transcribe a certain reality.

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A conversation between Roger Ballen and Eva Wollenberg.

EW:  Are people who absolutely reject darkness more dangerous?

RB:  It is an interesting point. The term darkness is a complex one. There is the physical one when you turn off the light, but it can also convey the idea of the unknown, connotate evil or mean severe depression. In a Jungian way, I see it as the Shadow, the unknown and repressed part of the Self people fear and leave out. Conflicts, war, social and political problems manifest themselves as a result of people being unaware of who they are and dealing with their repressions. Greater awareness and a psychological revolution are needed in the world. Most people do not understand such sophisticated concepts and need education to realize.

EW:  Do you think that your photographs help viewers to understand a bit more of their Shadow?

RB:  I have come to the conclusion that the more the individual struggles to deny the work, the more it has ultimately impacted on him. If excessive repression inhibits inner realization, it does not mean that the image will not have an impact on the viewer’s psyche.

EW:  There is also a fine line between what we fear and what is captivating…

RB:  Fear is part of the basic consciousness of the organic living beings on the planet, a natural instinct and perhaps one of the most important protective ones. Even a mosquito probably feels fear. Existential and physical one are not the same. Existential related issues are basic and shared by most people whether they are aware of them or not : fear of death, of not being able to cope, of the unknown, of getting sick, of not achieving one’s life’s goals.

EW:  What do you fear?

RB:  Like everybody else I think, I fear not living anymore.

EW:  And all what we do will disappear… it is just a matter of time, and still, we have to continue…

RB:  Taking pictures is like a diary to me, a way of expressing who I am over long periods of time. It helps solidify my life experiences, defines moments over time for me. To me, pictures are like shooting stars crossing the night sky, a revelation of lightning truth. I do not think the human being is really able to fully appreciate cosmic time or timelessness, in any ways. We cannot even think in these terms.

EW:  Was the death of your mother a pivotal moment?

RB:  I have always been very existentially focused, driven and aware, even prior to my mother’s death. I studied psychology and was part of the counter culture during the late 60′s and early 70′s. People at that time tried to become aware of themselves, of the cultural brainwashing and were looking at the human experience in a more philosophical and humanistic way. To have experienced such a unique time in history impacted me as much as her death.

EW:  You did not show your work for a long time, do you feel that to be hidden allowed you to develop in a deeper way?

RB:  Yes. I was working as a geologist in South Africa and did not see photography as a profession. Also, people were not interested in what I was doing, nobody wanted to sell or buy photographs, so I did not have to worry about showing, impressing people or making a living out of it. I developed a deeply passionate personal relation with photography. One of the most crucial things in my development is how very little contemporary influences I have had.

EW:  It seems sometimes that the more we watch other people’s work, the less personal ours becomes…

RB:  I agree with you. Too much of other people’s voices sometimes make you unable to hear your own. You have to find your very own voice to be able to enter the forest and to open up a new path. Now, the more I look at people’s photographs, the more I despair because most try too much to find messages in other people’s visions instead of turning inward to find their own. To be creative I feel you have to go through the dark periods to reach the light. I also always explain to the students that photography is maybe the most difficult and competitive business in the world to make a living. Daily on the planet, maybe three hundred million photographs are taken, and as an artist you have to separate yourself from that with a unique, meaningful, and creative vision. It is a difficult task and 1% make a living out of it while 99% cannot survive as artists.

EW:  When you took pictures of Selma Blair, you mentioned that she was not afraid of putting a rat in her mouth and that you need such kind of people. Where do you find most such state of innocence? Did you also try to work with people who are afraid of you or photography itself?

RB:  Afraid people don’t feel natural. The best pictures arise when, like a good actor, the subjects forget about the stage and embody the character they are supposed to become. Most of the people I have worked with in South Africa probably have no real conception of what I am trying to capture or how the camera could possibly transform them, therefore I think the issue of them fearing it does not exist. I think that if I watched carefully other subjects who might have more sophisticated masks, I would still catch that state of being that I am known for. I have always said to people, “All things being equal, I could put you in my book.”

I found that the most difficult people to photograph are usually old ladies, they are very self-conscious. The easiest are children and animals. Trees might even be easier (laughing). The interesting challenge with animals is to try to interpret their interaction with the space, the inherent meaning they bring. Finally, the birds I work with have their own complications, flying nervously, biting people and escaping through the window ! It is easier to ask somebody to sit on a chair and look at the ceiling.

EW:  If people were too self-conscious, then you would not be able to project on them who you are and what you try to find anymore?

RB:  You are right about absence of self-consciousness, but it does not mean I can find myself in them either.

EW:  Were you born with highly developed social skills or are you naturally shy and overcame it?

RB:  It is an interesting point. I think that I was inherently introverted and shy the first 30 years of my life. I certainly got over a lot of that the last 10-15 years, giving hundreds of talks and interviews.

EW:  You recently directed the video for the song I Fink U Freeky by Die Antwoord, and it has been a huge success, extending in a new way that creative vision of yours. Do you plan to be a video recidivist?

RB:  I will probably make some new videos over the next years, yes.

EW:  Is there a movie remaining in your mind more than others?

RB:  I admire Persona by Ingmar Bergman. I like Bergman’s films because he used the same actors, worked in very small constructed spaces and his images are very clear, with deep psychological meanings. I feel a connection because I work with people in claustrophobic spaces year after year.

EW:  About such depths, deep inside I feel that I will never understand what I try to understand and that one day I will be old and still ignorant (laughing)…

RB:  And when we look at the stars… do we understand? Nothing. And it is fine, there is nothing wrong with that (laughing).

EW:  What makes you feel peaceful?

RB:  Just being in nature, I think. If I am in a nice, beautiful, quiet place in the mountains, forest or near the sea, then I think it is when I feel the best. When I was younger, I used to do a lot of diving. I like going in the water, looking at the fish.

EW:  Again, you need to go under the surface…

RB:  To dive in water, it is like going into your mind (smile).

Una conversación entre Eva Wolleberg y Roger Ballen

EW:  ¿Las personas que rechazan totalmente la oscuridad son más peligrosas?

RB:  Es una pregunta interesante. El término oscuridad es bastante complejo. Existe como término físico, cuando uno apaga la luz, pero también transmite lo desconocido, connota lo malvado o significa la posibilidad de caer en una depresión profunda. Desde la perspectiva Junguiana, la interpreto como la Sombra, lo desconocido, el rincón reprimido del sî mismo que la gente teme y aparta. Los conflictos, la guerra, los problemas sociales y políticos se manifiestan a consecuencia de la falta de consciencia de quién se es y de lidiar con la represión. Se necesitan una mayor consciencia y una revolución psicológica en el mundo. La mayoría de la gente no entiende tales conceptos tan sofisticados y necesitan educarse para darse cuenta.

EW:  ¿Piensas que tus fotografías ayudan a los espectadores a entender un poco más sobre sus propias Sombras?

RB:  He llegado a la conclusión que el individuo; cuanto más lucha por rechazar la obra, más impacto le ha dejado. Si bien, la represión excesiva inhibe el desarrollo de la autoconciencia, eso no implica necesariamente que la imagen no tendrá un impacto en la psiquis del espectador.

EW:  También hay una delgada línea entre lo que tememos y lo cautivante…

RB:  El temor es parte de la conciencia de los organismos vivos en el planeta, un instinto natural y tal vez uno de los que más nos protege. Quizá hasta un mosquito sienta miedo. Pero no es lo mismo el temor físico que el existencial. Los asuntos relacionados a lo existencial son primordiales y los comparten todos los seres humanos, sean o no, conscientes de ello; el miedo a la muerte, a poder afrontar la realidad, a lo desconocido,  a caer enfermo, el temor a  no lograr conquistar las metas de una vida.

EW:  ¿A qué le temes?

RB:  Como todos los demás pienso que temo dejar de vivir.

EW:  Y todo lo que hacemos va a desaparecer… es solo cuestión de tiempo, y así y todo debemos continuar…

RB:  Sacar fotos es como un diario para mí, una manera de expresar quién soy durante largos periodos de tiempo. Me ayuda a consolidar mis experiencias en la vida, y con el tiempo define momentos para mí.
Me parece que las imágenes son como estrellas fugaces cruzando el cielo nocturno; una revelación de verdad luminosa. Yo no creo que el ser humano es capaz de apreciar totalmente el tiempo cósmico, lo intemporal en ninguna de sus formas. No podemos ni pensar en esos términos.

EW:  ¿La muerte de tu mamá fue un momento crucial para ti?

RB:  Siempre he estado enfocado, motivado y conciente respecto a lo existencial, incluso antes de la muerte de mi madre. Estudié psicología y fui parte de la contracultura a finales de los ´60 y principios de los ´70. En esa época la personas buscaban ser más conscientes de si mismas y de la cultura que nos sometía. Perseguían la experiencia humana de una manera  más filosófica y humanista. El haber sido parte de ese momento tan singular en la  historia me impactó tanto como la muerte mi madre.

EW:  No mostraste tu trabajo por un largo período de tiempo, ¿sientes que el haber estado escondido te permitió desarrollarte de una manera más profunda?

RB:  Sí. Yo estaba trabajando como geólogo en Sudáfrica, y no veía la fotografía como una profesión. La gente tampoco estaba interesada en lo que yo estaba haciendo, nadie quería vender o comprar fotografías, así que no me tenía que preocupar de mostrar, impresionar a alguien o vivir de ello. Desarrollé una relación personal con la fotografía profundamente apasionada. Una de las cosas mas cruciales en mi desarrollo fué cuán poca influencia contemporánea tuve.

EW:  A veces parece que cuanto más miramos la obra de los demás, menos personal se vuelve la nuestra…

RB:  Estoy de acuerdo. A veces demasiadas voces ajenas nos hacen incapaces de escuchar las nuestras. Uno tiene que encontrar su propia voz para poder entrar en el bosque y acceder a un nuevo pasaje. Ahora, cuanto más miro las fotografías de otra gente,  más pierdo la esperanza porque la mayoría se esfuerzan demasiado por encontrar mensajes en las visiones de otras personas en vez de volver a sí mismos para encontrar la propia. Para ser creativo siento que tienes que pasar por períodos de oscuridad para alcanzar la luz. También, siempre les explico a mis estudiantes que vivir de la fotografía tal vez sea la empresa mas difícil y competitiva. Día a día en todo el planeta se sacan probablemente más de trescientos millones de fotografías. Y como artista tienes que separarte de todo ello con mediante una visión que sea original, significativa y creativa. Es una ardua tarea, sólo el 1% vive de ello, mientras el 99% restante no logra sobrevivir como artista.

EW:  Cuando tomaste la foto de Selma Blair, contaste que ella no tenía miedo de ponerse una rata en la boca y que tú necesitas ese tipo de personas. ¿Dónde encuentras esos estados de inocencia? ¿Alguna vez intentaste trabajar con personas que te tuvieran miedo a ti o a la fotografía misma?

RB:  Cuando las personas tienen miedo pierden naturalidad. Las mejores fotografías surgen cuando, como un buen actor, los fotografiados se olvidan del escenario y personifican el papel que les toca interpretar. La mayor parte de las personas con las que trabajé en Sudáfrica probablemente no tenían una clara idea de lo que yo intentaba capturar o de cómo la cámara probablemente podría transformarlos, por lo tanto el asunto del temor no existía. Creo que si mirara detenidamente otros personajes que pudieran tener máscaras más sofisticadas, aún así podría captar ese estado del ser por el cual soy conocido. Siempre le he dicho a la gente, si las cosas siguen igual, podría ponerte en mi libro.

Me he dado cuenta que las personas mas difíciles de fotografiar generalmente son las mujeres mayores, debido a que son muy cohibidas. Los más fáciles son los niños y los animales. Los árboles podrían ser más fáciles todavía (risas). El reto interesante con los animales es tratar de interpretar su interacción con el espacio, el sentido inherente que traen. Finalmente, los pájaros con los que trabajo tienen sus complicaciones, vuelan nerviosamente, pican a la gente y escapan por la ventana. Es más fácil pedirle a alguien que se siente en una silla y que mire al techo.

EW:  Si las personas fueran muy cohibidas, entonces ¿ya no podrías ser capaz de proyectar en ellas lo que eres y lo que tratas de encontrar?

RB:  Tienes razón en cuanto a la ausencia de cohibición, pero eso tampoco implica que yo no pueda proyectarme en ellos.

EW:  ¿Naciste con una fuerte capacidad de relacionarte o eres esencialmente tímido y pudiste superarlo?

RB:  Es una pregunta interesante. Yo creo que fui inherentemente introvertido y tímido los primeros 30 años de mi vida, y seguramente superé bastante de eso en los últimos 10-15 años, dando cientos de charlas y entrevistas.

EW:  Recientemente dirigiste el video de la canción I fink U Freeky de Die Antwoord, y ha sido un enorme éxito; extendiendo tu visión creativa en una nueva dirección. ¿Planeas convertirte en un videasta reincidente?

RB:  Probablemente haga algunos videos más en los próximos años, sí.

EW:  ¿Existe alguna película dando vueltas en tu cabeza más que otras?

RB:  Admiro Persona de Ingmar Bergman. Me gustan las películas de Bergman porque utilizaba siempre los mismos actores, trabajaba en espacios muy pequeños, y sus imágenes son muy claras; con un profundo significado psicológico. Siento una conexión porque trabajo con personas en ambientes claustrofóbicos año tras año.

EW:  Acerca de tales profundidades; dentro de mi, siento que nunca voy a comprender lo que intento comprender y que un día seré vieja y todavía ignorante. (riendo)

RB:  Y cuando miramos a las estrellas… ¿acaso comprendemos? Nada. Y está bien, no hay nada malo en ello. (riendo)

EW:  ¿Qué te hace sentir en paz?

RB:  Creo que, sólo estar en la naturaleza. Si estoy en un lindo y tranquilo lugar en las montañas, en el bosque o cerca del mar entonces creo que es cuando mejor me siento. Cuando era joven hacía mucho buceo. Me encanta estar bajo el agua, mirando los peces.

EW:  De nuevo, necesitas ir bajo la superficie…

RB:  Bucear en el agua, es como ir hacia tu mente (sonrisa).

Translation by Vero Somlo and Alynn Guerra.

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Arimin Karami lives in Tehran, Iran.

EXPLICIT CONTENT: may not be suitable for all audiences. A man is hanged after being convicted of killing four members of a family, in Qazvin, about 80 miles (130 kilometers) northwest of the capital Tehran, Iran.

Powerful images are made when the ordinary becomes beautiful. Conflict Photographers take that which is ordinary within a situation and expose the atrocity of that event in a single image. These images are powerful because they are skillfully wrought but too because they are of an ordinary that is outside our basis of comparison. These public displays of violence and death are captured frame by frame, each telling a complete story. Together they encompass a way of modern law and barbarianism that make the images beautiful and unbearable, but that will, in the best of situations, make us less indifferent.

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Filippo Mutani is from Milan, Italy.

Filippo Mutani started his professional photography in 2008, after more than ten years working for advertising. After joining Grazia Neri agency in Milan, in 2009 he became a worldwide contributor for Getty Images. He teaches reportage and communication at IED Milan Institute and at Il Sole 24 Ore Master School in Milan and Rome. Filippo is a worldwide contributor for Getty Images, and is represented for licensing by Art+Commerce.

Reportage and portrait clients:
The New York Times, The Financial Times, Newsweek, The Guardian, Vanity Fair, Cosmopolitan, Elle.

Fashion editorials clients:
Vogue Italia, A, Il -IlSole24Ore.

Corporate/advertising clients:
Giorgio Armani, Campari, Pirelli, L’Oreal, , Longines, Moroccanoil, Simonetta Ravizza, I Spirit Vodka, Veet.

Awards:
IPA, International Photography Awards. Best Advertising Calendar 2010. 1st prize. Campari.

NPPA, National Press Photographer’s Association. Best Of Photojournalism 2010, the Art of Entertainment. 3rd prize. “the backstage diaries”.

WPGA, the Pollux award 2010. Fashion portfolio. 1st prize. “the backstage diaries”.

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EXPLICIT CONTENT: may not be suitable for all audiences.
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Luca Desienna is based in London.

One of the most controversial love story ever told… the story of Tira and Gunawan.

Tira was a pre-op 48 years old transgender disfigured by repeated surgical operation, Gunawan an outcast street boy with no family and no job to hold to. Both were living in Muslim Indonesia, and struggling through an uneasy life made of poverty, HIV, desires, carnality, sadness, abandonment, alcohol, religion, love and mortality.

They met each other many years ago while working on the streets of Jogiakarta, Central Java, and since then they shared everything—their dwelling, their pains, their hopes… their illnesses.

They lived in a squatted courtyard near an airport, just off a very busy junction, battling everyday through poverty, inequality, abuses, intolerance and sickness, but still managing to taste blissful moments of tenderness and glances of happiness.

However the connection between love and death, here is a constant—Gunawan is aware of Tira’s HIV but he has unprotected sex with her. He stopped minding about it and gave himself up to the consequences. ‘I let God decides’ he once told me. This could be seen as an act of idiocy or as the ultimate act of love. However I don’t think anyone has the right to judge it.

To enter Tira and Gunawan’s world is to enter a place where there are no anchors, no comparisons, and no judgements. Among all the drama and pain, their existence is a solemn proclamation to the true meaning of love. Their life also questions our meaning of beauty and the male-female gender binary system upon which our societies are built.

During one of the first meetings, Tira told me: “Luca, people don’t know what I am, and they don’t want to know… they just stop at the entrance and stay there, staring… staring at the surface.”

I had the privilege to enter Tira and Gunawan’s world, and to go beneath the surface, to a world made of pain, joy, intolerance, poverty, scars, prostitution, mortality and God. It was not an easy life, but it was one where Tira and Gun still managed, among all the drama, to retain a joie de vivre. In that small space that they call their home, it doesn’t matter if people don’t see them or can’t accept who they have become, because in that four square meter microcosm, they can be themselves.

There the claustrophobia loses its confinement and becomes an endless reach. Life in those four square meters was devoured savagely.  They fought, played, ate, enjoyed, loved, sang, prayed, danced, had sex and got drunk. That was the real world. Everything else that was happening outside was only a background chatter.

Their drama is touchable. You can smell it, hear it, feel it.

My Dearest Javanese Concubine is the story of that drama… a story where people who are seen as marginalized misfits become modern heroes—heroes who have struck a pathway through what we regard as normal and accepted—a love story that shows us that love can be a bond that rises against everything.

—In memory of Tira Yohanes Soepomo, October 17, 1967—May 31, 2011

—Assistants: Andy Aw, Rulli Mallai

Although Jogiakarta is known as a fairly tolerant city, the transgenders still have to face a great degree of problems and struggles, primarily for economic sustenance. The majority of them unfortunately end up working as prostitutes because they clearly have no other choice, but also those that have established businesses are forced once in a while to resource from escorting and prostitution.

This causes a strings of serious concerns, above all for HIV. In fact, it is customary that the punters demand no condoms and that the transgenders find themselves torn between losing a client and maintaining their personal health. It’s a choice that most of the time is driven by their need for money.

In the city of Jogiakarta there are 228 transgenders and most of them are Muslims, and 31 are registered as HIV positive.  There are associations like Ponpes Al-Fatah Waria and Kebaja that actively inform their members of the HIV consequences and precautions.

Ponpes Al-Fatah Waria is the first ever Islamic School for transgenders. Waria is an Indonesian term for transgendered people. It’s derived from the words wanita (woman) and pria (man). The school does weekly teachings and prayer free of charge for the local warias. They are taught and directed by two local Imams.

Luca Desienna is an award-winning photographer based in London. He received many awards such as the Px3 People’s Choice Award in 2010, 1st Prize Winner at Simulacrum Photo Contest judged by Richard Billingham, 1st Prize MEET MY WORLD photo contest and an official selection at VOIES Off 2011. In addition he was shortlisted for the Photographers’ Master Cup, he received an Honorable Mention at the 2011 LENS CULTURE Exposure Awards and the Spider Black and White Award 2008, he was also selected as a finalist at the Best of Photography Annual 2008, and shortlisted for the 2008 Travel Photographer of The Year.

His photography appeared in magazines such as The British Journal of Photography, Vanity Fair, Intelligence in Lifestyle, Kult Magazine, Vanidad, Genis Aci, Eyemazing, No Name, a-n, Gomma, XL, VICE and Time Out.

He exhibited throughout Europe and has taken part in numerous art fairs and collective exhibitions, including the FOTO8 Summer Show and the Padova Art Fair. In addition he was juror of various awards, such as the Photolucida Critical Mass and the Crestock Photo Contest. Among his recent job highlights Luca was the ad campaign photographer for Diesel U Music 2009/2010 and was the editor of Gomma Magazine from 2004 to 2007.

Luca is the co-owner and Chief Editor of Gomma Online and Gomma Books Ltd, respectively a popular online portal for photographers and a bijou publishing house, specializing in high quality collectible photo books. Gomma was established in 2004. Luca is also the brains behind MONO, an hardback photo book showcasing the best contemporary black and white photographers (to be published in fall 2012).

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Meryem Yildiz currently lives and works in Montreal, Canada.

“The liminal: it’s what keeps me alive, it’s what stimulates me. It’s what makes my heart beat in that musical cadence well-known to the pink-cheeked. It’s those border moments where emerging dimensions form and where frontiers graze upon one another with synaptic synergy. It’s the language that’s not quite familiar and not quite foreign – yet one that’s inevitably understood by those on the edge of its words, or those who are not shy to bring forth their arms in that embrace where skin titillates not from the touch, but from the soul.”

—Meryem Yildiz

As half-French Canadian and half-Turkish, Meryem Yildiz has always felt at a crossroads. In between lines, moments and spaces, she bridges the divide through her photography, where discourse and code assume both roles of disclosure and discretion. She holds a BA in psychology and a graduate diploma in translation — a training in parallel that she necessarily applies to her work.

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Tomeu Coll is based in Spain and New York City.

“The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire! To find some lasting comfort in the arms of anothers fire…driven by a desperate hunger to the arms of a neon light, the heart is a lonely hunter when there’s no sign of love in sight!”

—Carson McCullers

The lands surrounding the place where I live most of the time are full of hidden mysteries. I started to photograph these mysteries many years ago without any idea in my mind, just for the pleasure to do it. But slowly I discovered an imaginary lands, unparalleled beauties that broken my night time. I called these fields Badlands. Maybe I was searching the forgotten ancestors who died here. Every day I need to caught the light into the camera through these Badlands, to see, like Garry Winogrand said, how it looks after photographed.

After his interest in cinematic production in which he experimented with old 16mm and 35mm cameras, Tomeu Coll found in photography a means of taking control of the whole process of production without the need for intermediaries. At the University in Barcelona he specialized in photojournalism and a few years later was hired as an assistant to Donna Ferrato in New York, where he also had the opportunity to work one day with Philip Jones Griffiths. He is currently working on his own projects, faithful to the analogic system.

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