The Washington Post:
Richard Stolley, the Man Who Launched PEOPLE Magazine, Dies at 92
Santa Fean recalls day he secured rights to video of JFK assassination
Via Pasatiempo, The Santa Fe New Mexican
June 18, 2021
Michael Abatemarco
Staff Writer
Photography is among the most essential messaging tools for documenting the extraordinary political, social, and economic events of contemporary times. The group exhibition Present Tense, Monroe Gallery of Photography features images that were all taken in the past few years and that underscore the upheaval and intimate and public dramas occurring in the social spheres as captured by a new wave of independent photojournalists. Images include the 2017 white supremacist tiki-torch rally at the University of Virginia, the protests at the Standing Rock Indian Reservation, the January 6 storming of the United States Capitol, the protests that followed the police killings of Michael Brown and George Floyd. Photographers include Ryan Vizzions, David Butow, Ashley Gilbertson, Sanjay Suchak, and Gabriela Campos. The exhibition is currently on view and runs through Aug. 22.
Monroe Gallery of Photography, 112 Don Gaspar Ave., 505-992-0800, monroegallery.com
Present Tense (Photography Show)
Monroe Gallery of Photography
Fri, Jun 18 - Aug 22, 2021
FULL DESCRIPTION
A significant exhibition documenting recent extraordinary political, social, and economic events, including the COVID-19 Pandemic.
For 20 years, Monroe Gallery of Photography has presented visual moments indispensable to an understanding of 20th- and 21st-century societal and political change. PRESENT TENSE, however, is entirely unique in the Gallery’s history: its first multi-photojournalist presentation of age- and perception-changing news events of just the last few years, as well as a celebration of the new wave of independent photojournalists who are battling both real situational danger and gathering selective public denial of journalism broadly.
Depicting moments both momentous and intimate, but all radiating with meaning, PRESENT TENSE was conceived as a collective way of briefly pausing the roil and rush of virtual imagery we are all subject to—a storm of constantly flickering perceptions—and recognize, through painstakingly curated photographs, that we are living in an epoch-changing history in terms of societal understanding, betterment, and, ultimately, survivability.
Monroe Gallery of Photography
112 Don Gaspar Ave. Santa Fe NM 87501
505-992-0800
Watch a brief video introduction to the exhibit on YouTube here.
Via YLE (translated from Finnish)
June 13, 2021
BY STINA ALAPIRTTI
Art Hall's summer exhibition is about war, love and Marimekko – a 98-year-old American photographer dreamed of an exhibition in Finland for a long time
The exhibition, called Life Is Wonderful, showcases the life's work of 98-year-old top photographer Tony Vaccaro from World War II to fashion and art. There are also plenty of pictures of Finland and Marimekko in the 1960s.
A large part of the exhibition consists of pictures Vaccaro took of Marimekko's activities and fashion in 1965. Vaccaro came to Finland to describe Marimekko, who has become a phenomenon around the world, for Life magazine.
Sunday, June 13, 2021
By Kathaleen Roberts
In a time ravaged by a pandemic, an insurrection and police killings of Black citizens, Monroe Gallery of Photography will show a series capturing it all.
For 20 years, the gallery has hung mainly historic photographs by such legends as Margaret Bourke-White, Harry Benson and Tony Vaccaro, although it has long included current work in its group shows. Past exhibits have paired Black Lives Matter images with photographs of the 1964 Selma March.
Opening June 18, “Present Tense” marks Monroe’s first multi-journalist exhibition of current news events during this epoch-changing era. It was time to pause the rush of virtual imagery with its storm of constantly flickering perceptions, gallery co-owner Michelle Monroe said.
Ashley Gilbertson. A mixture of tear gas discharged by police and fire extinguisher residue discharged by pro-Trump extremists hangs in the air of the Rotunda as the crowd milled about, Jan. 6, 2021. (Courtesy of Monroe Gallery of Photography)
“This is a first,” she said. “It seems obvious to us that we are living in a completely unique history. The question of survivability is upon us. We wanted people to stand before this moment and stay with it.”
David Butow’s print of National Guardsmen sprawled across the U.S. Capitol floor after the Jan. 6 insurrection coincidentally captured the New Mexico statue of Po’Pay, the leader of the 1680 Pueblo Revolt.
During the pandemic, Butow also shot an image of a masked couple walking the Hoboken, New Jersey boardwalk with an ominous Manhattan skyline in the background.
David Butow. With the skyline of lower Manhattan in the background, a couple strolls the boardwalk in Hoboken, New Jersey, during the COVID-19 pandemic, April 18, 2020. (Courtesy of Monroe Gallery of Photography)
The hazy light in Ashley Gilbertson’s image of the Capitol Rotunda reveals a chilling truth.
“Ashley said the air inside was filled with teargas, bear spray and the fire extinguishers they had carried in,” co-owner Sidney Monroe said.
Gilbertson’s shot of Capitol Police Officer Eugene Goodman frames him in a doorway beneath the raised hands of insurrectionists.
“To the left of him you can see the stairway that he led them through away from the Senate,” Michelle Monroe said. “It recalls the man standing in front of the tanks at Tiananmen Square” in 1989.
Ryan Vizzions. The Nation’s Capitol, Washington, D.C., Jan. 13, 2021. (Courtesy of Monroe Gallery of Photography)
Gilbertson also captured the sense of desperation and despair in his photo of a food line in New York’s Chinatown during the pandemic.
Ryan Vizzions’ photo of the U.S. Capitol through its new fencing encapsulates the story of the insurrection’s aftermath. The photographer also shot an image of the late Civil Rights leader Sen. John Lewis marching in Atlanta.
Sanjay Suchak. The Graduate, Robert E. Lee Monument, Richmond, Virginia, June 8, 2020. (Courtesy of Monroe Gallery of Photography)
Sanjay Suchak’s eerie photo of Charlottesville marchers at the University of Virginia Rotunda appears almost reverent until you realize they are white supremacists. Suchak also produced a compelling image of a college graduate giving a triumphant Black Power salute in front of a graffiti-scrawled Robert E. Lee statue in Richmond, Virginia.
Sanjay Suchak. White Supremacists march at the Rotunda, Charlottesville, Virginia, Aug. 11, 2017. (Courtesy of Monroe Gallery of Photography)
New Mexico photographer Gabriela Campos shot a scene closer to home when she photographed an Ohkay Owingeh dancer atop the empty platform where a statue of Don Juan de Oñate once stood in Rio Arriba County. She also cemented a picture of COVID-19 exhaustion in her portrait of a trio of masked nurses at Santa Fe’s St. Vincent Regional Medical Center.
“The impact and urgency of some of these photographs were immediately iconic,” Sidney Monroe said. “Sometimes it takes decades. We don’t need to wait a decade to look back.”
If you go
WHAT: “Present Tense”
WHERE: Monroe Gallery of Photography, 112 Don Gaspar Ave., Santa Fe
WHEN: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily June 18 through Aug. 22
HOW MUCH: Free at 505-992-0800, monroegallery.com
Memorial Day, May 31, 2021
Michelantonio "Tony" Vaccaro wanted to serve his country with a camera during World War II, so he tried to join the US Army Signal Corps. But under Uncle Sam's rules, the 20-year-old draftee was too young for that branch.
So Vaccaro, the orphaned son of Italian immigrants, became a private first class in the 83rd Infantry Division. By June 1944, days after the first wave of 156,000 Allied troops descended on the beaches of Normandy, Vaccaro landed on Omaha Beach, where he saw row after row of dead soldiers in the sand.
Vaccaro was armed with an M1 rifle. He also brought along his personal camera: A relatively compact Argus C3 he'd purchased secondhand for $47.50 and had become fond of using as a high-school student in New York.
In addition to fighting on the front lines during the Battle of Normandy and the ensuing Allied advance, Vaccaro photographed what he was seeing. At night, he'd develop rolls of film, mixing chemicals in helmets borrowed from fellow soldiers. He'd hang the wet negatives on tree branches to dry and then carry them with him.
When he had enough to fill a package, he'd generally mail them home to his sisters in the US for safekeeping and to ensure the images would survive even if he did not.
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
From 1944 to 1945, he moved through France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany.
Along the way, he took photographs that few others — even the press and Signal Corps photographers — were in a position to take: a fellow soldier's last step before shrapnel tore through him, a jubilant kiss between a GI and a young French girl in a newly liberated town, and many stomach-churning portraits of ransacked corpses that still haunt him.
During 272 days at war, he captured thousands of photos. After the Allied victory, he felt sickened and debilitated by the devastation he saw. He wasn't ready to return to the US. And he never wanted to photograph armed conflict again.
He bought a Jeep and traveled with his camera, eventually photographing brighter moments, like the reconstruction of Europe and the beauty in the lives of famous artists and everyday people.
Vaccaro went on to make a name as a fashion and culture photographer. He traveled the world shooting for magazines like Look and Life and taking portraits of bigwigs including John F. Kennedy, Pablo Picasso, Frank Lloyd Wright, Georgia O'Keeffe, and many more.
A half-century would pass before Vaccaro began publishing the bulk of his surviving wartime photos. The surviving images have been shared widely, including in the 2016 HBO documentary "Underfire: The Untold Story of PFC. Tony Vaccaro," in which Vaccaro revisits the history that he had to break Army rules to chronicle.
Tony Vaccaro. Manolo Salas/courtesy of Tony Vaccaro Studio
Vaccaro, now 98, survived a bout with COVID-19 last spring that put him in the hospital.
He continues roaming his neighborhood photographing everyday people and selling prints through Monroe Gallery of Photography. From his Queens, New York, studio more than seven decades after World War II, he closes his eyes and thinks of the brutality he documented as an infantryman.
"I see death," Vaccaro told Insider. "Death that should not happen."
Below, he describes six of his photos that he says capture "the insanity of war."
'White Death', Near Ottré, Belgium, January 1945.
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
Vaccaro developed the roll containing this image while on leave in 1945. He remembers calling this photograph "Death In The Snow" at first, later deciding that "White Death" was a more "elegant" and fitting name to honor Pvt. Henry Tannenbaum's service and sacrifice. Tannenbaum was killed in action on January 11, 1945, during the Battle of the Bulge.
"When I first took this photo of a GI dead in the snow, I was not aware of who he was. What I did was to chip the snow away and look for his right arm, because in those days, [on] the right arm we carried our dog tags. He was Pvt. Henry Irving Tannenbaum. He was one of the soldiers who fought there, just like me. We fought in the snow. He died in the snow. He was my friend. I knew he had a son. … Many years later I got a call from his son."
'Gott Mit Uns', Hürtgen Forest, Germany, 1944
The burned body of a German tank driver, as seen through Vaccaro's lens.
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
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"He's burning. This was frontline. You can smell him. We knocked out his German tank. We knocked it out, and he jumped out of there and fell dead in front of us. He was the pilot of this tank. Similar age [to me]. Here he's gone. … But [before the photograph] I heard him scream, 'Muter, muter.' He was calling for his mother."
"I took cover [by lying down next to him] and read his belt buckle: 'Gott mit uns.' … It means 'God is with us.' [Before the war] I had seen people that die and go to the church, and from church they go to the cemetery, like my father when I was four. This was a different death."
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
Vaccaro captured this image of a soldier he identifies as US Army Pvt. 1st Class Jack Rose of the 83rd Infantry Division, still upright, just after shrapnel from a mortar explosion severed his spine. The explosion, visible between Rose and the fence, threw Vaccaro back many feet. Rose, 23, was killed in action.
"That was Jack Rose. The last step. I was photographing him when this shell comes and explodes. He got killed there, in the village. … The shell could have come to me, too. I was lucky."
'Rhineland Battle', Near Walternienburg, Germany, April 1945.
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
Vaccaro says the streaking on some of his war photos comes from the grueling conditions he was in — he didn't have time to properly process and store his work in combat — and possibly from water damage due to a flood in the office where the images were stored after the war.
"We were going forward when a shell comes in, in the back, and explodes. This was Rhineland Battle. I was in a hole as the mortar exploded. I raised my arm up with the camera in my hand above the hole to catch this picture. If that shell had come 20 yards over, I was with these two [soldiers seen in the picture], and my hole was here, and if the shell came [where the two soldiers were or where Vaccaro was], I wouldn't be here talking today."
The Family Back Home', Hürtgen Forest, Germany, January 1945.
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
When Vaccaro encountered this dead German soldier, it appeared that other American soldiers had already looted his valuables.
"This is a man who we killed in frontline [fighting]. … That was it. The family back home. A dead German soldier with the pictures he was carrying of his family. … Of course I had photos of my family too. … It reminds me of the tragedy of mankind. He's not a German. He's a human being."
"We just must stop using 'I'm Italian. I'm French. I'm Spanish. I'm German.' That's what makes us enemies of each other. We're all humans. In Spain. In Germany. It's a terrible mistake that man has made. We are humans. And nothing else."
'Defeated Soldier', Frankfurt, Germany, March 1947.
Tony Vaccaro/Tony Vaccaro Studio
Vaccaro captured this image after the war, while photographing the reconstruction of Europe for Stars.
"This man came back [from being a prisoner of war in the US]. He's crying. … He gave up. You see where his family had been. The war is over. He came back, and his house had been destroyed. That's why I call this the defeated soldier. He was German. … Later I was told that he lived here."
"The point is, you see, on this Earth there is only one species, one church. Unfortunately we take this one species and create hundreds and thousands of churches, and each one is different from the next. And that's why man is not attaining peace yet."
View the Tiny Vaccaro collection here
Watch the video "Tony Vaccaro at 98" here
Via Freedom of The Press Foundation
Monday, May 31, 2021 at 11 AM MDT
Riga Photomonth invites to a discussion with Tanvi Mishra (Caravan Magazine, India), Nina Berman (Noor Images, USA), Shiraz Grinbaum (Activestills collective, Israel), moderated by Karolina Gembara (Archive of Public Protests, Poland). The event will be held in English and broadcasted live on Facebook and Riga Photomonth web page.
“This is a war we don’t know,” said Anne Applebaum, a political writer, when describing Russian paramilitary activities in Eastern Ukraine in 2014. This war was slow, masked, intrusive, without spectacular actions and rapid victories, almost invisible, almost silent but persistent and insidious. It was something we have to learn and recognise, she added.
In 2021, this description could be used in reference to many problems the world is facing. Some catastrophes happen abruptly, but others drag and lurk: the rise of the far right, the dismantling of democracies, fake news, climate change. There are catastrophes so old, forgotten, and normalised that no one wants to hear about them any longer.
Photographers, since the invention of the medium, have been present as witnesses. But their role is changing just like the nature of catastrophes has evolved. Even though capturing events will always be crucial, photographers also have to adapt by recognising tactics and premises, using images, animating, ‘being there’ with the communities instead of just photographing them. Today visual artists document protests and ‘post-photojournalistic’ photographers make art books; some run photography workshops for children in conflict-torn neighbourhoods. But can we say that photographers have embraced the social and ethical turn?
During the discussion we will look at the nature of different visual practises in the context of everyday catastrophes. Remembering Jo Spence’s words about photographers being always immersed in politics, we’ll reflect on their changing role in today’s world.
Linda Brown (L), the 10 years old, who was refused admission to white elementary school, and her 6-yr-old sister Terry Lynn walking along railroad tracks to bus which will take them to segregated Monroe Elementary School.
Via Reporters Committee For Freedom of The Press
May 12, 2021
The fourth annual report reveals the startling extent of police violence against journalists during a year of protest.
In 2020, journalists and news organizations across the United States faced record numbers of physical attacks, arrests and cases of equipment damage, as well as many other press freedom violations, according to the Reporters Committee’s fourth annual report analyzing data from the U.S. Press Freedom Tracker.
More than two dozen press freedom organizations, including the Reporters Committee, launched the U.S. Press Freedom Tracker in 2017 to document threats against press freedom nationwide. The Reporters Committee analyzes the Tracker data each year to assess what it means for our pro bono work as the only national legal services organization focused on protecting the newsgathering rights of journalists.
The full 2020 report can be found at this link, but here are five key takeaways:
1. Police were responsible for the vast majority of attacks on journalists — and appeared to frequently target them at Black Lives Matter protests
Journalists faced a record 438 physical attacks last year, 91% of which occurred as they reported on the nationwide racial justice protests that erupted in response to the police murder of George Floyd. Law enforcement officers were responsible for 80% of the assaults at protests, affecting 324 journalists. At least 195 of these journalists appeared to be deliberately targeted by police.
