Tag Archives: Andy Warhol

Steve Schapiro, Then and Now: Rare Images from a Photography Legend

Just the list of people Steve Schapiro has photographed during his career reads like a Who’s Who of the most influential politicians, celebrities and newsmakers in American history over the last five decades. But that Schapiro captured his subjects during their pivotal and seminal moments—Robert F. Kennedy during his 1968 presidential campaign; Marlon Brando on the set of The Godfather; Andy Warhol and muse Edie Sedgwick in The Factory, among others—lends his photographs an added significance. They aren’t just remarkable portraits of remarkable people, but snapshots into our country’s historical and cultural milestones.

Schapiro’s output over his more than 50-year career has been prolific, and many people have probably seen one of his photographs whether they realize it or not. But his new book, Then and Now, gives readers a look at Schapiro’s lesser-known work; the majority of pictures have never been published. “There were so many pictures that I loved but didn’t fit with the format of my previous books, so this was a chance to bring forth that work,” he says. The book is comprised of single images shown over a spread, as well as spreads of disparate images that share a composition or theme—one such example has a portrait of Martin Scorcese holding a gun and grapes on the left page, and a portrat of Mia Farrow holding a baby on the right. “I wanted to make a book that was interesting on every page,” says Schapiro. “That evolved into the idea of working with double pages where one picture worked with another.”

Schapiro first took an interest to photography at 9 while at summer camp. He fell in love with “the magic of photography” in the dark room, where he became fascinated by how pictures came to life after being dipped in various formulas. But it wasn’t until he discovered Henri Cartier-Bresson’s The Decisive Moment, as a teenager, that his interest really took hold. He began trying to capture his own decisive moments on the streets of New York City, before going to study the formal aspects of photography under W. Eugene Smith.

In 1961, amid the height of the Civil Rights movement, Schapiro started working as a freelance photographer for publications such as LIFE, Rolling Stone, TIME and Newsweek. Over the next 10 years, which Schapiro calls “the golden age of photojournalism,” he would cover the decade’s most significant events, including Martin Luther King, Jr.’s 1963 march in Selma, and later, King’s abandoned motel room after this assassination, as well as the “Summer of Love” in Haight-Asbury and Robert F. Kennedy’s 1968 presidential campaign. “It was an incredible time to be a photojournalist because there was more of an emotional flow—an ability to do more emotional pictures that captured the spirit of a person,” says Schapiro of the period. “I was able to spend a lot of time with people—Bobby Kennedy went to South America for four weeks and I got to go with him. When I got really sick there, Ethel Kennedy brought me Bobby’s pajamas to wear. Bobby was someone who I became friends with, but everyone who worked with him loved him.”

Despite his success as a photographer, Schapiro maintains that he hasn’t taken his most important picture yet—and doesn’t have any idea what it might be. In the meantime, there’s one subject who continues to elude him: “President Barack Obama. I would love to photograph him.”


View more of Schapiro’s work here.



apertureWEEK: Online Photography Reading Shortlist

Aperture aggregates the best posts from this past week in the photography blogosphere.

›› Vice‘s Motherboard blog released the never-before-told story of the first photograph ever uploaded to the World Wide Web, which celebrates its 20th anniversary next Wednesday.  The image, which has been referred to as “a Photoshop disaster,” has been met with equal parts adoration and horror since its release. The story also appeared on Gallerist NY and ABC News’ Tech This Out, which digs a bit deeper into the naïve roots of the image.

›› PIX, a proposed “photography lifestyle magazine for women,” has drawn commentary from photo editors Stella Kramer and Jasmine DeFoore and Jezebel blogger Katie J.M. Baker for its fluffy content—stories like “Smudge-proof makeup tips for long days behind the camera”—directed towards young female photographers.

›› Two years ago, Scott Blake, the digital artist behind the “Chuck Close Filter” website, was confronted by Close himself for what the painter believed to be unfair use of his copyrighted artwork. Blake recently recounted his dormant dispute with Close in an online essay, raising questions about when art is derivative, when it is plagiaristic, and if it’s possible for it to ever be entirely original. Wired reported, bloggers weighed in.

›› Les Rencontres d’Arles was in full swing last week. As The Guardian reported, Christian Patterson’s Redheaded Peckerwood took home the festival’s author book award, the second year in a row that a Mack-published photobook has won the award—Taryn Simon’s A Living Man Declared Dead…was the 2011 winner. Jonathan Torgovnik won the €25,000 Discovery prize for Intended Consequences, and The Latin American Photobook was awarded the festival’s historical book prize. Additionally, Magnum celebrated its 65th anniversary at the festival, announced nominees Zoe Strauss, Jerome Sessini and Bieke Depoorter, and considered what the future holds for the organization.

›› Yoda reviewed photobooks a couple of weeks ago on Blake Andrews’ blog. We can’t believe we missed it. Work by Vivian Maier, Duane Michals, Rinko KawauchiAlec Soth and John Gossage, and The PhotoBook Review were amongst the titles critiqued by the Jedi Master. On the Gossage/Soth collaboration The Auckland Project: “Tack this poster to their dorm room I’m guessing few collectors shall. In protective cover will it remain. Hmm. Yeesss.”

›› The Rolling Stones celebrate their 50th anniversary this week and Magnum has reached into the archives, posting on their Facebook page a vintage Guy Le Querrec image of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards at a show in 1967. Over at The New Yorker, Photo Booth has launched an 11-image slideshow of photos from the band’s early years, including a birds-eye shot of fans mobbing the band’s vehicle after a press conference at the Hilton, NYC in 1965.

›› More in anniversary news…In celebration of  the 50th anniversary of Andy Warhol’s first solo exhibition, at the Ferus Gallery in Los Angeles, The Metropolitan Museum of Art is planning Regarding Warhol: Fifty Artists, Fifty Years, which opens in September and will also feature works by photographers Cindy Sherman and Robert Mapplethorpe. Over at NokiaConnects Joel Willians recounts the 5 Strangest Habits of Andy Warhol, asking the age-old question, “Eccentricity and genius go hand in hand, right?”

Big Shots: Photography at ‘The Sports Show’

Neil Leifer’s 1965 photograph of Muhammad Ali hovering over a knocked-out Sonny Liston may be the most famous sports shot of all time, but you will not find it at “The Sports Show,” a photography and new-media exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Nor will you find a single picture of the most famous athlete of the past 15 years, Tiger Woods, or of the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team celebrating its miracle win, or of American soccer player Brandi Chastain ripping off her shirt after clinching the 1999 World Cup. Can you really mount a worthwhile retrospective of sports photography without these iconic athletes and moments? Turns out you can. In fact, “The Sports Show” (on view through May 13) is better off for it.

When I checked out the exhibit on opening day, I expected a greatest-hits compendium of sports images. But curator David Little took a more surprising approach, choosing photographs that offer more social commentary than celebration. For example, the circa-1899 portrait of female high school students playing basketball in dresses sends the message that women, too, could participate in emerging sports. (The picture was taken by Frances Benjamin Johnston, whom LIFE magazine once called “the closest thing to an official court photographer the United States has ever had.”) More than a century later, that message continues to resonate: Title IX has delivered athletic opportunities to millions of girls, but female athletes still fight for the same opportunities and recognition that boys get.

The exhibit casts a skeptical eye on the emotional energy we expend on sports. In 1970 photographer Tod Papageorge toured the country capturing fans at big events like the Iron Bowl (the Alabama-vs.-Auburn college-football rivalry) and opening day at Yankee Stadium. Some people in the crowd are goofing off, but many others appear pensive. The photographs invite the viewer to wonder what the spectators are thinking and feeling. Is their favorite team losing? Or are real-life stresses still on their minds? Papageorge bitingly called this project—a portion of which is on display in Minneapolis—American Sports, 1970, or How We Spent the War in Vietnam.

Read More: “Big Shots: The impact of sports on society, seen through the camera’s eye.”

The Sports Show is on view at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts now through May 13.

MORE: Check out TIME.com’s new sports blog: Keeping Score.

DEVELOP Tube: A Photographic Resource Grows

Available on both YouTube and Vimeo, DEVELOP Tube is a video channel that offers resources for photographers. Each project featured on DEVELOP Tube is carefully curated from the photography-related selections of the two video services, with the goal of reflecting and informing some aspect of the photographic community. Thousands of videos are showcased there, from behind the scenes looks at the editing process to trailers for photography-related films. There’s a discussion with photographer Stephen Shore, who helped popularize color photography, about working with Andy Warhol, as well as a multimedia piece about the U.S. economy. Elsewhere, there’s an interview with war photographer Joao Silva, who was wounded in Afghanistan in 2010, about “the biggest fight of the photographer.”

DEVELOP Tube on Vimeo

DEVELOP Tube on Vimeo

But DEVELOP Tube is only a small part of a larger project.

DEVELOP’s founder, Erica McDonald, is an American photographer, curator and teacher, whose career has taken her into magazines, newspapers, galleries and schools around the world. But, she says, she had come to recognize that her geographic location and her connections were giving her a leg up on other photographers, those in isolated regions or just beginning their careers. She wanted to change that.

“I see people around the world who maybe don’t have the same foundation or connections or even opportunities or time or whatever it is, to know what’s what, what grants are available or where they could show their work,” she says. “I felt like I could do something to contribute to our community this way.”

That contribution is DEVELOP Photo, a website slated to launch as the next phase of McDonald’s project. Working as a “one-man band” except for back-end web engineering, she has also built the whole thing from scratch. She says DEVELOP Tube is just a teaser for the larger initiative. “Little did I realize it was going to be about two years later and I would’ve been working around the clock,” she says.

The project took on a life of its own and will, in its final iteration, include an online resource library, education workshops, a magazine aspect and more. Even now, the video channels are a rich source of photographic information. A few weeks ago, DEVELOP collaborated with other photography organizations (like Daylight Magazine and Slideluck Potshow) to host a “Women in Multimedia” night in Bologna, Italy, to showcase the work of many multimedia artists from around the world. Some participated as solo artists and some were part of a group multimedia piece. The event was the source of the works in the gallery shown above, and was part of a larger exhibit called Uncommon Intimacy, which was co-curated by McDonald and is on view now through March 15. And McDonald also is working on collaborating to produce a documentary photography workshop, to be held in New York City this coming June.

McDonald isn’t quite sure what the future holds once the full site launches. “I don’t want it to become a commercial endeavor per se, but I’m not sure I want it to become a non-profit,” she says, but the project continues to expand. “Whoever we work with, it should be in the collaborative spirit. It’s a really interesting, vibrant, alive confluence of pieces.”

Erica McDonald is an American photographer based in New York City. Find out more here.

Melissa Harris on Merce Cunningham


Merce Cunningham in Totem Ancestor, 1942. Photograph by Barbara Morgan. (Courtesy the Estate of Barbara Morgan and Bruce Silverstein Gallery.)
Melissa Harris is Editor in Chief of Aperture magazine, editor of Merce Cunningham: Fifity years and Cunningham’s Other Animals, as well as the upcoming ePub Merce Cunningham: 65 Years, co-edited with Trevor Carlson. She is a Trustee of the John Cage Trust.

The irony is not lost on me—as a photo-editor who has devoted many years to a medium known for stilling, or capturing, time, decisive or otherwise—that I should be equally consumed by another medium, one that defies any notion of “capture,” that I am seduced by dance’s very impermanence, especially in the case of Merce Cunningham. Cunningham’s choreography never leaves even a storyline to hang onto in its wake, but rather evinces a kind of isness, as if each dance has an ineffable essence that might somehow be touched, experienced, and that remains vital and resonant long after the curtain falls, so that endings are somehow intangible.

Cunningham’s sensibility was as much about time as about space—or, better, it was about the coexistence of the two and, unlike what transpires in much photography, time is liberated from illustration in a Cunningham dance. Things don’t have to happen in any narrative sense. Time is more about duration—which is in part why John Cage, and the other composers with whom Cunningham collaborated, had such freedom. In photography, conversely, the precise moment at which a picture is created may make all the difference—from evidentiary images to sports coverage to street shots to dance photography.

Which gets me thinking about the ephemeral—an idea that rarely pertains to the photographic object.

Of course photography can help to anchor that which is fleeting—whether it is Michael Jordan in the air, or Cunningham, as in Barbara Morgan’s image of his early solo, Totem Ancestor, 1942.  (Morgan—one of Aperture’s founders–collaborated closely with Martha Graham, and first photographed Cunningham when he was dancing with Graham’s troupe, beginning in 1939.).

Should art have a life span, like nature’s processes?  Looking at Robert Rauschenberg’s marvelous “Combine,” Monogram (1955–59), in a museum exhibition some years ago—the stuffed Angora goat on its platform, trapped under Plexiglas (I assume)—I was so saddened. This poor creature—once part of an irreverent, funny work built of materials that belie any intent of endless durability—is now subdued by the art world, forever viewable, but oddly spiritless in its cage. . . . Okay, that’s perhaps unfair. The choice of materials may certainly have been in part due to the artist’s poverty at the time of the work’s making. And I understand that if a museum pays millions or whatever dollars for something, the mandate is that it will last. Furthermore, I’m all for artists being able to sell their work—how else might they survive? I am of course grateful, too, for the opportunity to see work that, if not for profoundly good caretaking, I might never have had the chance to see.

But what if the integrity of the work is at stake? How does that affect its value—in more than the monetary sense? Maybe the pertinence of art is the thing itself, its “quality of life,” rather than its longevity?

My guess is that, when the supremely generous Rauschenberg was alive, had something technical gone awry with the aging Monogram, he would have been quite willing to pitch in. I say this with some conviction: in 1999, the New York City Ballet staged Cunningham’s 1958 dance Summerspace, which features an exquisite, pointillist backcloth by Rauschenberg, who from 1954 to 1964 was the Merce Cunningham Dance Company’s resident designer—décor, costumes, lighting. David Vaughan, archivist of the Cunningham Dance Foundation, in his book Merce Cunningham: Fifty Years (Aperture, 1997), notes that the original set was executed with the help of Jasper Johns (who had the title of artistic advisor to the Company from 1967 to 1980). During the intermission of the Lincoln Center performance, Rauschenberg paced outside the theater, smoking a cigarette and clearly vexed. He had apparently wanted to do a little work on the backcloth for these performances—but the unions wouldn’t allow him to touch it. Go figure. . . .

Jasper Johns spray-painting Carolyn Brown’s costume for Canfield, 1969. Photograph by James Klosty. (Courtesy the artist.)

It is gratifying, then, to consider Richard Rutledge’s photograph of a hands-on Rauschenberg assembling the “machine” for Cunningham’s 1961 AEon, or James Klosty’s image of Johns spray-painting Carolyn Brown’s costume for the 1969 dance Canfield (as Brown’s partner at the time, Klosty had unprecedented access touring with and documenting the Company, as well as a unique and sensitive perspective.  His exceptional images provide an intimate take on the MCDC from the late 1950s to the early ‘70s.).  Here is the ephemeral in the making: these kinds of moments are the stuff of photography. And then there are images of the dances themselves—from the very earliest photos, at the Company’s inception in 1953, right up to those made by Stephanie Berger and Anna Finke late in Cunnginham’s life, in the natural light of his “Beacon Events” at Dia:Beacon (2007–9). And finally there are the images from New York’s Park Avenue Armory “Events”—first, the memorial “Event” in October 2009, and most recently those of the last six performances of the Company’s farewell Legacy Tour, at the end of last year, danced under Daniel Arsham’s dramatic “clouds.”

If dance is ultimately fleeting, photography makes for a compelling partner.

50 words V/14/72

Sleeping till 11:30. (All previous-night flight, & all day studio-catch-up-late movie TV.) Rare to really sleep long. Real refreshment. Day spent cooking beans, writing article never finish that article (East & West=never best). Evening with CH 13—movies of the 40’s. Old movies are like old photographs. You remember so many surrounding things. John’s call from Koln: back from Bonn, off to London, diarrhea outside hotel, clothes in laundromat.

—Merce Cunningham, from his book Other Animals: Drawings and Journals, (Aperture, 2002)

I first met Merce, thanks to John Cage’s intervention, in the early 1980s, when I was an undergrad writing a senior essay on their collaborations with Rauschenberg and Johns. But it wasn’t until nearly twenty years later, while I was editing Merce’s book Other Animals, that I really had an opportunity to spend time with him. Sometime in 2001, I was invited to his loft–that he had shared with Cage–for dinner (prepared by Laura Kuhn, executive director of the John Cage Trust). David Vaughan was there, as was Margarete Roeder, Cunningham’s gallerist and friend who helped keep him in art supplies. At the end of the evening, as I was leaving, Merce handed me a shopping bag filled with steno pads from the 1970s onward, suggesting that I might enjoy looking at them. A selection of these drawings and journals (with additional works and photographs sprinkled throughout) eventually evolved into Other Animals, and he worked closely with designer Wendy Byrne and me on the format and sequencing of this book.  Earlier, when editing Vaughan’s Merce Cunningham: Fifty Years in the mid-nineties, I had also periodically brought Merce layouts of that book to review. He had one consistent complaint: “Do there have to be so many pictures of me?”   My “YES!” was non-negotiable.

Cunningham may not have liked photographs of himself (or perhaps what he might have felt as the intrusion of the photographer), but photographers loved taking his picture, and therefore evocative images of him abound, by myriad artists, including: Richard Avedon, Imogen Cunningham, Arnold Eagle, Johan Elbers, Allen Ginsberg, Lois Greenfield, Timothy Greenfield-Sanders, Peter Hujar, Annie Leibovitz, Babette Mangolte, Jack Mitchell, Peter Moore, Max Waldman, and many others. And there are of course other kinds of portraits: both Rauschenberg and Andy Warhol, for example, made works incorporating Cunningham’s image; and his footprint appears in Johns’s Numbers (1963), commissioned for the lobby of the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center. (According to Vaughan: “Johns had Cunningham step in the upper right-hand corner of the painting so that ‘Merce would get his foot in the door’ of the new theater.”) Even William Eggleston, not a portraitist, expressed to me his interest in photographing Cunningham. Eggleston recalled that he’d once driven from Memphis to Little Rock to see the Company perform. “It was marvelous,” he said. “Then after, people were asking him questions: ‘Was the dance supposed to be about this, or about that?’ And he simply said: ‘No, it’s not supposed to be anything but what it is.’” Eggleston added: “People ask me what my work is about. I also just want them to have their own experience.”

Cunningham was adventurous and stunningly prescient. Toward the end of 1989, as part of his choreographic process, he began to use a computer program developed for him, then called LifeForms. His 1991 piece Trackers (the title inspired by the “tracking” function on the computer) was the first work he made utilizing this technology.  And in a 1997 snapshot by digital artist Shelley Eshkar, a seemingly elated Cunningham looks on while two of his dancers don reflective spheres to track their form and movement with optical sensors. Eshkar and his partner Paul Kaiser were introducing the choreographer to “motion capture” (from which derived their 1998 project Hand-Drawn Spaces, and the following year Cunningham’s dance BIPED—the latter titled after a computer program by the same name designed for Cunningham). In the image, one can sense Cunningham’s sheer pleasure in the untried, in moving beyond his preconceptions—always key for him, as for Cage.

Merce Cunningham in the early stages of creating a dance to be incorporated into a multimedia film, installation, and computer project titled Hand-drawn Spaces. Working at the motion capture studio at Biodivision, San Francisco, in April 1997, in collaboration with Paul Kaiser and Shelley Eshkar of Riverbed Media, MC choreographs on screen using “Biped,” a computer program designed especially for him by Michael Girard and Susan Amkraut of Unreal Pictures. Reflective spheres are attached to dancers Jeannie Steele and Jared Phillips to track their form and movement with optical sensors. The data is stored in the computer, where MC can refine it, manipulate it, and develop a choreography. Photograph by Shelley Eshkar. (Courtesy the artist.)

 

Cunningham’s own interest in engaging with new technology was one of the principal motivations behind our forthcoming epub, Merce Cunningham: 65 Years. Aperture, in collaboration with the Cunningham Dance Foundation, is preparing to launch the project this spring (in conjunction with Aperture’s own sixtieth anniversary, as well as the centennial of John Cage’s birth). With the support of the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation and the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation, Aperture, in collaboration with the Cunningham Dance Foundation, is preparing to launch the project this spring (in conjunction with Aperture’s own sixtieth anniversary, as well as the centennial of John Cage’s birth).

Many in the Cunningham orbit have nicknamed Vaughan’s Merce Cunningham: Fifty Years “the bible”–and as one dance aficionado insisted to me: “Nobody lets their bible disappear!”  Inspired by Cunningham’s spirited vision, the original print book will now be transformed:  Vaughan is updating the text of the Fifty Years book to 2009 (the year of Cunningham’s death), and the entire text will be digitized. The epub will incorporate fifteen-second excerpts of dance footage (with sound)—selected by Vaughan, Trevor Carlson (executive director of the CDF), and others—from some forty dances performed over the span of Cunningham’s career. Also featured will be brief excerpts of interviews with Cunningham from writer/producer Nancy Dalva’s remarkable series “Mondays with Merce,” and a selection from Vaughan’s discussions with Cunningham made after the publication of Fifty Years—in this way bringing Cunningham’s distinctive voice into the picture, so to speak.  There will also be selected drawings and journal pages; a consideration of the Legacy Tour by Bonnie Brooks (CDF Legacy fellow); as well as additional photographs from 1994–2009.  With the help of developer Larry Larson and designer Didier García, our hope is to create an enduring, accessible, multimedia project that will be experiential and more of Merce Cunningham and his extraordinary work, than simply about him.

The final stage performance of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company took place at the Théâtre de la Ville in Paris on December 23, 2011. The last dance of the evening was the sublime BIPED. The invocation of nature’s cycles and multiplicity, the poetry in the “non-endings” of so many Cunningham dances—as the curtain falls, one still sees the activity, the movement, continuing beneath it, ongoing—teased this time with particular poignancy. The notion that nothing has stopped just because the curtain has come down fed the desire for the piece to continue, not to end, so that we would not have to say goodbye. The audience’s longing was palpable, and literally heart-in-your-throat breathtaking.

I began this meditation thinking about dance, specifically Cunningham, and photography. Photography, as we know, captures. It allows us to not entirely have to say goodbye, and it offers us the memories of, as Cunningham embracingly wrote,  “so many surrounding things.”

—Melissa Harris, January 2012

Biped, 1999. Holley Farmer (left) and Lisa Boudreau (right). Photograph by Stephanie Berger. (Courtesy the artist.)

Curate Your Own Online Back-to-School Photo Collection, Win a Prize for Best Set

warholblog.jpg
Andy Warhol, Desktop, Unknown; Gift of the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc.
fortinoblog.jpg
Scott Fortino, Jenner School, Alphabet, 1998; MoCP permanent collection
delanoblog.jpg
Jack Delano, Little Girl Under Portrait of G. Washington, P.R., 1947, printed 1978; Extended loan of the Baum Family Collection

No more pencils. No more books. Instead, the MoCP is celebrating the new semester with a back-to-school inspired collection of photographs from its online archives. And it’s calling on you to do the same! The MoCP will award a prize to the top collection.

To curate your own online collection, go to the MoCP’s Collections page and register to create an account. From there, use the advanced search feature to scroll through the museum’s permanent collection—which includes many photographs that have not been publically displayed in years—and choose photos to include in your own, personally-curated, back-to-school “group.”

To share a group, simply create and send a Share ID to your friends who are also logged onto the system, or enter into the MoCP’s contest by posting either your Share ID or a link to your set in the comments section below!

Lacking inspiration? Use the Share ID 6cl5wiq3 to view the museum’s sample collection, which assembles seemingly disparate artists like Andy Warhol, Scott Fortino and Jack Delano to examine the common threads in their photographs regarding education as an institution.

Curate Your Own Online Back-to-School Photo Collection, Win a Prize for Best Set

warholblog.jpg
Andy Warhol, Desktop, Unknown; Gift of the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc.
fortinoblog.jpg
Scott Fortino, Jenner School, Alphabet, 1998; MoCP permanent collection
delanoblog.jpg
Jack Delano, Little Girl Under Portrait of G. Washington, P.R., 1947, printed 1978; Extended loan of the Baum Family Collection

No more pencils. No more books. Instead, the MoCP is celebrating the new semester with a back-to-school inspired collection of photographs from its online archives. And it’s calling on you to do the same! The MoCP will award a prize to the top collection.

To curate your own online collection, go to the MoCP’s Collections page and register to create an account. From there, use the advanced search feature to scroll through the museum’s permanent collection—which includes many photographs that have not been publically displayed in years—and choose photos to include in your own, personally-curated, back-to-school “group.”

To share a group, simply create and send a Share ID to your friends who are also logged onto the system, or enter into the MoCP’s contest by posting either your Share ID or a link to your set in the comments section below!

Lacking inspiration? Use the Share ID 6cl5wiq3 to view the museum’s sample collection, which assembles seemingly disparate artists like Andy Warhol, Scott Fortino and Jack Delano to examine the common threads in their photographs regarding education as an institution.

David Kimelman

Brooklyn photographer, David Kimelman, has created a body of work that once again brings Andy Warhol’s prediction of our desire for 15 minutes of fame into the spotlight. The series, Reality Wanted, are portraits of individuals who are drawn to performing on reality television. The result is ultimately a feeling of sadness about needing to find validation and affection in the public eye.

David is a graduate of Pratt Institute and his photographs “reveal the tenuous and often contradictory relationships people have with the natural world”, but they also take a look at our society, our culture, and our place in time. He is a regular photography contributor at East Village Boys and Dirty Magazine, including features on Barnaby Whitfield, Cammi Climaco, Jeffrey and Cole, and Scooter LaForge.

Reality Wanted is just one of David’s terrific project, another will be featured in the coming months.

Reality Wanted is a series of portraits of individuals who hope to be cast on a reality television show. I became interested in fame and people who seek fame when I worked for a number of years as an art director at Star Magazine. During that time, I found myself particularly drawn towards those who were looking to become famous through the medium of reality television.

Though some of the people I photographed for this series have particular skills and talents that warrant our attention, such as singing, cooking, or design, the main commodity being offered by my subjects is simply themselves. Many of the people I photographed just want to have a television show made about their lives.

The subjects are all shot in their own clothes and have styled themselves. By letting them style and pose themselves with minimal direction, I am allowing them to be seen in the way in which they want to present themselves to the world. However, I also want to show the vulnerability that goes along with putting themselves in the public eye. The photo sessions took place in New York City, Las Vegas and Southern Florida.

In addition to taking their picture, I asked my subjects to answer some questions about their interest in being on reality TV.