Pierre Pullis had a photography studio on Fulton Street, in New York City, but he spent a lot of time working outside its walls. For about four decades in the first half of the 20th century, he lugged his camera to some rather inconvenient places around the city—including beneath its boulevards. Read more
It’s easy to forget that the mounds of snow lining sidewalks each winter actually are comprised of billions of tiny crystals with individual grooves and feathered offshoots. A trio of photographs taken by Nathan Myhrvold, though, serves as a stunning reminder of that fact as they expose the intricacies hidden within each molecule.
To capture such crisp images, the Seattle-born photographer traveled to Fairbanks, Alaska, and Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada, where temperatures plunged to –20 °F. “Water, an incredibly familiar thing to all of us, is quite unfamiliar when you see it in this different view. The intricate beauty of snowflakes is derived from their crystal structure, which is a direct reflection of the microscopic aspects of the water molecule,” he says.
Formally trained in physics, Myhrvold spent 18 months building a custom camera with a cooled-stage microscope to ensure that the flakes remained frozen as he shot. Short-pulse, high-speed LED lights reduce the heat the instrument emits, and at a minimum, its shutter speed clocks in at 500 microseconds. Myhrvold says it’s the highest-resolution snowflake camera in existence.
Photographer Danny Lyon‘s images of New York City subway riders in 1966 were featured in an exhibit by MTA Arts & Design. Lyon has had a distinguished career as a photographer and filmmaker, most notably documenting the Civil Rights Movement and motorcycle gangs in the 1960s. Returning to New York City in late 1966, Lyon’s mother gave him the advice, “If you’re bored, just talk to someone on the subway.” Using a Rolleiflex camera and color transparency film, the images in “Underground: 1966” have never been publicly exhibited prior to this.
(via ABC News)
Early New York Times photographs of snowstorms really capture the havoc, misery and peril a blizzard could visit on the city in the late 1800s and early 1900s. The Blizzard of 1888, for example, dumped 21 inches of snow on the city and killed an estimated 200 New Yorkers. But even a garden-variety snowstorm in those days would menace New York’s main form of transit — horses — and impose human suffering of all kinds, while posing the immense logistical challenge of clearing an entire metropolis of snow.
The series of photographer Alex Bartsch titled ‘Retracing Reggae Record Sleeves in London‘ shows close shots of reggae record covers placed in the city of London. The records were originally photographed in various obscure places around London between 1967 and 1987, and were selected by Alex’s own record collection.
Taken from various locations within Central Park, Paolo Pettigiani’s eye-catching images portray the Big Apple in a new light. Positioning the city’s skyline as emerging from the park’s bright raspberry treescape, Pettigiani explains, “The purpose is to highlight the majesty and the contrast of nature included in the famous Big Apple’s skyscrapers.”
Having graduated in Visual Design and Communication from the Polytechnic University of Turin, the photographer counts his other big passion as snowboarding, and spends his winters as an instructor on the slopes.
The idea for Cubes came to the Dutch artists, Lernert & Sander, when newspaper de Volkskrant commissioned them to take a photo for a food-related feature. The only guidance the newspaper gave was that the work had to be tied to food. But, “food is an overwhelming subject,” Lernert said. “You can go so many different ways. How can you photograph something when you can’t decide?” So they did the only thing that could be done: make all of the food seem equally important by cutting everything into uniform pieces, he said.
As for the rationale behind which food they chose to use for the cubes? That was determined by what they could find in local grocery stores and shops. And the foods couldn’t be processed, at least in the traditional sense. “We realized that if you cut up everything, it has this nastiness of everything becoming processed,” explained Lernert. “That’s the inside story.”