Weekend Links #24

Weekend Links is a collection of the interesting bits and pieces that I’ve come across on the streets and online. The weekly post is my chance to share with you a few things from the week, in a list compiled during the weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.

A few things I enjoyed last week: 1. Seeing this photo, a prelude to a perfect weekend (image by frl. zucker) 2. Listening to a wonderful Fresh Air interview with Dan Savage and Terry Miller on NPR 3. Reading an article about Photojournalism in the Age of New Media in The Atlantic 4. Discovering the Drawing Nature Journal by Jill Bliss 5. Interview with The New York Times multimedia producer Zach Wise on photojournalism 6. Reading Austin Kleon advice on How to Steal Like an Artist (pictured below, via the post family)

dreaming auf Deutsch

Lately, bits of German have begun to peek through my dreams. After several years of studying the language, to have a phrase, sentence, even a conversation appear in my dreams feels like I have passed a sacred milestone. Looking a bit more into the link between language learning and dreams, I found this New York Times article, which reads:

"...dreamtime fluency is a metaphor for becoming an insider, someone for whom the language isn’t foreign and whose own nativeness is neither feat nor achievement; it just is, as natural as breathing."

I wish I could say German is no longer foreign, but that probably won't be the case for many years. One curious thing, until the last six months I have never thought about language consciously while dreaming - in what I assume was English, my native language. Something about the appearance of German in my dreams causes me to actually register the change. It's an "Aha, this is something different, but I know it" moment. Strange, isn't it? Do you speak any other languages? Have they ever appeared in your dreams? (image via)

fishermen by Stratis Vogiatzis

I first came across the work of Greek photographer Stratis Vogiatzis a few years ago when I heard about the publication of his book Inner World. A long-term photographer, he captures something wondrous and inexplicable in the worlds he explores. Equally, his descriptions of his projects cast poetic shadows alongside his photographs. After three years and more than seven countries into fishermen, I talked with Stratis about the project, where it came from and where it has taken him.

When did you start the project? Stratis Vogiatzis: I started this project three years ago and it is still in progress. I started taking pictures of my small island in Greece, Chios, and then I continued to document the life of the fishermen in the whole region of the Mediterranean Sea and in more than seven countries. I don't know when I will finish. I think deep inside me I don't want this project to end because I don't want to lose all the magic that is present when I am inside a fishing boat in the middle of the sea. And I don't want to stop eating fresh fish.

Why were you drawn to the subject of fishermen? Stratis Vogiatzis: I was born and raised on an island and I spent all my childhood close to the sea. The sea is very important for my balance. When I am away from the sea for a long time I don't feel okay. When I was doing a project about this island, I photographed fishermen as well. Someone asked me why I was travelling with them and I answered that I was doing a project about the island. He answered, why don't you make a project about fishermen as well. I thought that it was a great idea. Doing a project that has to do with the sea? Fantastic!!

How has the project changed over the years? What was the original focus of the project, what is it now? Stratis Vogiatzis: At the beginning, it was more of a reportage. I wanted to document the various forms of fishing and document the life of the fishermen in a more journalistic way. Over time, this changed because I changed as a photographer. At the beginning, photography for me was about the image. Now it is about the experience. It is not about a good or a bad image. It is about taking a true or a false image. Although it sounds heavy to say that photographs - in order to have value for me - must be the document of a religious experience. The fishermen project evolved into a very personal project and all the images that have descriptive value have no importance for me now. In a way, through the world of the fishermen I speak about my longings, my fears, my need to communicate with others.

How much time do you usually spend with the fishermen on their boats? Stratis Vogiatzis: It depends. The longest I stayed in a boat was one week. But it’s not only in the boats. I also spent a lot of time with them in the ports. The thing is that I wanted to spend more time with them. I have worked on this project for three years, but not with the intensity that I desired.

In your description of the project, you talk about the energy of the sea. How do you think if affects your photography? Stratis Vogiatzis: Many times I felt a drama was taking place in front of my eyes, a drama that shows the desperate, primeval need of the people to tame nature, to overcome their weakness against the power of the sea and demand that she obeys their will. It is my strong belief that 'the people of the sea', as Proust called them, are the gatekeepers of a world totally unfamiliar to us. Being with them is a unique experience, to see how they deal with the wind and waves, the methods and the sea paths they follow when they hunt the fish and the incredible stories they share. It always comes as a great pleasure to observe the very special relation they share with the sea and its secrets. The connection that these people have with the sea is something that we cannot understand. They know the sea like we know a certain neighborhood in the city we live and, at the same time, the sea remains the biggest mystery for them. Although they know her mood, the winds, the currents, nevertheless they will always be foreigners invading an alien space.

What is it like to photograph in such a small space with lots of people and without much privacy? Stratis Vogiatzis: What strikes me is the simplicity of their life inside the boat. The word personal space doesn't exist in their vocabulary; they share a small space inside the cabin that is transformed into a small world in which they laugh, fight, communicate, spend time together. They eat upon a newspaper and when they finish eating, they gather the newspaper and put another one where they drink tea or coffee. When they are exhausted, they simply lean on each other or they find a small corner where they can rest. They are is no complexity in the life of the fishermen, neither I think the hypocrisy of pretending to be something different than they really are. What overwhelmed me the most was the authenticity of their lives and the fact that they are keeping the same simple, 'insignificant' way of life. The limitation of the space they share is exchanged by the infinity of the ocean and the harsh conditions of their work are exchanged by the freedom the share being in the middle of the ocean. Every fisherman is a traveller and every fishing day is a journey for them.

Has your experience photographing the fisherman made you reflect on your profession as a photographer? Are there any parallels? Stratis Vogiatzis: I’ve never seen photography as a profession. I still don’t know how to act as a professional. I wished I knew, but I don’t. On the other hand, I consider myself very lucky that I can do what I love in photography and still pay the bills. I don’t think that the fishermen project made me a good professional, rather the opposite. At the same time though, I found a space inside me, a connection with the photography that I want to preserve intact.

All photos used with permission from the photographer. To read more about the project, click here.

before I die

This project by artist Candy Chang has generated a lot of talk, but I had to write about it for those who don't know it yet. Chang converted the side of an abandoned house in her New Orleans neighborhood into a giant chalkboard, with a prompt to inspire passersby to write their aspirations for life. She explains the objective of the project:

Before I Die transforms neglected spaces into constructive ones where we can learn the hopes and aspirations of the people around us.

After seeing this project for the first time, I found myself thinking about what I want to do before I die. Marcus and I recently made a goal to travel to a new country every year, I hope to write a book in the near future, and I want to be fluent in Germany someday. There are so many things, but in the end I just want to be content and feel like I was a part of this world. What do you want to do/feel/be before you die?

spring scenes

A perfect spring day. Waking Saturday morning to fresh air and the breaking light. Grocery shopping, a trip to the fruit and vegetable market, over the bridge to take food scraps to the neighborhood zoo. Greeting a friend sitting in a corner café, a stop at the flower shop. An afternoon in the sun, a book and fresh strawberries within reach. Balcony doors open to the sounds of the neighborhood taking in the spring.

Weekend Links #23

Weekend Links is a collection of the interesting bits and pieces that I’ve come across on the streets and online. The weekly post is my chance to share with you a few things from the week, in a list compiled during the weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.

A few things I enjoyed last week: 1. Spotting these beautiful, curious etchings by Il Lee (via but does it float) 2. Attending the opening of photographer Anne Schwalbe's Blindschleiche und Riesenblatt exhibition at Foam 3. Reading this great post about life in a foreign country and the support of love. A familiar feeling 4. Watching the documentary Inside Job and the great editing of its familiar, but still sobering message 5. Starting to read Herr Lehmann, my first book in German

a country a year

As we sat down for breakfast, he looked over at me with a question, "Shall we make it a goal to travel to one new country per year?" This was a goal I could live with. The past years have taken us to new and familiar parts of the world. In 2007, I took him to the US for the first time after I had made my first visit to Poland. In 2008, we traveled throughout Switzerland. He had been before, but it was my first time. We saw Geneva, Interlaken, Zurich, Neuchatel, Solothurn, and a dozen villages in between.

The summertime took us to Luxembourg (new) and next-door Belgium (familiar). Throughout 2009, we explored his homeland: Berlin (natürlich), Munich, Cologne, Potsdam, and Dresden. Two more trips to the US to see Oregon and Washington. He had his first American Christmas in 2010, a year that took me for the first time to South Africa, then Portugal.

Making a goal out of this is not a bad idea. "Does a country count as new if only one of us has been?" He has explored the  Scandinavian countries, I have covered Japan, South Korea, Thailand, and Cambodia. "Yes." This summer will take us to Turkey. Next year, hopefully to Indonesia. "It's a deal."

Images of Interlaken, Switzerland.

a tree cocooned

Beautiful photo, incredible after effect of the flooding in Pakistan. Image by Russell Watkins/Department for International Development via unicornology)

An unexpected side-effect of the flooding in parts of Pakistan has been that millions of spiders climbed up into the trees to escape the rising flood waters.

Because of the scale of the flooding and the fact that the water has taken so long to recede, many trees have become cocooned in spiders webs. People in this part of Sindh have never seen this phenonemon before - but they also report that there are now less mosquitos than they would expect, given the amoungt of stagnant, standing water that is around.

It is thought that the mosquitos are getting caught in the spiders web thus reducing the risk of malaria, which would be one blessing for the people of Sindh, facing so many other hardships after the floods.

Weekend Links #22

Weekend Links is a collection of the interesting bits and pieces that I’ve come across on the streets and online. The weekly post is my chance to share with you a few things from the week, in a list compiled during the weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.

A few things I enjoyed last week: 1. Spending a day in the Hague for the Movies that Matter film festival, running until 30 March 2. Interviewing interesting people, like Ed Kashi, Andrew DeVigal, Nanako Koyama, and more 3. Spotting the photography by Ye Rin Mok (pictured above, via thank you, okay) 4. Hearing about Velour, a clothing brand started in Göteborg, Sweden that now has a store in De Negen Straatjes (via GYPROT) 5. Spotting a rare occasion when my two homes (Amsterdam + Portland) come together in the form of Olivia Bee's photography being part of a publication by Foam, the photography museum in Amsterdam (pictured below)

from afar

Steps across the continent. A balcony in Rome, vino and veritas. Murakami in Budapest, when I was on my Nietzsche kick and you insisted on singing Ella Fitzgerald through the night. Surviving a phone booth battle in Bratislava, then the nighttime visitors from Australia. A doorway in London, covered in mayonnaise. Old bookshops and stale cigarettes. Then Amsterdam. Poetry and farewells.

A 'hello' from afar, dear friend. A digital kiss, or three. Dutch style. Left cheek, right cheek, left.

Interview with Nanako Koyama: every morning

I love the quiet routine of the morning time. Discovering Japanese photographer Nanako Koyama and her project Every Morning (via oh, hello there), I was curious to know more about her visual exploration into people and their mornings. Here, a few questions I posed to Nanako:

Why did you choose to explore the connection between people and mornings? Nanako Koyama: Well, I grew an interest in exploring that which makes someone an individual―like the series '5 Stories About Rooms'―this was about exploring peoples' individualities and idiosyncrasies as well, in a way. Anyway, I was thinking that the moments before breakfast illuminate a person's real personality, or parts of it. When eating breakfast, one's brain finally becomes activated. To put it the other way around, before eating breakfast your brain is still kind of asleep and it feels like this is the only waking moment when you're not really in control of yourself. I just thought this "being yourself" in the morning would be interesting to explore. This is why I chose breakfast as my subject.

I wrote a postscript in Japanese but I'm still working on an English version. I'll post it as soon as possible too.

How do you approach the people in your photography? Do you know them personally or do you work with people unknown? Nanako Koyama: For this series I asked my friends if they would let me take their photos. Most of the time I take photos of people I know. I like to take photos after I've thought hard about the concept and composition. I do sometimes take photos of strangers. Even though I like to think about concepts or composition though, I mostly take 'snap shot' style photographs.

What was something you learned about people during this project? Nanako Koyama: At first I thought that as the country changes, the culture and people would change along with it to some degree. Because of this I was thinking about exploring a photo series about the differences between people. When I was actually taking photos though, I realized that the differences between countries are very confused and whilst different there were a lot of cultural similarities between the countries, especially in regards to breakfast time. Even now, with national boundaries swept away, these people―my friends―have their own cultural differences and these helped form their individualities. This is what I learned from this series.

Are you still working on the project? Nanako Koyama: I'm currently working as a studio assistant at the moment and so unfortunately I have little time to travel, however I would like to visit America or some other places where I've never been before in the future with this project in mind. So, yes, I can say I'm still working on it.

All photos used with permission from the photographer.

Weekend Links #21

Well, it's Thursday, not quite the weekend anymore, but I wanted to send out the weekend links I put together for my faithful readers. New and exciting projects at work have scrambled my familiar schedule and I'm still figuring out how to stay on top of my personal projects. Hope those of you in the northern hemisphere are also enjoying the first signs of spring!

Weekend Links is a collection of the interesting bits and pieces that I’ve come across on the streets and online. The weekly post is my chance to share with you a few things from the week, in a list compiled during the weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.

A few things I enjoyed last week: 1. Listening to an evening of The Decemberists at Paradiso. Just the bit of Pacific NW that I needed (pictured above via) 2. Stretching my writing muscles in a weekend workshop 3. Watching La Flâneur, a time-lapse video by Luke Shepard made up of 2000 photos of Paris 4. Reading the article The power of lonely (via something changed) 5. Reading The Elements of Content Strategy from A Book Apart. Nerdy work stuff that I can't wait to dive into 6. Receiving a note from a friend that reminded me of the importance of public broadcasting. To support NPR and PBS, sign this petition 7. Viewing amazing productions during a new multimedia contest (Blanco by Stefano De Luigi pictured below)

차 : cha : tea : Tee

Thinking about Korean tea lately. Remembering all the time I spent in the teahouses in Insadong - a favorite neighborhood in Seoul - on the weekends, lounging over a cup of tea and the Korean alphabet. My three favorites were quince, jujube, and plum tea. Always served in a beautiful, earthy cup with a small wooden spoon.

Although I traveled around much of the country, I never made it to famous green tea fields. However, I did learn how to perform a Korean tea ceremony, an elaborate ritual with specific equipment and certain gestures and moments for each part of the performance. The ritual of drinking tea was always best when served with delicate rice cakes, pictured below.

(image above via, image below via, last image via)

farm in the city

A few weeks ago, I discovered that a small children's farm (kinderboederij) in my neighborhood accepts donated vegetable and fruit scraps for the animals. Living in an apartment in the middle of Amsterdam doesn't leave much opportunity for gardening and definitely doesn't allow for a compost pile. At the farm, they keep goats, incredibly large hogs, rabbits, gerbils, two calves, chickens, a cat, and more. I'm so happy to be able to donate the leftovers to these cute city animals instead of throwing them away.

Weekend Links #20

Weekend Links is a collection of the interesting bits and pieces that I’ve come across on the streets and online. The weekly post is my chance to share with you a few things from the week, in a list compiled during the weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.

A few things I enjoyed this week: 1. Taking in the images of colored ink being mixed in water, captured with a high-speed camera by artist Alberto Seveso (pictured above, via 11.54) 2. Browsing the schedules for two upcoming film festivals in the Netherlands:  Food Film Festival 18-20 March in Amsterdam and Movies that Matter (Amnesty International Film Festival) 24-30 March in The Hague 3. Discovering a recipe for bulgogi-style tofu (via @seenandsaid) 4. Wishing I could watch the film adaptation of Norwegian Wood. Apparently nowhere to be found in my world 5. Watching the short film Time Doesn't Stand Still by Asa Mader and Benjamin Millepied. Beautiful. Watch it (pictured below in a photo by Valerie Sadoun, via le project d'amour) 6. Dancing to the beats of Berlin DJs Modeselektor and Apparat at 5DaysOff 7. Making banana pancakes with this tasty recipe

another read through Jane Eyre

An image leftover from a never-written holiday post was the inspiration for me to finally buy my own copy of the classic book Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. The film adaptation is now out in the States, although it doesn't look like it will make it over to Europe until the fall. Has anyone seen it? What did you think? I will bide my time waiting for the film with another read of this great novel (image via plush palate).

Weekend Links #19

Weekend Links is a collection of the interesting bits and pieces that I’ve come across on the streets and online. The weekly post is my chance to share with you a few things from the week, in a list compiled during the weekend. I hope you enjoy them as well.

A few things I enjoyed this week: 1. Browsing through the book Wild Animals (Wilde Dieren) by Dutch illustrator Rop van Mierlo (image and video below, via anothersomething) 2. Discovering The Makers, a photo project by Jennifer Causey with beautiful stories about people in Brooklyn who make things happen (Morris Kitchen pictured above, via frolic) 3. Browsing the Monkey See list of the all the films based on books coming out in 2011 4. Revisiting an old NYTimes article Why We Read 5. Although well into the year of the rabbit, enjoying this cute animation 6. Scouting out cinema notes at Smart Project Space 7. Walking through a sunny city and playing taste tester to Chef Marcus

[vimeo vimeo.com/17296041 w=500&h=400]