Noel's work appears courtesy of O'Born Contemporary.

More Canadian photo sets:

Some Photographs from the All About Pets Show

Peter van Agtmael Won't Deny the Strange Allure of War

Superstorm Sandy, Six Months Later

Surrounded by howling kids and animals, I made my way across the show floor and discovered the Royal Canin Championship & Household Cat Show nestled towards the back of the room. Each section of the convention could be described as a miniature neighborhood, and in this case, it appeared as though the dog-people and cat-people were kept separate by a divide of birds and fish (naturally). Over in cat world, a loudspeaker called out pet names while nervous pet owners prepared their felines for a few moments on the podium. On planet canine, swarms of spectators who were anxious for animal affection hung around with breeders, who discussed the peculiar particulars of their profession. It was weird, and I loved it.

See more of Nathan's work on his internet website.

Magnum is probably the most famous photo agency in the world. Even if you haven't heard of it, chances are you're familiar with its images, be they Robert Capa's coverage of the Spanish Civil War or Martin Parr's very British holiday-scapes. Unlike most agencies, Magnum's members are selected by the other photographers on the agency, so becoming a member is a pretty gruelling process. As part of an ongoing partnership with Magnum, we will be profiling some of their photographers over the coming weeks.

Thus far, photographer Peter van Agtmael's career has primarily focused on documenting the effects of America's pos- 9/11 wars, both at home and abroad. Before traveling to Iraq in 2006, however, he covered certain issues surrounding HIV-positive refugees in South Africa and the Asian tsunami in 2005. After starting work in Iraq, he went on to win numerous awards, work in Afghanistan—both embedded and unembedded—and documented injured servicemen and their families. Oh, and he also shot the photo in the table of contents for the May issue of our magazine. We spoke to him about the mysterious attraction of conflict and the realities of censorship and care for a country's wounded.

USA. Wisconsin. 2007. Wounded veteran Raymond Hubbard plays with Star Wars lightsabers with his sons Brady and Riley.

Do you think that your education led to you working as a photographer in a war zone at the age of 24?
I grew up in the suburbs of Washington, DC. Those suburbs are like suburbs anywhere. It's easy to want to dream about more exciting places. When I was a kid, I was always very into pictorial history books—especially ones about WWII. I found it all very exciting and romantic, in its own way.

Obviously, you get older and the reality of these things kicks in, but the romance doesn't go away, even when you get caught in the midst of it; that's the strange and scary thing. I have had depraved and scary experiences in the last decade, but I've had beautiful ones too. The fact is that when you get caught in the middle of these things, in these places, there's an indescribable merit somehow to feeling involved, to be making a record for history, it is satisfying a certain natural curiosity—one with certain useful impulses and certain dark impulses, as well.

Do you think that built-in fascination with conflict applies to most soldiers, too?
I think it's across the board. If you have read Michael Herr's Dispatches, he puts it really well—though it may be a dated reference in some ways. He essentially said that you can't take the romance out of war. It's sort of innate. It's a genetically hardwired part of the experience. We all objectively realize the awfulness and brutality of it, but also for a lot of young people—especially men—there is this draw to it, not at all based on logic or rational thought. There are a million ways to try to intellectualize it, rationalize it, and break it into its tiny component pieces, but at the end of the day, there's a pull that can't really be described or explained away. At least not for me. I envy people who aren't drawn to war in a lot of ways. I've had a good and interesting life so far, but at times, I wish I had made different choices.

AFGHANISTAN. August 10, 2009. Marines of Fox Company, 2/8 Battalion swim in a canal that runs through their Forward Operating Base in Helmand province.

Your photos of graffiti on military bases betray, possibly, a waning enthusiasm for war, or these wars, at least, among soldiers. Did you see a great change in morale over your time in Afghanistan or Iraq?
I felt some dissatisfaction from when I first started covering these wars, which was at the beginning of 2006, when things were already going wrong. But actually what I most often found striking was the lack of curiosity that a lot of soldiers had about the ramifications of what they were doing. There was something sporting about what they were doing, people testing their limits, doing it for the love and protection of their comrades... but the big picture? I don't think the average guy on the ground is very curious about it.

Of course there are some who are extremely engaged in it, others not at all. I remember in Iraq in 2010, one guy came up to me who heard that I had been covering both Iraq and Afghanistan for some years. He wanted me to clarify if the wars had started at the same time. I was stunned by this question. Obviously there’s a pretty important historical trajectory of how these wars started. I asked how old he was, and he said 19. I realized then that he was just ten years old when the war in Afghanistan started, 12 when Iraq did—he joined the military in an era of wartime, and none of these things had made much impression on him.

I speak with a lot of qualifications when talking about these things, because the US military is a pretty diverse cross section of society, but I was surprised by a general lack of interest in why these wars were being fought at all. In terms of how these wars were going, I would say the average soldier was pretty skeptical.

IRAQ. Mosul. 2006. An Iraqi man is shoved to the ground to be searched after acting suspiciously. No contraband was found after a search of his person and house.

How have your own views on these wars changed?
I try not to draw too many conclusions before going into a situation. Despite working within the media, I have always had a pretty healthy skepticism about it. The problem is it’s very hard to interpret what’s going on in the longview, when you are seeing things on a day-to-day ground level. By going to these places I learned an extraordinary amount about them, and, more specifically, because I spent so much time embedded, I learned a lot about how America wages a war. Which is a fascinating thing, the way this gigantic military bureaucratic machine arrives, builds these structures, and then conducts itself.

That’s what I focused on. I became pretty jaded about ill-informed people—or even decently informed people—spouting their opinions that are often manipulated by their desire to be heard. When you sift through all the white noise of it, you end up with very little of real worth. I think that the meaning of historical events is really determined during them or in the immediate aftermath, so at this point I am very cautious about making judgments. I am of the wait-and-see category. But of course it's pretty dispiriting being there and seeing what's going on. I am left with more feelings of concern than optimism.

Was the military ever hard to work with? That "huge machine" you spoke of?
I have heard a few reports of censorship, but as a general structure, I think embedding with the military is amazingly open. There are certain unit commanders who might be concerned about you and what you are doing, more often out of concern for their men than for some sort of fear of reality getting out. But then you can just move to a different unit. I've never had any problems with censorship. I have been able to record the depraved core of these events. I am referring here more to the Americans. The British and the Germans, for example, allow hardly any access at all—certainly not to combat operations.

I heard of one instance involving the British photographer Jason Howe, who had taken a photo of an injured British soldier. The soldier in question gave full consent for the photos to be published, but the MOD tried to make it very difficult for him. To me, that feels very undemocratic. That said, I feel like the real censorship, in my experience, came from the media institutions. There's been a lot of discussion about what the iconic images of these wars are, but iconic images rely on a lot of dissemination, and I think that a lot of the images have just not been afforded that.

IRAQ. Mosul. 2006. Aftermath of a suicide bombing that killed nine and wounded 20.

You have taken a number of shocking images. Have you had trouble getting any of them seen?
Don’t get me wrong on this: I am not in favor of publishing graphic images for graphic images' sake. I think there are a lot of violent and brutal images that actually can have a distancing effect. But there are plenty of violent images that do bring one into the subject. Actually, my photo of a US soldier holding up a boot in front of a blood-spattered wall in the aftermath of a suicide bombing, for example, did get published, and in an American magazine, but only in the European edition. The article ran in both, but they substituted that photo with a generic image of some helicopters in the US edition. A similar thing happened with another photo of mine of an injured soldier staring at the camera. To me that amounts to the media’s reluctance to expose Americans to these brutal facts of war—wars that we are all incriminated in by the nature of our democracy. Lots of people try to absolve themselves by saying, "Oh, I voted against Bush, I did my part." But at the same time we haven't exactly had an antiwar movement to speak of. I find those gestures and claims a bit empty.

As well as photographing these wars, you spent a great deal of time following injured soldiers trying to reacclimate to life in America. What’s your impression of the situation for injured veterans in the US?
It’s an interesting question. What we have had in the US is a lot of "support for the soldiers," on the surface at least. After the Vietnam War, it went too far toward disgust for the soldiers. They were seen as bloodthirsty criminals rather than for the most part victims of poorly crafted foreign policy. In these wars it has flipped to the other side, where the soldiers are almost fetishized, but in a very superficial way. People are putting on all these Support Our Troops events, tying yellow ribbons on their cars... these very public displays. The idea of the soldier as noble and serving the nation is there, but what I have found in practical terms is that it's all pretty empty. Once it gets down to it, a lot of these soldiers I know who have been injured—physically or emotionally—no one wants to really care for them much beyond a pat on the back. The interest in soldiers is that sort of classic "Did you kill anyone over there? Did you get in any scary firefights?" sort of interest. The empathetic interest in soldiers is, I would say, extremely limited.

USA. New Orleans. 2012. Second line on a Sunday with the Dumaine Street Crew.

What are you working on now?
I am still working with these soldiers, but my focus is shifting onto looking at the other side of these wars. The Iraqis and Afghans who have been affected by the war. The diasporas of refugees around the world as a result of these wars. I was recently in Bavaria, which has very strict immigration laws, to look at one of these refugee camps where Afghan refugees are essentially in limbo, confined to Hitler-esque barracks for years at a time with limited support from the local government. The fallout from these wars is that, and it will continue for many years.

As well as war zones, you have also worked in civilian situations, photographing daily life in America, or the Egyptian revolution, or postearthquake Haiti. How does your working style differ in these settings?
I find myself attracted to fairly similar things in most situations. What I like about photography is that I can make myself as open as possible to what the place has to offer—obviously you can't avoid having a point of view, but you can be confronted by beautiful, novel, confusing, or shocking things without warning. That can happen in a war zone, or anywhere. I think as long as you are keeping your eyes open, it’s much the same.

Click through to see more photography by Peter van Agtmael.

AFGHANISTAN. August 18, 2009. US marines play a game involving landing beanbags in a hole as a helicopter lands in the background in a cloud of dust.

AFGHANISTAN. August 17, 2009. A marine sergeant and an Afghan village elder during a lull in conversation at a base in Mian Poshtay.

USA. South Carolina. 2011. New recruits to Fort Jackson prepare to board a bus to their barracks.

IRAQ. Mosul. 2006. A young boy is separated for questioning after a raid.

AFGHANISTAN. Nuristan. 2007. A helicopter comes in to land on an impromptu helipad built into the side of the mountain at the outpost of Aranas.

USA. New York. 2008. Fleet Week in Manhattan.

IRAQ. Rawah. 2006. A weary American soldier stands guard as a residential home is searched.

IRAQ. Mosul. 2006. Women grieve as their loved ones are detained after a raid that netted a large weapons cache.

IRAQ. Baghdad. 2006. Specialist Jeff Reffner, 23, moments after being wounded by a roadside bomb (IED).

USA. Chicago. 2011. Anthony Smith, a prisoner in the Cook County Jail system, complains to Sheriff Tom Dart about his treatment and sentence.

Previously - Ian Berry Takes Jaw-Dropping Photos of Massacres and Floods

More from Magnum:

Thomas Dworzak Has Photos of Sad Marines and Taliban Poseurs

Steve McCurry Photographs the Human Condition

Posh Snow, by Martin Parr

Photos by Vito Fun and Kaitlin Parry

Ortley Beach, New Jersey

Mantoloking, New Jersey

Far Rockaway, Queens, New York

Long Beach, New York

Seaside Heights, New Jersey

More on Sandy:

Burning Man Vs. Superstorm Sandy

Lost in the Flood: New Jersey After Sandy

Hurricane Sandy Turned These Photos into Acid Dreamscapes

Taipei will be released on June 4 from Vintage and is available for pre-order now. To read an early excerpt from the novel that we published in 2011 titled "Relationship Story," click here.

The Grand Hotel (est. 1952) was rated, in 1968, as "one of the world's top ten hotels," according to Wikipedia, "by the US Fortune magazine."

Richard Nixon is listed 1st under "Notable guests" on The Grand Hotel's Wikipedia page. Nixon "Stayed at the hotel during an Asian trip in 1965." Ronald Reagan is listed 2nd; Bill Clinton 3rd. 5th is Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino, Jr., who "Stayed at the hotel the night before his assassination on August 21, 1983."

My parents and I were coming to the hotel to eat at its buffet.

The hotel's main (and only, I think) fountain. Centered directly in front of the hotel, unmistakably the official focal point for those approaching from a distance, the lawn sprinkler-like fountain seemed "hilarious," I kept thinking. The impression, which was both blatant and nonchalant, was of a perfectly executed "extremely half-assed job."

The tiny, inaudible (I think) fountain, seen from the other side, at an angle. Taipei 101, far in the distance, is visible above & to the left of the fountain water.

There were ~15 of these, mostly dragons, in the lobby. I think this was the only fish.

I was barely aware of this until a child, who was running around, asked his dad, I think, if it was "a dragon's tail." Then (after the dad-like man confirmed it was) I felt like I'd been interested in it but (because I'd only suspected, not believed, that it was a dragon's ass, detached and isolated, or maybe because I didn't want to underscore my lack of curiosity) had "blocked it out."

The Grand Hotel is "owned by the Duen-Mou Foundation of Taiwan, a non-profit organization," according to Wikipedia.

I repeatedly thought "this is the funniest hotel I've ever been in" in an "I can't stress this enough" tone (and probably began to view more things as funny) after processing what this was: 2 crabs on a lily-pad, for sale as "LEATHER ART," with a "Certificate of Authenticity" reading "THIS IS TO CERTIFY THAT MY CREATION IS AN ORIGINAL HAND-MADE PIECE COMPLETED ON. THE INFORMATION LISTED HERE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO THE BEST OF OUR KNOWLEDGE" and, below that, the artist's name/signature & other, obscured information.

This ancient-looking, computer-like thing seemed hilarious, I thought, in a subdued manner.

I think I was grinning almost nonstop, from other things, when I saw this, which (after an "I can't believe it" reaction lasting maybe a few seconds) I processed as "having taken things to the next level."

The caption reads: "October 25, 2012 Yao Ming, the Chinese Moving Great Wall (former NBA player) was invited to visit Taiwan as the Special Olympics Global Ambassad or to support the Special Olympics athletes. The Grand Hotel was honored to support the event for charity."

The caption reads: "December 27th, 1978. U.S. Department of State Deputy Secretary, Warren Christopher's car was surrounded by protesters throwing eggs, causing the car to go at a low speed."

The caption reads: "The emergency underpasses of the Grand Hotel were completed when the main building was under construction. For 39 years, it had maintained a high degree of mystery, and has become an exclusive feature in a tourist hotel of the world today."

I thought "this is the funniest photo I've ever seen" probably ~25x while looking at it & somewhat regularly the rest of the day/night. I felt earnestly amazed, at times, while looking at it in person. The next 3 photos are angled close-ups of this photo.

(Also in this hotel, which I recommend visiting: an exhibit of cabbages that, except size, all looked the same and were handmade, I think, out of salt, for the purpose of a competition; a refrigerator-size computer-thing with the largest "touch screen" I can remember ever seeing; the buffet, which had funny translations like "Western Cold Selection" and a coffee machine from, I think, a company called "Greatness.")

Previously - Facedown Generation

Follow Tao on Twitter @tao_lin

The nights become so bitterly cold that I’ve taken shelter in a portakabin staffed by UNHCR doctors. We sit, sipping tea, fighting our tiredness, waiting. It’s nearly 1 AM and there's still no sign of any refugees arriving. Restless, I go outside to join my colleagues, who are sharing a cigarette in the starless night. Suddenly we are silent. In the distance we can hear buses and then out of that cold dark night they start to arrive. The first to appear is a young girl, maybe five years old, dressed in a cream coat walking with a purpose beyond her years, followed by two young mothers clasping their children, wrapped tightly in blankets to protect them from the cold. They make their way into the large military-style reception tent where they will be processed, fed, given medical attention, and finally allocated their own plot within Zaatari Camp.

I watch as more and more arrive—tens, hundreds and, by dawn, nearly 2,000. There's man wearing a suit, holding his kid’s hand; an elderly couple struggling to carry their meagre possessions; a pregnant woman in tears; a young man carried across the rough ground in his wheelchair. Each face seems haunted and etched with exhaustion, uncertainty, and fear. The scenes are reminiscent of so many earlier wars, faded black and white images of civilians uprooted and forced to flee with only what they carry. But this is not some terrible past, this is happening now and the war grows more violent and brutal each day.

The numbers are almost beyond comprehension. More than 70,000 people killed, over four million displaced, and more than one million refugees registered by the UNHCR. In Jordan alone, there are 340,000 refugees, many in the tented Zaatari. This number is expected to rise to over one million by the end of the year.

Those with chronic or war-related disabilities face the greatest challenges. Often fearful of receiving treatment in government hospitals, they have little option but to flee Syria. While charities, such as Handicap International, are able to provide physiotherapy and some support, the realities of living in a refugee camp with a disability are hard to overcome. Many choose to leave the camp and to privately rent homes in the area. However, rents have nearly trebled, funds are limited and many properties are unsuitable.

Over the following days I meet and photograph some of the refugees, listening to their stories. Men, women and children who are the individuals behind the numbers, everyday people who have lost everything, all control of their lives, who now face a bleak future as refugees. No home, food insecurity, unable to work, unable to attend school, with limited medical care and often with extended families to support. For this to be their only option, one can’t help but think what hell they must have left behind.

This conflict is unbearably complex, with answers hard to come by and rightly debated. Yet while we ponder the rights and wrongs of arming the Free Syrian Army, talk of the red line that will be crossed with the use of chemical weapons, and discuss the ramifications of intervention, it seems we are missing the one simple truth. Each day, innocent civilians are being killed, maimed, and forced into a refugee’s life. We should prioritize their protection and support without debate.

Zaatari Camp, Jordan. 30th March, 2013.

Follow Giles on Twitter @gilesduley

Check out some more of his work by clicking here

And learn a little more about him by reading this:

I Spoke to the Photographer Who Got Blown Up in Afghanistan and then Went Back

And read more stuff from VICE on Syria:

The VICE Guide to Syria 

Gunrunning with the Free Syrian Army

Road to Ruin

Hip-hop is having a renaissance right now in the city of New York, where it seems like every other day a new MC rises up out of the five boroughs with an even more unique style and approach to the music than what we thought was possible before. Motley crews like the A$AP Mob, the Beast Coast, and World's Fair have given us a reason to love rhymes again. We've written a lot about this stuff, but sometimes words don't do it justice. So, we've linked up with scene insider Verena Stefanie Grotto to document the new New York movement as it happens in real time, with intimate shots of rappers, scenesters, artists, and fashion fiends.

This week Verena caught up with everyone from Brooke Candy, Black Dave, Chase 'n' Cashe, and Bodega Bams to super model Omahyra Mota, and then she went shopping for Purina dog food. Check back every week or so for more photos.

Photographer Verena Stefanie was born and bred in Bassano del Grappa, Italy. The small town is not known for hip-hop, but they do make a very tasty grape-based pomace brandy there called grappa. Stefanie left Bassano del Grappa at the age of 17 to go and live the wild skateboarding life in Barcelona, Spain, where she worked as the Fashion Coordinator for VICE Spain. Tired of guiding photographers to catch the best shots, she eventually grabbed the camera herself and is now devoted to documenting artists, rappers, style-heads, and more. She recently directed a renowned documentary about the Grime scene in UK and has had photo features in GQ, Cosmopolitan, VICE, and many more. Check out her website and follow her on Twitter and Instagram @VerenaStefanie.

Previously - Flatbush Zombies, Gangsta Boo, Chippy Nonstop, and World's Fair

"I might be caucasian and American, but since 2006, I've been an intermittent member of the ever-growing Asian middle class. I've been teaching English to that generation of Asians who haven't been faced with the same kind of political turmoil as their parents' generation. And while that might sound relatively banal, it just isn't. As a subject, the middle class is diverse, awesome, and visually intriguing. They have money for neon, karaoke dance stages at their birthday parties. They can airbrush fantasy scenes on to their car hoods. They can pimp their scooters and afford dazzling pedicures.

"Their children can be crazed and invigorated by video games, and at the same time sedated and fatted by enormous piles of schoolwork and processed junk food. They can face existential identity crises in their 20s. Their families can throw big, sprawling block parties on the street. Some events like these could yield a picture, or not. I want to make strange and beautiful pictures of my community, and I want them to be at once over the top and quintessential."

See more work by Hannah here and check out the blog she keeps with her husband here.

 

More great photos:

Animals Keep Photobombing Henry Gorse

Delaney Allen Hates Shooting People

Give Shane Deegan a Job

While spending time with Taylor I shot a video, along with Clayton and Jade Katzenellenbogen, about how he came to New York, as well as his recent battle with his landlord, noted LES prick Ben Shaoul. We hope to release the video sometime within the next few weeks. In the meantime, here are some of Clayton Patterson's memories and thoughts on Taylor.

- Taji Ameen

Photo by Clayton Patterson

Taylor was a neighbor and a good friend of mine. I live at 161 Essex; he was one block over, at 163 Ludlow. For decades our slice of the Lower East Side was a no man’s land. Above Houston was the cool East Village; below Delancey was the safe and clean, police-protected Grand Street co-op area. Our block, like so many of the surrounding blocks, had 24/7 drug dealing going on. You had to be a serious junkie to tread around our neck of the woods.

But we were also a somewhat close-knit community. A real neighborhood, filled with characters, families, outlaws, and a sprinkling of artists. On the street level, the drug dealers in and around Taylor’s building looked out for him. That was one of the reasons he could come home drunk at 4 AM, or go out in the early morning hours to feed stray cats. We would often meet at our local bodega, and one thing he always purchased was cat food. He put out meals for the street cats at a number of locations.

In 1986, Ari Roussimoff and I started the Tattoo Society of New York (TSNY). Ari is an artist and filmmaker. Ari was working on a black-and-white feature film called Shadows In the City, and I was serving as the art director. A partial list of the cast of characters are TSNY members Pulsating Paula, Tattoo Al, J. C. Fly, David Hayes, Elsa Rensaa; then sword-swallower Diane Falk; filmmakers Jack Smith, Emile deAntonio, Nick Zedd; writer Ratso Sloman; performance artists Annie Sprinkle, Kembra Pfahler; strongman the Mighty Stephan; artist Joe Coleman; actress Valerie Caris; Mystic Warriors MC members; and, of course, Taylor Mead. The film was finished in late 1991.

By the early 1990s all kinds of artists were exploring the use of the handheld video camera. MNN, the local cable channel, became one of the main venues for creative people to get their work out to the public. Taylor was no exception, and he appeared on numerous cable shows as an actor, performer, poet, and artist, as well as an interview subject. To bring a little attention to the work these artists were doing, I created the Nelson Awards along with Jeremiah Newton and Screaming Rachel. Named after Nelson Sullivan, the artist who turned me onto the merits and simplicity of the handheld video camera, the event was held on the main stage of the Limelight nightclub. Taylor Mead was one of the Nelson Award recipients.

I have included Taylor's paintings in a number of art shows at the Clayton Gallery. One show in particular drew much attention. Curated by Jamie Rasin, Anne Loretto, and myself, The 80s 326 Years Of Hip, featured four octogenarian artists: Taylor Mead, Mary Beach, Boris Lurie, and Herbert Huncke.

In 2005, I included an article on Taylor in the book Captured by Seven Story Press.

He will be greatly missed.

Previously - Clayton Patterson's Music Week

You should visit—just take care not to catch anything.

See more of Nick's work here and follow him on Twitter, too: @NickDaviephoto

Does your town or city qualify for paradise status? Feel free to send us your pitches. We won't bite.

Other recent Paradises:

Phoenix / Leicester / Tbilisi / Los Angeles / Berlin / Rotterdam / Reykjavik / Wootton Bassett / Brighton /Bristol

Family photographs are usually so vernacular and boring. How did you keep it so interesting? Is your family just kind of nuts?
They're nuts. But in all fairness, if someone else were to have photographed us, there probably would have been a completely different tone. Maybe it's just how I see the world. 

How did you end up taking that photograph of Imogen Cunningham?
I was at the San Francisco Art Institute and there was a class field trip to Imogen's house early one day. Being a not-so-together 20-something, I showed up around four in the afternoon, but Imogene was cool. She said I might as well come in. I had some Jang prints with me, and she said she'd like to take a portrait of my aunt Lucy. That's how we ended up in her living room for tea.

What did photographing your family reveal to you about them in particular?
I don't think that way. Maybe if I was a writer, it would be clearer. But these are photographs, and isn't it fair to just say, "Look at the pictures?"

Very fair. Many of the photographs seem in line with street photography, in that they are taken at the perfect or "decisive" moment of the action. It seems like you just took the ethos and practices of a street photographer, but just never left the house. The fact that you didn't need to is a testament to your skill. Would you agree? How did those photographers and ideas influence your work?
There are some classic sayings like "Happiness is in your own backyard" or "It was right under my nose the whole time." If I were to have any skill—and thank you for the compliment—it might be being able to see what often becomes invisible to us after years and years of taking people and objects for granted.

What made you show the work now, so many years later?
Well, besides just wanting to have a kick-ass time in my 60s, I think it's time that the work be out there.

For more of Michael's work, check out his website.

Wanna see more cool pictures? Check out these-

Henry Hargreave's Photos of What Famous Muscians Eat Backstage

Californians are Dying to Go to Colma

Daytona Beach, 1999

This week's photos are named after a term* in Taiwan, which Tao's mom says she first heard on TV, for people who seem unable to stop looking at their phones while in public.

All photos and captions by Tao Lin.

*literal translation from Mandarin is something like "head-lowered ['group' or 'troupe']."

Taipei will be released on June 4 from Vintage and is available for pre-order now. To read an early excerpt from the novel that we published in 2011 titled "Relationship Story," click here.

This woman is staring at her Samsung Galaxy thinking, "what am I trying to look at? what is my finger wanting to push?" The screen is black. 

The teenager with white shoes is trying to convince himself that no one can see what he's looking at and that, even if they could, he shouldn't feel embarrassed, or whatever, because he's only, at the moment, looking at his Gmail account. The man in the red-striped shirt is trying to cancel his Boingo account for what must be, he thinks, the 20th time, or something insane like that, in probably not even a full year.

This man is rereading an article titled "CNET Asia's Top 10 phones." His LG Optimus G is ranked number seven. He doesn't know how he feels about this. Being worse than six phones, on a list of ten phones, seems bad, but being listed at all—how many phones are there? hundreds? thousands?—seems good.

This man, not wanting to appear like he's ignoring his son to look at his iPad, is pretending to photograph them, with Taipei 101 in the background, as he quickly checks if his tweet from a few minutes ago, tweeted while similarly kneeled in a pretense of photography, has been favorited or retweeted—or replied to, or anything—yet.

Eighteen minutes ago this woman decelerated and parked on the side of the road and turned off her vehicle and began looking at the internet. She did this for no reason except that "stop what you're doing to look at the internet" was an option in her life.

This person has been trying for almost half an hour to edit "I am desperate for a reason to live" into a tweet that won't make people worried. She hates her life. 

This woman image-searched "asian sylvestor stallone" and is about to enlarge an image macro of the Rock that says "IF I CAN RAISE MY EYEBROW LIKE THIS / IMAGINE WHAT ELSE I CAN RAISE ;)."

This woman is weakly trying to discern if it's 2012 or 2013.

This man is googling "weirdest whale or dolphin." He has zero interest in whales, dolphins, or the "weirdness" of either. He hates his life.

This woman is frustratedly reading a semi-incoherent, rambling, off-topic post on a nonofficial message board after frantically googling how to unlink a Twitter account from a Facebook account after accidentally linking her private Twitter account, featuring mostly nonhumorously bleak observations about her life, to "The Official Taiwanese Facebook Presence of The Dalai Lama." (The Dalai Lama's people hired her for the position of "social media manager" a week ago because she lied on her resume about having worked for both Twitter and Facebook.) Seated opposite her and asleep, listening to Norah Jones' 2nd album, is her father, who she sees once a month.

Mother and son—seen here resting on a bench near the Jiantan MRT station—are, unbeknownst to each other, both "zoned out" "big time." Neither knows what they're looking at or thinking about and only the son is aware, in a vague way, of being somewhere.

This child is looking at photos of Mars. 

These siblings, smartphone prodigies, are idly hacking into Netflix's databases, slightly altering the algorithms relevant to the category "Understated Dramas" so that Rain Man will always be recommended.

This child feels a strong attraction to a still, from Chunking Express, of Faye Wong in an airport kneeled on a moving walkway looking steeply up at something out-of-view. He's afraid his friends will tease him if they see him looking at it, so he is looking at it while in motion, when the image will appear blurry to anyone not himself.

The teenagers on the sofa have posted "any parties" on their respective Facebook walls and are currently waiting for responses.

Previously - Taipei Carbs

Follow Tao on Twitter @tao_lin

Hip-hop is having a renaissance right now in the city of New York, where it seems like every other day a new MC rises up out of the five boroughs with an even more unique style and approach to the music than what we thought was possible before. Motley crews like the A$AP Mob, the Beast Coast, and World's Fair have given us a reason to love rhymes again. We've written a lot about this stuff, but sometimes words don't do it justice. So, we've linked up with scene insider Verena Stefanie Grotto to document the new New York movement as it happens in real time, with intimate shots of rappers, scenesters, artists, and fashion fiends.

This week Verena caught up with Flatbush Zombies, Gangsta Boo, Chippy Nonstop, World's Fair, and two dogs in a jogging stroller. Check back every week or so for more photos. Many of these photos were taken at the Lit Lounge in the East Village, during a party thrown by our very own comic king, Nick Gazin. 

Photographer Verena Stefanie was born and bred in Bassano del Grappa, Italy. The small town is not known for hip-hop, but they do make a very tasty grape-based pomace brandy there called grappa. Stefanie left Bassano del Grappa at the age of 17 to go and live the wild skateboarding life in Barcelona, Spain, where she worked as the Fashion Coordinator for VICE Spain. Tired of guiding photographers to catch the best shots, she eventually grabbed the camera herself and is now devoted to documenting artists, rappers, style-heads, and more. She recently directed a renowned documentary about the Grime scene in UK and has had photo features in GQ, Cosmopolitan, VICE, and many more. Check out her website and follow her on Twitter and Instagram @VerenaStefanie.

Previously - NY State of Mind #2

More hip-hop photos:

NY State of Mind #1

A$AP PLAYLI$T MANIFE$TED

Finally, the Hip Hop Kids Are Taking Acid 

The Cora, or Naayari, as they call themselves, were the last indigenous ethnic group in Mexico to be conquered by the Spanish—they held out until 1722. Many of them still live in isolated communities along the Sierra del Nayar mountain range, remote settlements that are only reachable by plane and lack basic services like running water and electricity. Not much has changed since precolonial times. The Cora adhere to their own idiosyncratic blend of Catholicism and animism, which manifests in their unique way of celebrating Easter.

I shot these portraits during the Judea Cora (their version of Catholicism’s Holy Week), in San Juan Bautista, a small town in the state of Nayarit. The celebration’s rituals involve physical acts of contrition, similar to Lent, but the Cora also celebrate in all-day ceremonies meant to represent a cosmic battle with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, while simultaneously depicting the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

It’s pretty confusing, but as I understand it, the significant rituals begin on the night of Ash Wednesday, when participants covered in body paint made from burnt, ground-up corn—who are meant to represent Jews and Romans—perform a dance that signifies the “rise of evil.” On Thursday morning, these Cora fast while wandering through town in a ritual that evokes the Romans’ search for Christ. Later that afternoon, another set of dancers, this time representing Christ’s apostles, paint themselves white. Then the two factions meet in the center of the village for a ceremony—the “Jews” eat while the “apostles” dance until nightfall, after which they host a separate meal before returning home. The Jews then dance from dusk until around midnight, when they go out in search of corn to “steal.” (In reality, a farmer donates the corn in exchange for a blessing of his harvest.) This year, the Jews left the town center at 1 AM and returned with sacks full of corn around 6 AM. Other biblical characters like the Pharisees and figures from the Coras’ own myths round out the cast.

I was awed by the dedication and attention to detail shown by the Cora who paint their bodies and elaborately decorate their sabers and crowns. Each design is different, and all the participants, even the youngest dancers, create their own. 

All of this, I was told, represents a battle in the spirit kingdom that is resolved when a figure representing both Jesus and the sun resurrects itself and punishes the Jews, who repent for their sins. I found the detailed explanations of the rituals I received from the Cora difficult to comprehend because the ones most familiar with the story are adults who only speak the Cora language. In the end, though, I think the portraits speak for themselves. 

Click through to the next page.

Check out more photos:

Horsing Around at the Gypsy Mecca

Ian Berry Takes Jaw-Dropping Photos of Massacres and Floods

Jonathan Hobin Re-Creates the World's Most Infamous Tragedies with Children

Previously:

Miami Is a Paradise

Bangkok Is a Paradise

Moscow Is a Paradise

I have always been attracted to the romance of nomadism and therefore wanted to experience a culture that causes so much controversy just by living alongside our own. With the Gypsy council as my base, I slept in a tent and heard young boys rapping, Traveller women heatedly discussing their gender's place in their community, and fortune tellers selling the future for £20. The rest, I photographed. 

To see more of Diana's work, click here.

Magnum is probably the most famous photo agency in the world. Even if you haven't heard of it, chances are you're familiar with its images, be they Robert Capa's coverage of the Spanish Civil War or Martin Parr's very British holiday-scapes. Unlike most agencies, Magnum's members are selected by the other photographers on the agency, so becoming a member is a pretty grueling process. As part of an ongoing partnership with Magnum, we will be profiling some of their photographers over the coming weeks.

In 1962, Ian Berry was invited to join Magnum by Henri Cartier-Bresson—which, in photographic terms, is about as close to canonization as you can get. His invitation followed his work in South Africa, where he was the only photographer to witness the massacre at Sharpeville, one of the more brutal events in late-apartheid history. His photos were retrospectively used in court to prove that the protest had been peaceful. He has covered conflicts in Czechoslovakia, Israel, Ireland, and Vietnam.

VICE: I understand you’ve been with Magnum for longer than 50 years now. Is that correct?
Ian Berry: Yes. I’m horrified to admit it, but yes. That says something about my inability to let go, I think. I think of quitting every year and never get around to doing it.

You got your start in South Africa. How did you end up there?
Well, as a young Brit, I wanted to travel. And in those days you could get assisted passages to what was formerly, and in those times still, the Commonwealth. So, you could go to Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and South Africa. South Africa sounded the most exciting. You know, I thought I’d be seeing lions on the streets of Johannesburg and so on.

Ha.
As it happened, my family knew a photographer there who had just come back from the States assisting Ansel Adams. And he was prepared to stand as a guarantor for me for a year. I didn’t actually need a visa but you had to have someone guarantee you. So I legged it out to South Africa, and that was it really. No regrets, either—it was a very exciting time to be there.

You had no real formal training in photography beyond that, did you?
College for photography really didn’t exist at that time. The best thing you could do was become somebody's apprentice, and that's what I did. I mean, he was shooting on a four by five, and everything was lit, and so on. So it was great training, even though I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do.

SOUTH AFRICA. Supporters climb to every vantage point whilst awaiting the arrival of Nelson MANDELA in a Natal township. 1994.

The massacre of Sharpeville seemed to be a major turning point for you. Can you quickly tell us your story of it?
After I left this guy, I went to the work for the Sunday Times Group in Johannesburg. I had been there for a little while, and I’d heard that a famous British editor of a very famous London-based magazine called Picture Post was coming out to edit an African magazine called Drum. I felt there was something to be learned from this guy, so I applied and got a job with them.

And then, there was a national strike in South Africa—and most photographers and journalists went out to the potential hot spots, in case anything happened. I got a call about a guy having been shot in this township, called Sharpeville. When I got there everyone had turned up—a lot of international photographers, too. They were hanging outside the gates when a load of armored cars rolled up and headed in to the township. At that time, as a white, you had to have a permit to be in an African township.

We all leapt into our cars and followed in. A hundred yards in, the convoy stops and the officer in charge comes back and says, “You better get the hell out of here, or you’ll be arrested.” So, most of the cars left. Three cars stayed, including the one I was in, and we followed them for another hot mile until the guy got out again and said, “You better leave now, this is your last warning!” And the other two cars left.

We followed on as they drove into this police station that was in a sort of compound, surrounded by wire netting. I chatted to some of the police; I got up to the fence and they all looked pretty quiet to me. The crowd didn’t seem too aggressive, either. I thought nothing was going to happen so I walked back to the car and as soon as I got there, the police opened fire. Bodies started to fall around all over the place. It was all over very quickly. I just had a couple of Leicas in those days with a wide-angle and a normal lens. And I simply shot people running towards me. When I realized people were being killed around me I sort of got thrown in the grass.

SOUTH AFRICA. Zululand. Zulus on their way to celebrate a wedding. 1985.

When the firing stopped, I got up and it was just me and one more person standing. And bear in mind that the South African police hated the press with a passion. I leapt into the car and we took off. And that was really it. The pictures were crap, just pictures of people running towards me, but it was an event that sort of went around the world. And got me in Magnum; the editor of the magazine I worked for, Tom Hopkinson, wrote to Magnum on my behalf.

Wow. And those photographs were used as evidence to exonerate certain people, correct?
Yes. What happened was people charged the crowd. And they said that they had only fired once and that the crowd was being aggressive. Which wasn't true. In fact, I had a photograph of them reloading automatic weapons. And of course most people were shot in the back. They kept on firing at people as they ran away. I was the only white witness, and in those days, as a white your word counted more than any African's. So I gave the evidence, and fortunately the people who had been charged with the fray, the wounded, were released and let off. So even though the pictures weren’t great, they served a humanitarian purpose.

And because of that, Magnum called, and the rest is history.
Well, almost. First, this guy who was starting a new agency in Paris and who had been the bureau chief of Magnum invited me to join. I was with them for a year. Then Magnum asked me to join them and of course I was flattered. And I joined.

What was it like to work with Cartier-Bresson?
It was great, actually—a great education for me. He was very friendly, and he let me look at the contact books. Mark Riboud, who was another famous French photographer who was with Magnum at the time, let me, too. You can learn a lot by looking at other photographers’ contact sheets, about how they approach things and how they think. It was a pretty valuable experience.

SOUTH KOREA. Boryeong. Daecheon Beach. 11th annual Mud Festival.

What kind of stuff are you working on now?
I’ve been working on a thing about water around the world. It’s been going on for too long because I’m sort of in need of a particular situation. I think when New Orleans happened I had just fallen off my motorcycle and broke my leg so I missed out on that. When the tsunami happened, I had done something similar and missed out on that. So, I have all the basics to finish it off but I need some natural disaster. I sailed all up and down the Yangtze, the Mekong, the Nile, the Mississippi—all of it. You know, the trouble with a project like that is you find yourself shooting the same stuff. And you need something to punch it up, to carry it. But it keeps me out of mischief.

It seems like if the same problems are happening everywhere, this work might be a way to show that this is a problem that requires more attention. Have your opinions or politics been shaped at all by the work you've done?
No. I know the popular thing these days is to go to an event, situation, whatever with preconceived ideas whereas I still have this old-fashioned approach of going somewhere with an open mind. I think it was on my last trip to South Africa, when I was asked by a French magazine to do something on the farmers living just below Zimbabwe.

Now, I have no love for the Afrikaner; when I was working in South Africa I was always in more danger from the police than the Africans. And of course, the Afrikaners hate the British with a passion. But I went along to shoot this story and indeed what’s happening is a lot of the farmers are either being dispossessed or killed. And no matter how you feel about them you also feel sorry for them to a degree. I went to one farm that belonged to an old woman. Her grandfather had been buried there and she'd just been dispossessed with no sort of recourse. So, I still think you have to be fairly dispassionate wherever you go and whatever you do.

 ETHIOPIA. Villagers walk two miles to the only source of water to fill gourds, wash clothes or bathe. 1987

That’s interesting. Has working in so many places around the world taught you anything about world culture? Are human beings completely different from each other or are there similar threads that tie us all together?
We are very different, there’s no question about it. Just think of Korea today: I worked on a book on South Korea about three years ago. The people were great, friendly and pleasant. It makes you wonder how different the people north of the border can be. I had a German wife when the Berlin Wall first opened, and she would not go into the eastern zone. She seemed to think that they were some kind of wild animals. Obviously, I went to the East and the people were no different from those in the West, albeit a little poorer. 

To me, that's what photography is all about. The camera is such a great tool for exposing cultures as well as opening them up slightly to one another. That sounds a bit pompous but there is not much reason to become a photographer if you aren't going to try to do a little good with it.

As I look at your photographs, they strike me as being in line with the idea of the decisive moment. What do you think about digital photography and the snapping of thousands of photos at once? Is that something you embrace or is it something you reject?
No, I shoot digital and I think technically it’s good. When you’re on a two or three week shoot, to be able to go back to where you’re staying and look at what you shot and know what you don’t have—I think that's great. It’s not that good when you’re on a corporate shoot. In the old days you could walk around a place for ten hours and then go back and have a good meal, relax, do anything. Now you go back and have to download a load of junk and send it off the same day. It’s a mixed blessing. But I still think you have a better chance picking that moment with digital.

GERMANY. Berlin. Christophe SORCI playing jazz in East Berlin piano bar. 2000.

Any tips for the younger generation?
If I had any tips, I’d tip myself off. It’ll be interesting to see how Newsweek works out, because at the moment nobody is really making any money in still photography. I give these workshops, and I get asked that exact question. I fear that I can’t really answer it. I suppose if I were to be absolutely callous, I would say take up a video camera instead of a still camera. But it’s a different world. I was just asked to shoot a project in Mozambique, and at the last minute they suddenly said they wanted video, as well. Up until now, I’d avoided doing that.

At the end of the day, the people with real dedication and a good eye will make it. Until we do start to make money out of the web, all you can say to those people is to hang in there. But I look at the photography schools in this country, the number of people who are being churned out as photographers and I doubt 1 percent is going to make it in photography. They might make a living working for the police or doing stuff for the museum, weddings, or God knows. Not many will make a living out of photojournalism, I think. I’d like to be wrong.

Thank you, Ian. It was a pleasure speaking with you.
And to you, Christian.

Click through to see more photography by Ian Berry.

CHINA. Gansu Province. Xiahe. Novice Tibetan monks on their way to prayer. 1996.

BANGLADESH. Khulna. Jessore. Jhikargachha village. A woman whose arms and sides show the telltale black marks of arsenic poisoning has only this pump for fresh water. It is painted red to indicate the water is contaminated with arsenic. 2000.

England. London. Trafalgar Square. A kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve. 1964

South Africa. Gauteng. Johannesburg. Fordsburg. Affection between two people in a multi-racial cafe. 1961

SOUTH AFRICA. Natal. Durban. Members of a religious group participating in a total immersion baptism ceremony in the Indian Ocean. 1984.

Africa. South Africa. A young black girl, scarcely more than a child herself, looks after a baby girl for a white family. 1968

SOUTH AFRICA. Paarl. Whites enjoy a wine tasting in the Cape whilst coloured workers bring on fresh supplies. 1981.

COSTA RICA. Atlantic Coast. Limon Camp. Nicaraguan refugees while away the time playing guitar, with only mattresses to sit and sleep on.

SOUTH AFRICA. Ventersdorp. Police and AWB protesters clash for the first time. 1991.

Previously - Thomas Dworzak Has Photos of Sad Marines and Taliban Poseurs

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Steve McCurry Goes to Horrific Places and Returns With Incredible Photos

The Way Christopher Anderson Sees the World Is Amazing

Posh Snow, by Martin Parr

Bruce Gilden Does Street Photography Right

Here's how Henry explained his animal fixation:

"I've noticed there are loads of animals in my pictures, but I never really understood it. I never set out to photograph them, it just happens. I sort of see past them being animals; they are metaphors, which I like to use to play on the fact that people are almost always much more empathetic towards animals than themselves. 

"Or, I guess, in my world, it's the closest I will ever get to being a Pokemon trainer."

See more of Henry's work here.

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Henry Hargreaves's Photos of What Famous Musicians Eat Backstage

I was inspired to create this series after reviewing a few riders from some of the biggest acts in the world, all of which were ridiculous. But what I found most interesting about them is that they offered a glimpse into their larger-than-life personalities. 

I initially thought I would try and shoot all of the items listed on the catering riders but quickly realized that this would become an exercise in wasting money. So I decided to focus on the quirkiest requests and shoot them in a Flemish Baroque still-life style because I felt that there was a direct connection between the themes in these types of paintings and the riders: the idea of time passing and the ultimate mortality of a musician’s career as the limelight inevitably fades—they only have a short time in which they are able to make these demands and have them fulfilled.

Photography and Direction: Henry Hargreaves

Prop Styling: Caitlin Levin

Al Green

Twenty-four long-stem (dethorned) red roses.

Axl Rose

Fresh Wonder Bread (white), Dom Perignon

Beyoncé

Juicy baked chicken, heavily seasoned: garlic, sea salt, black pepper, and cayenne pepper. Beyoncé can only have Pepsi products.

Billy Idol

One tub I can’t believe it’s not Butter!, Pepperidge Farms Soft Baked Nantucket Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Britney Spears

Fish and chips, McDonald’s cheeseburgers without the buns, 100 prunes and figs, a framed photo of Princess Diana.

Busta Rhymes

Twenty-four pieces of fried chicken, Rough Rider condoms, Guinness.

Foo Fighters

Big-ass kielbasas that make men feel self-conscious.

Frank Sinatra

One bottle each: Absolute, Jack Daniel’s, Chivas Regal, Courvoisier, Beefeater Gin, white wine, red wine. Twenty-four chilled jumbo shrimp, Life Savers, cough drops. 

Lady Gaga

Small plate of cheese (nonsmelly, nonsweaty), on ice.

Mariah Carey  

Cristal Champagne, bendy straws.

Marilyn Manson

Gummi bears.

New Kids on the Block

Häagen-Dazs ice cream, Oreo cookies.

Nine Inch Nails

Two boxes of corn starch.

Prince

Coffee and tea setup, including honey, lemon, sugar, cream, fresh ginger root. Physician will be used to administer a B-12 injection.

Rihanna

Hard-boiled eggs, turkey bacon, turkey sausage, at any time throughout the day. Please be prepared!

Van Halen 

Herring in sour cream, large tube of KY jelly, M&M's (Warning: absolutely no brown ones).

Previously: Henry Hargreaves Photographs Death Row's Final Meals

I seem to rush, whenever I see this photo, to think Huffington Post quickly, like I'm answering a question before someone else does

Al Gore should abruptly stumble cross-stage during a TED talk, falling to his knees, when his vision is replaced with this photo, which he's never seen, for 2.5 seconds

my dad eating an "oil stick" (literal translation from Mandarin) 

if you move your face within ~4 inches of the screen & stare at the man on the right side of this photo he will appear to move, in place, a little

a bread tree in full bloom

no one in this photo remembers why or how—or when—they stopped selling bouncy balls & other small, colorful toys & started selling metastasized stumps of brown carbs

these gelatinous carbs sometimes fly toward people's faces without warning or explanation

by stocking only "uneatable carbs," as he calls them, this man believes the media will profile him

mankind—represented here by a depressed, vision-impaired hunchback—is mere spectator, via peripheral vision, if at all, in this Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of Taipei's shiniest, crispiest, most skillfully butter-infused carbs

high-calorie sleeping aids

photorealistic painting by Al Gore 

plastic-wrapped, durable-seeming, pretty heavy mound of simple carbohydrates in my parent's refrigerator

Previously - Taipei Fashion

Follow Tao on Twitter @tao_lin

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A Beginner's Guide to Jason Nocito

When I got off the Bay Area Rapid Transit in Colma for the first time, it was pitch black out. My friend Tom and I wanted to kick off our time in the necropolis by shooting photos of the sunrise. I'd read stories about the town and its abundance of gravestones and cemeteries. What I didn't realize was that there are gravestones everywhere, including the medians of the streets and out in front shopping strip malls. What we were greeted with when we got off the train was just about as quirky and bizarre as we anticipated. Smiles were the norm. People were super friendly and really happy to talk about their cemeteries, which they referred to as their city's parks. They referred to the dead buried in Colma as their neighbors, and wouldn't stop joking about how quiet and pleasant they are. 

It's a weird combination of the suburban American dream and the common American horror story, with a heavy dose of capitalism thrown in the mix. Founded in 1924 as the largest necropolis in the country, the town's entire socio-economic and cultural heartbeat lies in burying and maintaining dead bodies. Turns out this isn't a bad living, considering people don't and won't ever stop dying. There is no shortage of business for the cemetery owners and monument builders. In 2010, the population of Colma was marked at just shy of 1,800 people. With nearly two million bodies buried in two square miles, the dead outnumber the living 1,000 to one. I came to find out during my time there that despite this alarming ratio, the people who basically live in a giant cemetery are really happy, and life in Colma is pretty normal. 

Eric Arthur Fernandez is a photographer living and working in Brooklyn, NY. More of his work can be seen here. Also, check out his Tumblr and Twitter. 

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Daytona Beach, 1999

People Skateboard in St. Petersburg, Too

Henry Hargreaves Photographs Death Row's Final Meals

If you're in Canada this week, In the Playroom is coming to Toronto for an exhibition at the Gladstone. I gave Jonathan a call at his home in Ottawa to talk about the criticism he’s received, the way kids absorb the news, how his entire series is a criticism of Western media, and whether or not we’re all giant kids playing adults. Oh, and he was nice enough to give us some photos that have not yet been shown anywhere online. So take a look for yourself.

VICE: What kind of feedback have you been getting from the kids in these photos?
Jonathan Hobin: For the most part they just have a lot of fun. They are given permission to do what they are often scolded for doing—acting as crazy as they want. The funny thing is, kids play games where they kill each other all the time. Whenever a kid plays with a water pistol they’re pretending to kill someone. It’s something we see constantly. I’m directly referencing where kids might be learning to do those things and that makes people very uncomfortable.

What do the parents think, generally?
I have never photographed a kid without having a clear dialogue with the parents about what the intention is and what I expect the images to be. Some people seem to think that these parents are making money off this in some way, or that they’re fame-seekers. I have yet to really encounter a stage mom. I don’t know if that’s an American anomaly... I’m not sure. I feel like maybe that’s a stereotype and those things aren’t necessarily a factor in Canada. Most of these parents, they’re well educated, they get the arguments, and they think the photos portray a valid point that they want to participate in.

There was one circumstance with the JonBenet Ramsey photograph where the girl is, essentially, imitating a child murder victim after a sexual attack. We were very cautious in moving forward with that one. The girl was unfazed, but the mother was clearly concerned and clearly cautious about moving forward. But I think any healthy parent would be very cautious with something like that.

Do the kids understand the scenes they’re portraying?
Sometimes the kids just get it. Like the 9/11 picture. Even though they are three or four years old, they saw the twin towers and said, “I’ll hold the airplane, this is where the plane hit the building.” The mother was stunned. These symbols have worked their way into our subconscious. They are so ingrained in our culture, and they’re instantly recognizable. On the other hand, one of the new images is about acid attacks. With those kids, you’d say, “You’re fighting. To hurt that person you pour something that will sting on them.” You talk to them in terms they’re going to understand. And they understand it’s one person hurting another person—that’s the big picture. To start talking about specifics, like bringing in culture, religion... things like that, I think that’s just too big for them to handle. They get the broad strokes. I’m sure it makes for some very interesting conversations on the way home from the photo shoot.

Do you think that the photos are shocking?
No, I don’t. I’ve been shocked at how strongly people have reacted to it. I’ve had some interesting responses, like I’ve had people send me gifts, I’ve had people write hate mail to me or send death threats. I’m pretty close to it and so it’s hard for me to judge. I’m just doing what I’m doing.

It seems to me that the photos are viewed through an American news media lens. You’re Canadian—the closest any of the images come to a Canadian story is the seal clubbing. Did you choose to focus mostly on American media content?
It’s interesting that you say “American lens,” but I think you could also say that it’s a Canadian commentary on the American media being forcefed to us. American media in particular is creating sensationalized imagery in news stories. The way that they give us the news almost plays out like a movie trailer, as if the news story is fiction. So they take something like the Natalee Holloway story and they’re putting it together and creating the narrative so it has these elements where you have the villain, the victim, and maybe an exotic location. It’s like they’re looking at the news story, checking all the boxes that could easily be a made-for-TV movie, and they’re presenting those stories back to us. There is very much a blurry line about what is entertainment and what is news. I think it’s more a commentary on that.

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Jonathan Hobin is represented by Patrick Mikhail Gallery. In the Playroom will be featured at the Gladstone Hotel in Toronto from May 2 - 31.

Enjoy!

Check our some more of Vika's work here and here.

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Henry Hargreaves Photographs Death Row's Final Meals

Thomas Dworzak Takes Photos of Sad Marines and Taliban Poseurs

Henry Hargreaves is no TV chef. Rather than trying to save the country one school dinner at a time or “throw together a crostini,” he’s made a name for himself making and photographing such gastronomical fancies as edible rainbows and deep fried iPads. But it's his No Seconds project that he's become best known for, in which he recreated the last meals of various serial killers on death row and presented them in a chilling photo series.

Looking through the set gives you a tangible, almost sensory window into the minds of condemned men. And in a world where we’re overwhelmed with hundreds of filtered pictures of food every day, it’s pretty amazing to find a photo of mint chocolate ice cream that actually makes you think. I caught up with Henry to discuss his photos.

VICE: Hey Henry. So what made you start photographing serial killer’s last meals?
Henry Hargreaves: I’m really interested in people’s choices with food. It’s one of those things that everyone does several times a day, but you never really see it out of context or think about what it says about someone. I was reading about a campaign to abolish the last meal in Texas, so I went online and researched it. And as I was reading through these records, I felt that I could identify with these people for a brief moment just from what they ordered.

Do you think the meals offer a window into the psyche of the condemned?
I think in general—yes, definitely. The thing that kind of struck me with these last meals was how many of them were these big, deep fried meals, which we like to call comfort food. Here were these people in their last moments and all they really want was a little bit of comfort.

Is the project a statement about the death penalty?
Yeah. I mean, I’m from New Zealand, and when I came to America the death penalty struck me as a really inhumane thing. It’s seen by most of the world as this outdated, barbaric act. And it’s strange that it still exists in a country that spends so much time advertising their democracy and morals to the rest of the world. In the process of researching the project, I came across claims that reckon there’s about 12 people over the last 20 years who have been executed falsely in America. That’s only hearsay of course, but those people are still gone and they have no hope of a retrial.

There are a few weird requests in there—the Lord of the Rings DVD stands out as one of the weirder ones. Did you focus on the more unusual requests?
Yeah, I didn't want all the meals to be the same when I was recreating them. Also, a really obscure last request illustrates a lot about a person’s character. That was one of the weirder ones and he was granted it, so I thought that was cool and included it. It was the same thing with the pecan pie. The guy wanted to “save it for later,” which has to be so chilling for the guard to hear. That guy was said to be mentally ill, so he probably should have never been executed. That also makes you think; did he actually think he could have it later or did he realize what was going to happen?

Did you prepare all the meals yourself?
I got a chef friend of mine to do about half of them. He made up the more complex meals and the other half—the more simple ones, like the ice cream or the single olive—I just did myself.

The single olive is one of the more poignant images. Do you have any theories about it?
A lot of people have been hypothesizing about what the olive could mean. A lot of theories surround the symbolism of the olive tree and purity and making amends. I think there’s something to that and it might be a gesture on his part, but for all we know he might have just thought, "I’ll just order something weird and people can read whatever the hell they want into it."

So you think most of the requests are the inmates making a conscious final statement to the world?
Yeah. For me personally, I think I’d want to make some sort of a final statement. You’d like to feel that with your last choice you could say something that would potentially mean something or count to someone, as opposed to, “Let's just get some food, fill my belly up ,and leave no last words.”

It struck me that Timothy McVeigh’s request might be him making a statement. He murdered a huge amount of people and his last request was two pints of ice cream. Do you think that’s him making a comment on his own selfishness? A kind of “fuck you” to the world?
This is what I love about the project—everyone takes away his or her own interpretations. If that was his intention then I guess he’s clearly pulling that one off. He could be saying how selfish he is, or he could also just be saying he’s got the world’s most unrefined pallet and two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream is heaven to him.

Did you notice that the people who killed the least amount of people requested the smallest meals? Maybe appetite for food relates to somebody's appetite for killing.
That’s an interesting theory. My opinion would be that it probably isn’t related, because I think the guys who killed one or two people would have probably gone on killing if they weren’t caught.

What would you request for your last meal?
An everlasting gobstopper! Honestly, I think if I found myself in that position, I don’t think I could eat anything. I can barely eat breakfast before an exam. If I was on death row, I think food would be the last thing on my mind.

Do people ever criticize you for "humanizing" serial killers?
I guess that’s a valid point. I’ve kind of carried on this depressing trend of giving serial killers attention. My motivation for the project comes from my own curiosity. I wanted to see what these meals would look like. I wasn’t aiming for shock value or to build my reputation through other people’s sorrow—that definitely wasn’t an intention. I see my job as an artist and a photographer to present something and allow people to draw their own conclusions from it. I don’t think we need to totally solve the mystery for everyone. I think, like all good art, you’re also holding the mirror up to the viewer. They’re seeing something about themselves in their reaction to the pieces.

Yeah. Did you eat any of the meals?
There were a couple of tough choices. I hate letting good food go to waste as much as the next guy, but I thought it was too macabre. I did have a spoonful of the mint chocolate chip ice cream, but I couldn’t enjoy it—it almost had no taste. I just thought, "Oh God" and put it straight in the trash. It was kind of like going to a hospital and eating the lunch of someone who’s just been pronounced dead.

See more of Henry’s work on his website.

Follow Matthew on Twitter: @matthewfrancey

More photos we like:

Thomas Dworzak Has Photos of Sad Marines and Taliban Poseurs

Remember Haiti? Giles Clarke Does

Going Underground with the Homeless of Ulan Bator

~8-color hoodie (?) of a "GOLDEN AGE" hot air balloon between the word "GLORIOUS" & a volcano-shaped quadrilateral that seems slightly Where's Waldo?-like

me in 25–30 years

trying to be "goth," despite the mandatory school uniform (of a baby-blue tracksuit) & succeeding

I feel like I've worn outfits like this before (for variety, via boredom, or to hide from people or reality, to some degree, while in public) but maybe not in as extreme a manner as seen here with this man or woman

so much more luggage than anyone else

seems intense

woman "openly cacooning" through an 8-hour shift because she owns the store

I immediately, for some reason, think "Detective Zhao," a name that otherwise means nothing to me, that I'm aware of, whenever I look at this photo

almost can't discern if it's a small child or Joe Pesci-like adult

elderly man stoically shooting bubbles in a continuous, "all-out" manner (side/close-up view)

elderly man stoically shooting bubbles in a continuous, "all-out" manner (front/distant view)

Previously - Taipei Babies

Follow Tao on Twitter @tao_lin

In regards to the photos, Donald said, “Without confessions, courts everywhere would grind to a halt in an instant; more than 90 percent of all charges in the Russian and Ukrainian judicial systems end in guilty pleas, and only experienced criminals and highly educated defendants stand a chance. This is what the cops are doing behind their closed doors—the feudal system’s trial by ordeal is still much with us.”

Donald will be having an opening reception for Interrogations tonight at the Foley gallery in New York City, and the photos will be remain on display through the end of May. In anticipation of his big fancy opening, we sat down to talk to him about spending nearly a year hanging out in dirty Ukrainian police stations, watching people get beat up, Sharpied, and pistol-whipped. 

VICE: These were all from Ukraine, right?
Donald Weber: Yeah, exactly. It was in 2010 and 2011. I made two separate trips for three or four months each in the winter time.

How did you even know or stumble upon this? Through the police?
My very first trip was in 2005. I met the policeman who ended up becoming my guide into the criminal world. Over the next five years, I got to know him more and more and began to understand the idea of criminality and how it works. That's basically how I came up with the idea of doing an interrogation. It took me two or three years when I had the idea and then another two years to convince him to let me photograph.

How did you meet him in Ukraine?
It was my very first trip to the Ukraine. I didn't have much to do and my friend said, "I know a policeman. Why don't you go meet him?" That night he was going on a raid, and he asked me to come along to see what it was like. From there, I always maintained contact with him. Every time I'd go to the Ukraine, I would see him and go out. For one of my very first projects, he was a key component for introducing me to certain types of people.

What kind of people?
Kind of gangster dudes. Just low-level Mafia guys. Nothing serious.

What did you think of his character?
He is an incredibly conflicted character, I think. In one aspect, I'd hear him talking to criminals in Fenya—the language that criminals speak—and then he would call either his mom, wife, or his daughter and he'd be very goody-goody. He'd say, "Oh hi, Mommy! I love you and miss you so much!" There were these dual characters about him.

When did you first ask him about shooting the interrogation? Why would think to do that? Why would you think that would be any different than an interrogation in an American jail?
As I was developing my ideas in Russia and Ukraine, he was also blossoming as an officer. He was going up the ranks as I was figuring it out. The work that I wanted to do got a lot more in depth, so I would push it with him every trip. I would tell him, "Last time you showed me this. Now, let's go here. I want to see this." He was always open and honest. He would set his limits and if I obeyed, he'd have this door open for me. On one of my very first trips, a guy told about an interrogation that he had undergone. He was wrongfully accused of a brutal rape and murder. He told me what happened to him by the cops. I thought I would like to see this interrogation.

He was interrogated by this guy?
No, somebody else. Some other Russian cops about 15 years ago. I just remember this story was quite harrowing. I wasn't really sure how this idea of justice and such operates in that part of the world, but I got a very clear notion of an understanding that it's between the underclass and its bosses. I wanted to investigate that relationship.

It's interesting that you heard about the interrogation from one guy and wound up in this guy in Ukraine. What are the standards and practices in that part of the world, if you could summarize.
That was kind of the interesting thing. When he finally let me into an actual interrogation, I was horrified. I didn't really know what to do. This guy and his partner were incredibly brutal in terms of manipulating and understanding the human psychology. They could break someone in minutes just using words. Now, there was some physical violence, but generally it was more the psychological violence.

A lot of people are pretty petty criminals, right?
Yeah. I think the most major were accused rapists, but generally they are all mid-level thieves, drug dealers, prostitutes, and pimps.

You didn't see them interrogate a suspected murderer? It seemed like most of it was mid-level stuff, but is that just because of the lack of murders in the area? Would they not let you in for those? I'm just wondering how intense it could get.
The intensity is not based on the crime. It's based on the behavior of the accused. The guy with the gun to his head was a car thief. The reason why he got a gun to pulled to his head was just because he was disrespectful and he wasn't following the protocol of criminal-cop behavior. It's a really interesting system that's centuries old. The criminal hierarchy goes back a few hundred years in Slavic Europe and the cops are very much a part of that. They know where they sit. There's a way of speak, and cops have a begrudging respect to a thief. For rapists and for murderers, not so much. If you're a thief, regardless of what kind of thief you are, and you engage in the edict, you'll be fine. They'll question you and tell you what you need to do instead of sending you to prison. Basically, they'll give you a warning and let you go. For me, it all came down to the understanding and the relationship between someone who has something and someone who doesn't have anything.

Is that tied into communist values?
I think it goes beyond that. When I first started the work, that's what I wanted to do. I was thinking about Communism twenty years later. But what I realized is that Russian Ukraine is incredibly fertile soil. Not just for potatoes and wheat, but it's also fertile soil for domination. This idea of discipline. Discipline is innate to their character. It's basically what's happening now, they just keep changing their suits every 75 years. Now they have tailored suits where as before they had shitty Polish-made suits.

What was the room? Is it in a police station?
Yeah.

I've only been to Russia once, but to me it screamed Russia with bright pink wallpaper in an interrogation room. What was the room like? You don't really get to see much of it except for the perspective of which you photographed the people in the chair.
That's pretty much what you get. That was one of the police officer's offices. Other than that table, there was one other desk, which you don't see. That was basically the criminal table. There was usually one or two chairs, but sometimes there were no chairs. The chair became highly important in the interrogation. The cop in the beginning would move the chair or maybe put a bag on the chair and he'd ask the criminal to take a seat. The criminal would pick the bag up and put it on the ground and cop would say that he never told him to move the bag. It was this whole game. These guys were actually quite sophisticated. They had very sophisticated sensibility and instincts of how a character works and how space works.

There's obviously the photo with the gun to the guy’s head. Did that happen only happen once?
Uh, no. Sometimes they had one chairs, sometimes two chairs, and sometimes no chairs. Each time, the cop would set the room and see how the convict would react.

What other acts of violence did you see that were physical?
Lots of punching and hitting. Humiliation was really what it was about. It was about weakness. Like the one with the boy with the writing on his forehead, that was actually quite a long, brutal session. I remember him saying, "I'm going to fuck you in the ass." He took a billy club and was using it like a dick on his face.

Did you get a sense that this was isolated in terms of how they were interrogating?
No. That was an interesting turning point for me was when I figured it out. At first I thought, this was just particular to these two guys. I talked to my friend about it and I was telling him they were just bullies basically. He told me that they were really good cops. My associate there rose really quickly up the ranks. He started off as a junior officer, and within five years he was a major. He was a good cop, I hate to say, and he did his job well. Partly, he explained to me that this is his training. They are actually doing what they are taught. Techniques of physical abuse are actually taught in cop school.

So I kind of realized that I couldn't bring my American values of justice there because that's not the way they do it—this is the way they do it. I'm not there to judge it. But then another sort of major turning point is that in Canada there was this famous case about two years ago of an Air Force colonel, the prime minister's personal pilot, who was a serial rapist who murdered women. He would photograph them. He was caught, and they showed on television his interrogation because the news media were saying that this was like a classic interrogation—this is a perfect interrogation. And the techniques that these Canadian cops were using were exactly the same as the Ukrainian cops. Like the positioning of the chair, how they make the guy always sit, the cop is always standing. Of course there's no physical abuse, but the mental manipulation that these Canadian cops were imposing on the rapist were amazing. Because the rapist comes in as not a suspect, and within two hours he's confessed his crime. I just saw the parallels, like, "Shit, it has nothing to do with a Ukrainian cop or a Russian or an American cop, it has everything to do with—you know, it's a power relationship."

I'm sure you've been asked this—Do you think that any of these confessions were coerced?
I think a lot of the information… Well, basically what the cops are looking for, they're not looking to convict a crime, but they're looking for information. So there's kind of a steady game played between the cops and the convict. If the convict can release some information that the police are happy with, then we can go. And if the policeman is seen as getting information, then his job is secure from his higher-ups.

There's a quota of how many people they get to sign a confession?
Confessions, how many criminals they've arrested, how many successful prosecutions… it's all different.

But say they let someone go who's like a petty thief but they get information, how do they justify that to their bosses?
Informants, basically, is what they're looking for.

OK, I get it. Let me ask you one more. You don't reveal the name of the town at any time, obviously that would compromise them…
No.

What was the area like in terms of poverty and crime?
It was a medium-sized town, city. Industrial… Pretty typical for Russia/Ukraine. It was Russian-speaking in Ukraine. I would say it's like an industrial blue-collar city.

OK. And the crime rate was pretty was pretty standard for that kind of city?
Maybe even a little bit higher. I think all crime rates in that part of the world are pretty high. 

confusion baby

bat baby

warlord baby

scary-unexplained baby (approaching magic-ladybug-christmas-princess baby)

trying-to-accept-an-unfairly-harsh-seeming-reality baby (with constant-aggression sibling)

technology baby

paranoid-anxiety baby (with idle-disapproval father)

paranoid-anxiety baby (in alternate universe with, instead of idle-disapproval father, blurry-action father)

carefree baby

mushroom-helmet baby

frog-headed baby

arch-enemy babies (in the first, prologue-like scene of a half-assed superhero movie)

homeless babies (in a flashback-scene of a movie about lifelong friendship)

conspicuously misplaced baby

time-travel baby (staring in confusion at the empty stroller, frustratedly unable to comprehend the mechanics of time travel, after traveling two years into the future because it wanted to be able to push itself where it, not its mother, who it seems to have replaced, wanted to go)

Follow Tao on Twitter @tao_lin

Magnum is probably the most famous photo agency in the world. Even if you haven't heard of it, chances are you're familiar with its images, be they Robert Capa's coverage of the Spanish Civil War or Martin Parr's very British holiday-scapes. Unlike most agencies, Magnum's members are selected by the other photographers in the agency, so becoming a member is a pretty grueling process. As part of an ongoing partnership with Magnum, we will be profiling some of their photographers over the coming weeks.

Thomas Dworzak joined Magnum in 2000. His books often deal with war. His first, Taliban, was a found-photo project which freaked out a lot of Americans who didn’t want to see what the Taliban looked like when they were fooling about. M*A*S*H IRAQ examined the daily lives of US medevac teams in Iraq, and his latest book, Kavkuz, explored the impact that years of brutal war had on the Caucasus region. Oddly enough, in spite of shooting in some of the most hellish conditions imaginable, he thinks Paris is the hardest place to work in.

VICE: You are often described as a "war photographer." How do you feel about that?
Thomas Dworzak: It’s a label. What are you going to do about it? I’m not going to say I am not one, because I do go, and I used to go very often, to these conflict areas. But there are definitely people out there who are more into combat than me. There is a scale of how much involvement in war one has. And I’m not all the way up there.

How did working in Chechnya during the war there differ from your time in Iraq?
I think in Chechnya, I was more on the ground. I was hitchhiking around, trekking alone. You would talk to the fighters, you would spend time with them, and then if there was an attack you would arrive with them. It was all done in a very disorganized, one to one, personal way. I think Chechnya was very extreme as a war, compared to anything that I have seen since.

IRAQ. Out camp Sykes, Between Mosul and the Syrian Border, Town of Talofar. January 16, 2005. Task Force 1-14. Joint foot patrol with the local ING (Iraqi National Guard) and Iraqi Police. Encouraging locals to vote. The patrol gets pinned down in a two-hour firefight with insurgents.

Extreme in what way?
Just the sheer amount of stuff I saw flying around. It was an atrocious war. Bosnia was very brutal of course, but there was not so much physical destruction, it was more killing and revenge on a very personal and human level, between neighbors or whatever. Chechnya was brutal in every way. The destruction of Grozny reached a level I had not seen until then and haven’t seen since. I guess you might come across something like it now in Aleppo, for example. There was no accreditation when I was working there, no paperwork. I learned Russian so I could talk to the fighters. They were welcoming, so I spent time with them. Whereas in Iraq and Afghanistan I was embedded. You get your piece of paper and the military has to take care of you.

In what way did that affect your work? What’s your view on the embed format, do you think it worked well?
I think there is a strange kind of freedom in the structure of an embed. A lot of people have been bitching about it, going on about the embed being "the end of press freedom" and all that, but I don’t really think that’s true. I don’t know anything about Iraq really; I haven’t seen Iraq outside of the American point of view for so long now. But if I choose to cover the American angle, then an embed is not a bad way to do it. Because it is so institutionalized, you can actually move around and do a lot. You don’t have to beg, you don’t have to worry about anything. It’s a bit duller in that sense. You just have to follow the guys in front of you. And there are not that many decisions to be made. I find embeds pretty relaxing in that way.

Was your M•A•S•H• IRAQ project concluded over one single embed?
It was almost all embed work. I don’t want to overemphasize the fact that some photos—just a few—weren’t taken in embeds, as it's meant to be an embed book. I don’t know, maybe it was two years or three years, something like that. The core of the work was done over a year, I did maybe five or six embeds with the medical units over that time.

2005. M*A*S*H. Screenshots of US TV serial, 1969–1981 about an army hospital and medevac unit near the frontlines in the Korean War.

And how did the decision to splice screenshots from the M•A•S•H TV show into the book come about?
Actually, when I started the project, I didn’t know about M•A•S•H. I think I had maybe seen about half an episode once when I was a kid, but it definitely was not part of my cultural background. When I started the embed one of my friends sent me the DVD box set so I wouldn’t get bored. As the entire embed was spent sitting next to an airfield with helicopters waiting to fly off to pick up the wounded, it was always very noisy, so I watched it with subtitles on. I don’t really know why I started taking pictures of my screen, but then suddenly there were these really amazing one or two line quotes. It was funny to see that 20 or 30 years later we still find ourselves in the same situation, with the same talking points. Some of the medics displayed a similar gallows humor, but generally it’s all very antiseptic. It is a volunteer army, you don’t get drafted, it’s clean and, of course, there are no hippies in it.

In contrast to your Chechen work and M•A•S•H IRAQ, your work on the Taliban photo book was a kind of "found project," I guess?
A "stolen" project, probably…

Right. So you found the photos in a sort of photo parlor near where you were staying in Kandahar, right?
I found them—and I bought them. I went to the labs and said to the owners, “Can I buy these, or take pictures of them, or get prints or whatever? I really love this stuff.” I was pretty enthusiastic, and they were surprised at my interest and sold them for 20 or 40 dollars. They didn’t care. The photographers were pissed off at the Taliban, so they were happy that somebody had paid for these pictures. They definitely didn’t see any of them as being of any value. It was odd, the Taliban first banned photography, then they shut down the studios, then they re-opened the studios, then they had themselves photographed, but they didn’t allow anyone else to do it.

AFGHANISTAN. Kandahar. 2002. Taliban portrait.

Pretty weird. I guess a lot of the photos might represent people who are now dead, though obviously it is impossible to tell. Was there any follow-up from the project?
No. I sent the books to the shop owners, hoping to hear back from them, but I never got anything back. Before we printed the book I tried to get in touch with them to see if they wanted to say anything. People talk a lot about that project, and I am associated with it, but I’m just the messenger. I just want to put these photos out there and ensure that they aren’t lost. It’s not about me, or my photography.

I got a lot of criticism in Europe for being disrespectful to the culture, as if I had taken the pictures. People were outraged, like, "How dare you dress them up like that!" As if I violated the dignity of the Taliban or something, which was pretty amusing. It was hard to get it published in New York. It’s very popular in the gay world, it was republished in Germany by a publisher specializing in gay issues.

I bet the Taliban would be thrilled to hear that. Which place have you found the hardest to work in?
Er, France? Paris, specifically.

Really? More than Chechnya or any war zone?
Yes. In the sense of how suspicious people are in Paris. They glorify photography and they have Cartier-Bresson images on every corner, but at the same time if you want to take a picture everyone gets really upset. They have the speech ready, they have the whole thing practiced, about how horrible photographers are and how awful what we do is. It’s very odd.

In 2001 or 2002 we did a group project on the 18th arrondissement in Paris. It was something like "18 Magnum Photographers Photograph the 18th." The idea was that everyone would get a different story. I was the youngest, so I got a sort of hazing assignment, which was covering crack use at Chateau Rouge, which is a fucked-up Metro station. So we covered everything, from the social workers to the drug addicts and everybody had a lot to say about how horrible photographers were.

What are you currently working on?
I am back in the Caucasus. I am concentrating on contemporary, modern Georgia. What I did before was more of a romantic view of the Caucasus, which I turned into a book, Kavkaz. It was about the interplay between Russian literature and the typical imagery of the Caucasus. I have now gone to the other extreme, this new work is color and focuses on the region’s modern aspects. It excludes what usually attracts people to this place, so the quaint, the nostalgic, the wild mountain holidays—I didn’t do any of that stuff. I did gas-station openings, which is far more interesting!

Click through to see more photography by Thomas Dworzak.

Grozny, Chechnya. 2002. Hospital No9. More then a dozen civilians were injured when a Russian Army APC ran into a bus.
 

IRAQ. Base Falcon, Baghdad. January 2005. Base Falcon during the weeks before and after the first Iraqi elections 01/30/2005. Medevac of 4 Turkish truck drivers who were seriously injured in a RPG attack on their trucks while bringing supplies for the US Army). During the evacuation the shelling continued.

RAQ. Base Falcon, Baghdad. January 2005. Base Falcon during the weeks before and after the first Iraqi elections 01/30/2005. Medevac of 4 Turkish truck drivers who were seriously injured in a RPG attack on their trucks while bringing supplies for the US Army). During the evacuation the shelling continued.

IRAQ. Fallujah. June 12, 2005. al-Anbar province. Marines and Iraqis getting briefed for patrol. 2nd MEF (Second Marine Expeditionary Force), US Marines from Camp Lejune, North.
 

AFGHANISTAN. 2002.
 

RUSSIA. Grozny, Chechnya. 02/2002.

RUSSIA. Grozny, Chechnya. February 2002. Body of a Chechen man who worked in the Traffic Police Department of the Pro-Russian Chechen militia and was shot in his car.

AFGHANISTAN. Kandahar. 2002. Taliban portrait.

AFGHANISTAN. Kandahar. 2002. Taliban portrait.
 

IRAQ, near Tikrit/Samara, US FOB Base Speicher, 4-2005 Soldiers and Medics watching their comrade die. US soldier injured by Roadside Bomb on convoy dies later in the CSH, field.

Previously - Steve McCurry Goes to Horrific Places and Returns With Incredible Photos

More from Magnum:

The Way Christopher Anderson Sees the World is Amazing

Posh Snow, by Martin Parr

Bruce Gilden Does Street Photography Right

Photos and Words by Taji Ameen.

@RedAlurk 

On January 12, 2010, a massive earthquake hit Haiti, killing over 230,000 people, injuring many more, and leaving 1.5 million homeless. Although the media has since moved on for the most part, many Haitians are still struggling in scores of tent cities around Port-au-Prince and all along the coast. In Léogâne, a seaside town near the epicenter of the quake, 90 percent of the town's buildings were destroyed and a quarter of its residents died. Many aid organizations such as Medicin sans Frontieres had two-year contracts from the Haitian government to provide services to the tent cities, but these contracts have quietly been allowed to expire, leaving thousands of families in dire straits. Many don't like to talk about the earthquake and find solace in the spiritual—either in Christian churches or at voodoo ceremonies. There are now over 12,000 registered NGO organizations in Haiti, which is still the poorest country in the western hemisphere. 

Léogâne, 20 miles to the west of Port-au-Prince, was one of the hardest-hit towns. Survivors were treated on hospital ships that moored just off the coast in those first frantic few days following the quake. 

The UN and many international aid agencies are actively helping the people rebuild their homes and lives. Many of the town's surviving residents will never sleep in stone buildings again and now camp in tents and makeshift houses behind the dilapidated ruins of the few remaining buildings.

A bird's eye view of Cité Soleil, a shanty town near Port-au-Prince that grew to an estimated 200,000 to 400,000 residents, the majority of whom live in extreme poverty. The area is generally regarded as one of the poorest and most dangerous areas of the western hemisphere and it is one of the world's largest slums. Cité Soleil has has a poorly maintained open canal system that serves as its sewage system, few formal businesses, sporadic but largely free electricity, a few hospitals, and a single government school, Lycee Nationale de Cite Soleil. 

Children on the seawall in Cité Soleil. The boats in the background are laden with charcoal that is shipped in from an island just off the coast to the north.

In the abandoned warehouses in Cité Soleil, young gang members (or "soldiers," as they call themselves) take shelter from the midday sun. For several years, the area was ruled by gangs, each of which controlled a few blocks. Government control was reestablished after a series of operations in early 2007 by the United Nations Stabilization Mission in Haiti with the participation of the locals. Though the gangs no longer rule, murder, rape, kidnapping, looting, and shootings are still common. The area has been calleda "microcosm of all the ills in Haitian society: endemic unemployment, illiteracy, non-existent public services, unsanitary conditions, rampant crime, and armed violence." After the earthquake, it took nearly two weeks for aid to arrive in Cité Soleil.

In Haiti, 63 children out of a thousand die at birth and the country has one of the worst infant mortality rates in the world. It's an improvement from the 1950s, when the rate was a shocking 240 per thousand. Thankfully, this number continues to decline... but not fast enough. 

Charcoal is delivered to a warehouse in Cité Soleil.

On almost every street corner in Haiti, there are vendors selling charcoal for cooking food and boiling water as wood has become very scare. This is not a direct effect of the earthquake, but a long-term trend that's played out over the last century. In 1923, over 60 percent of Haiti's land was forested; by 2006, that had dropped to less than 2 percent.

A man on crutches in Léogâne. 

A man harvests sugarcane in the fields around Leogan. The Darbonne sugar mill employes over 1,000 workers to harvest the cane and another 250 in the processing plant. Haiti used to produce 250,000 metric tons of raw sugar a year, but it is fighting not just against the aftereffects of the earthquake, but against the developed world's sugar producers, which have a stranglehold on the industry.

Bill Clinton, who was the US Special Envoy to Haiti, spoke to the US news outlet Democracy Now a few months after the quake and admitted that the US had made a "devil's bargain" when it adopted trade policies that destroyed Haitian rice production and severely crippled the country's sugar production:

"Since 1981, the United States has followed a policy, until the last year or so when we started rethinking it, that we rich countries that produce a lot of food should sell it to poor countries and relieve them of the burden of producing their own food, so, thank goodness, they can leap directly into the industrial era. It has not worked. It may have been good for some of my farmers in Arkansas, but it has not worked. It was a mistake. It was a mistake that I was a party to. I am not pointing the finger at anybody. I did that. I have to live every day with the consequences of the lost capacity to produce a rice crop in Haiti to feed those people, because of what I did. Nobody else."

These ladies had just finishing washing clothes in the La Goseline river that runs down to the sea through Jacmel. When Hurricane Sandy hit here a week before it hit the US, many of the banana plantations that line the river were washed away, and now the country has to import bananas,coconuts, and plantains from the Dominican Republic, which has driven up food prices considerably.

The cemetery in Léogâne.

Joumabon lights a pipe of tobacco in his altar room.

Giles Clarke, one of our favorite intrepid photographers, recently went to Haiti and sent us back these gorgeous and thought-provoking images, as well as the above words on the current status of the island. Check out more of his work here.

Wanna see more stuff like this?

Giles Clarke Ventures into the Neon Underground

Inside the Abandoned Radioactive Towns of Japan

Going Underground with the Homeless of Ulan Bator

It's an honor to finally talk to you, Mikel. You are originally from the Basque part of Spain, yet you consistently do your projects in Asia. How did you communicate with your subjects? Do you learn the language of each place prior to going, or do you overcome the language barrier in some other way?
Mikel Aristregi: Being able to understand people you are photographing is a basic necessity. For that reason, I enlisted the help of Zoolbo, a young Mongolian English student brave enough to go into their world. I usually try to learn very basic words just to be able to say something when I'm without the translator. And also because people appreciate the effort you do to learn their language, even if you don't know much, the connection between the two parts is better and faster. Everybody likes to have their culture respected by others.

You are definitely honoring these people, photographing mostly unknown sub-cultures and presenting their issues that are hidden from most of the world. On a similar tone, your subjects in -40/96° series seem to have reached a point of lonely desperation, ridden by alcoholism. How did you manage to get these kinds of people to allow you to photograph them in such a low point in their lives?
I started frequenting the piece of open land next to Harhorin Market, at the western part of Ulan Bator, one of the two main points in the city where they are gathered. I tried to explain to them what I was doing there, and asked if they would allow me to spend time with them and take photos, but communication was really hard. They accepted me because they thought they could get something back, like money, food, or cigarettes. They were looking for immediate personal profit, so getting closer took me some time.

Despite having an interpreter, communication was difficult, since they were drunk, easily distracted and had trouble understanding. Sometimes they became aggressive, asking for money with threats. When this happened, Zoolbo, my translator, and I had to distance ourselves and wait for things to calm down. Their moods were unpredictable and changed from one minute to another.

Despite this instability, your connection with your subjects certainly prevailed. As a photojournalist covering such visceral and poignant subject matter, documenting people who seem to really need some assistance, do you ever feel the need to step in and help in some way? Or did you want to be a silent observer and not interject, as to better capture the true nature of the situation?
I always try to be a silent observer in a general context, at least at first. I think there are few things you can do to help such a big group of people while you are shooting, in the short term. Keep making photos and trust in your work, trust in the repercussions that it can have in the future (perhaps getting involved with an NGO, for example) is the best way to help them in my opinion. Of course, as you get closer to them, it's impossible not to help one, bringing him to the hospital, buying some food or things like that. As the days pass, you start feeling empathy for some of them, so it's hard not to act beyond just taking photos.

For example, a young man of 25, Enkhbaatar, had been drinking since he was 15. His parents died when he was a child, so he spent his childhood and youth living with NGOs and in state-run orphanages. Now he lives on the streets. He has a daughter, but his wife doesn't allow contact. He lost sight in one eye during a fight and now has frequent heavy headaches.

I met him at an evangelical center where he was trying to move away from the "bad life," as he called it. A Bible is the only psychological support these alcoholics get at the center, so after ten days Enkhbaatar ran away and started drinking again. Days later, I found very him sick, so I took him to the hospital and, of course, I paid the bill and the medicines for the treatment; you just can't say no, you don't want to say no!

I guess it is ultimately the photographer's decision as to what degree they should be ethical and intervene. Speaking of absurd stories, what is the background surrounding the image of the woman with circular marks on her body being carried away by people in military uniforms? It fits with the rest of the photographs, but has more of a political charge than the other images.
I know it's very impressive, but it isn't what people may think; it has nothing to see with repression or torture done by police. These circles are caused with a technique of Chinese traditional medicine consisting of putting cupping glasses on the back to stimulate blood circulation. This technique is pretty common in Asia. It was just a coincidence that the woman arrested for being drunk and causing troubles had been treated by this medical technique.

Speaking of interesting traditons, there is something curious I've noticed about you. All of the work on your website is done in diverse parts of Asia. Is there a reason you are particularly drawn to these areas? Asian fever?
Not really. I did my first long trip to the Southeast Asia just because an ex-girlfriend wanted to go there. Once in Cambodia, I met some people that brought me back, this time to document the daily life of the street children of Phnom Penh. So I got some money, and I stayed five months there. Then, I got a Fotopress grant to work in Ulan Bator, so that's where I went. Looks like trips and subjects are somehow connected for me; one takes me to the next.

Excited to see where your latest work will lead you!

Check out -40/96° and Mikel Aristregi's other photo-documentaries on his website.

You will rarely see strangers in my photographs. I want my work to be personal. I feel like everyone who attempts photography sees their work as personal. It’s those daily interactions with individuals I like to capture—odd moments we notice, like the light that comes in through the window and falls on the wall.

I’m constantly traveling, seeking out isolation, confusion, and beauty. Most of my work is completed while sitting alone in my studio, while even my portraits have moved toward self-portraiture. I just really hate shooting people.

See more of Delaney's work here and here.

More great photos:

Give Shane Deegan a Job

Steve McCurry Photographs the Human Condition

Chris Bethell Tells Lies About Manchester

@JohnMartinIV

I’m sorry to say this, but I like Patrick O’Dell the photographer more than I like Patrick O’Dell the creator/producer/handsome face of VICE’s hit show, Epicly Later’d. I think that says a lot about how much I love Patrick’s photos because I’m a huge fan of that show. I really loved seeing Patrick’s photos in print. The charm was that he always fully submerged himself in whatever tour/adventure he was photographing, which ultimately made the viewer feel like they were there in the moment as well. So many photographers stand back and play fly on the wall. It takes a very talented person to suck people into a moment and make it resonate inside them. Patrick’s photos always gave me that feeling.

I told a story about one of Patrick’s photos on Chromeball Incident a few months back. If you haven’t heard it, here it is.

This Asbury Park pool-destruction image was in Built to Grind, the Indy 25-year anniversary book. There was a proof page with registration marks and Bryce Kanights’s editor’s notes written on it in Sharpie for auction at one of the last ASR trade shows I ever attended. The following story is one of the main reasons I stopped attending trade shows.

The skateboarding industry is littered with kooks, and trade shows are filled to the brim with them. As soon as I saw this photo for auction, I told myself it was coming home to New Jersey with me. I bid $200 and waited. I literally stood next to the thing drinking wine, waiting to dissuade people from bidding. For some time, no one else bid. No one even looked. Then some bro-brah surf kook came along and bid $205. I told him not to bother. I was going to win that photo, and so I bid $300.

“Oh yeah, dude?” he said, “Fuck that!” He bid $1,000. I was stunned.

“What are you doing, guy?” I asked.

“You’re not winning this, I am,” he told me. He then upped his bid to $2,000.

 “Why? Why are you being a fucking prick,” I asked.

“Because I can,” he said. Real piece of shit. I asked him if the image had any meaning to him. He said no, that he just liked it, and he liked pissing me off. I actually liked that last part, I could relate to it. It made me smile at him. But not too wide. I threw back my last gulp of wine and said, “Fine. Listen, I’m going to be right over there,” I pointed at the bar. “I’m going to start drinking very heavily, very quickly. I’m not going to take my eyes off you for the rest of the night. After you pay the $2,000, I’m going to follow you into the hallway, beat the piss out of you, and take the fucking photo. Understand?” He laughed. I laughed, too. I laughed all the way to the bar. Then I stopped laughing and started really drinking. For an hour I mad dogged the fuck out of this asshole in sandals. I don’t remember now if he even had a shirt on. It got so uncomfortable for him that people in every conversation he got into had to ask who the guy was at the bar trying to melt him with his eyes.

When there were five minutes left on the auction he came over to me. Half joking, half cautious, he said, “Come on, dude! I was just kidding with you.”

“I wasn’t kidding with you, dude. Pay the money. I’m taking the photo. I’m going to knock you the fuck out right in front of everyone.” He had no response. He just walked over and crossed his name off the bid.

“There,” he said. “It’s yours.”

“It was mine either way, you fucking kook.”

It now sits proudly above the pool table in my basement, where many a traveling team has come over and asked about it before being subjected to the above story.

The truth is if another photographer shot that photo I wouldn’t be as passionate about owning it. There are a thousand ways someone else would fuck up that shot, starting by shooting it with a fisheye and getting all close and tight on the crane. But Patrick has the gift to put you in the moment, letting one frame tell the full story.

I wish he shot more photos (aside from his Epicly Later’d site), or rather, that I could see more of his photos in skate mags. I miss his visual storytelling. I also wish I were flying to LA this weekend so I could see his Skateboard High School show at Known Gallery.

Instead, I’m forced to make him send me a copy of the limited-edition book from the show and email him some questions about it.

VICE: You have a new photo show opening tonight at Known Gallery in LA called Skateboard High School. Tell me about it.
Patrick O’Dell: It's mostly prints culled from dusty boxes. I also took a shit ton of negs I've never even looked through from my time in art school to Costco and had shitty prints made. Altamont is sponsoring it, it’s at Known Gallery, and I’m not sure about the opening date because Known is promoting the opening as April 5, but Altamont is saying it’s April 4. Same flyer, different dates. I'll just play it by ear. [Editor's note: it's tonight.]

One of your recent Instagram posts was a photo of a box of prints for the show that was FedEx’d out to you in LA from your basement in Ohio. Did you have an idea of what the show would be before the boxes arrived? Were you surprised by some of their contents?
Yes, my sister FedExe’d me some boxes. She was having trouble because there are so many prints, and I just told her to send the ones that look like skaters. I read that your body regenerates all of its cells within seven years time, so these pictures were shot by someone with my name, two regenerations ago, probably drunk. I don't even know who the people are in most of the pictures. A lot of them are from my time trying to break into skate photography. I was shooting ams like Karl Watson, Lil’ Stevie, and pros like Chad Knight, Josh Kasper, and James Kelch. A lot of the pictures are party photos, too. I was immersed. I remembered most of the pictures as being pretty bad, but when I looked through them, they were taken so long ago, in a whole other time period in skateboarding, that they look cool with age.

What’s the best story you recall from these photos?
A lot of stuff from a party/skate house I lived in called the Howard House. I lived there with John Trippe, Ocean Howell, Richard Hart, and others. Simon Evans lived there at one point. It was a weird time in my life, so ghetto in a way. I was also drinking all the time and smoking weed, so I don't remember it that well. I remember what was going through my head at the time, and it was mostly embarrassing. I’m sure in the future I’ll look back on the current time period and think the same thing.

What part of Ohio are you from and what was life like there?
Columbus, Ohio. I didn't actually grow up there, but I went to high school there, so that's where I say I'm from. It was pretty suburban—almost rural at the time. I lived in a huge city before moving there, so it was a weird transition for me. I was born in St. Louis, moved to Connecticut, then Louisville, then Pennsylvania, Cincinnati, Hong Kong, to Columbus. It was a weird trip for me, and probably why I continue to move a lot.

The show is called Skateboard High School. What was your high school experience like? Mine was the absolute worst. I was thrown out for putting my algebra teacher in the hospital after breaking her neck.
I used to get picked on… actually, I was picked on my entire life, so by the time I got to high school I had pretty much given up on ever having friends. I had some skate friends and that's it. I think I hated school more than most people—I hated it with a passion. I may never set foot in another school as long as I live.

How do you think the high school experience is different for skateboarders today vs. our generation? We were outcasts back then.
I drove by my old high school recently, and there were kids skating in the parking lot. It’s very different now. Sometimes I think the skaters I pick for my Epicly Later'd skate show and the people I hang out with are from that weird, misguided outcast perspective on skating. But most skaters today are probably pretty well adjusted—they are the new quarterbacks. But to be a pro I think you have to be pretty odd. You can't get too distracted with girls and being cool because those things are way funner than learning flip-in flip-outs. I’ve seen some skaters progress until they find some popularity then never learn another trick.

After living in Cincinnati, I always called Ohio “the other New Jersey.” Do you see any similarities between the two?
I lived in Cincinnati for two years when I was young, and yeah, I can see that. Cincinnati and Cleveland are pretty old industrial cities. Columbus was a farm in comparison. Now it’s growing, and those other cities are shrinking due to manufacturing moving to other countries. Cincinnati and Cleveland are almost like Detroit.

You’ve created quite the following with your Epicly Later’d show, and you’re always getting hit up with suggestions of who to do episodes on. Can you tell the kids who you have coming up?
I think Ed Templeton is next. He has reluctantly agreed, he said it will be bad but he'll do it anyway. I think it will be awesome. 

Any chance of getting a Kris Markovich episode? He was always one of my favorites. He skated 100 miles per hour and pioneered gnar street skating, but I feel he doesn’t get the credit he deserves?
It’s possible. I don't think I've ever seen him in real life. I saw him on a reality TV show about cakes once. I think. My long-term goal is to get to everyone, maybe not a full episode, but at least a side tangent somewhere.

VICE recently opened an office in LA. Does that mean we can expect to see episodes more often? Does that make life easier?
I hope I can have the show edited there. It'd be sad because the editors in NYC are so great. Abby Ellis, Lauren Cynamon, Kelly Hudson, and Eileen Kennedy are the New York editors, and they kill it. I send them disorganized raw interviews, and they shape it into a real show. But if they get an office in LA, I could actually show face from time to time. I go off the grid sometimes, I can't help it.

Last time we spoke you were working on a project with Richard Kern for Altamont’s holiday collection. How was it working with him?
He's awesome. We used some of his old pics from his black-and-white Sonic Youth era, which was my entryway into his work. He shot some of the last photos of GG Allin, so we put some of that stuff on shirts.  But he actually shot our catalog for that season. It’s not out yet, sorry Altamont, but it’s awesome. Although it might be confusing to retailers wondering why our clothes are on half-naked girls, since we don't make girls’ clothes.

Was it hard suppressing a boner while he was shooting naked chicks?
I guess so… I try to put my professional cap on. I filmed a behind-the-scenes video, which got intense.

What else are you working on?
I'm making a Cass McCombs video right now, and I might do a video about Wade Speyer for Vans, hopefully. All kinds of crap. If I don't get my creative energy out, I get depressed and destructive. If one day goes by where I'm not working I get very self-doubting—I start to think that everything I do and have done is lame and that I'm a loser.

I know the feeling.

Patrick’s Skateboard High School Photo show opens in a few hours at the Known Gallery in LA and runs through the weekend.

For more of Patrick’s photos go to http://www.epiclylaterd.com/

To buy the limited edition color zine made for Patrick’s show goto http://www.deadbeatclubpress.com/product/coming-soon-patrick-o-dell-skateboard-high-school

More stupid can be found at Chrisnieratko.com or @Nieratko

Now, at 24, you could say she's on the road to becoming the "It" photographer, with an intriguing portfolio that I've tried to get bored of but can't. Plus, google her and try not to fall in love with her beautiful face. Totally impossible. And she was kind enough to send us some mostly unreleased photographs to share with you guys.

Coco Young's photographs employ a particular aesthetic that manages to create a push and pull between intimacy and voyeurism with her subjects—to an almost surreal degree. Sometimes her photos feel way too intimate with a weird-ass sitter presented beyond the point of comfort, and then the next image surprisingly manages to put us at ease with an intricate seminude. You go from seeing a casual portrait of Charlotte Free in a hallway to an Asian man with a Hitler mustache and an awkward bowl cut, to someone climbing up a gravestone as if it were an unholy Kilimanjaro. In a generation filled with daily-life, snapshot photography, Coco Young is doing it better.

Check out her work and her blog and drool a little bit.

Look at some more photos from VICE:

Steve McCurry Photographs the Human Condition

Suzanna Zak Is Under the Spell of the Yukon

Being Old in Romania Can Be a Lot of Fun

Magnum is probably the most famous photo agency in the world. Even if you haven't heard of it, chances are you're familiar with its images, be they Robert Capa's coverage of the Spanish Civil War or Martin Parr's very British holiday-scapes. Unlike most agencies, Magnum's members are selected by the other photographers on the agency, so becoming a member is a pretty gruelling process. As part of an ongoing partnership with Magnum, we will be profiling some of their photographers over the coming weeks.

Steve McCurry's photo of Sharbat Gula, titled Afghan Girl, appeared on the cover of National Geographic in 1985 during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan. It quickly became one of the most famous photos in the world. McCurry's work covering the mujahideen's long fight against the Soviet war machine in the mid-to-late 80s further cemented his position as a hugely influential photojournalist. Since then, he has documented the human impact of wars across the world and collected numerous awards for his photos. I gave him a call to find out about nearly getting killed on the job, and the effect of seeing so much horror over so many years.

Mujahideen fighters, Afghanistan

VICE: Hi, Steve. Afghan Girl is probably one of the most iconic images of the 20th century. Is it ever annoying that, from all of your work, one image is seen as so representative of your career?
Steve McCurry: Not at all. In fact, the contrary. I don’t think that has ever occurred to me.

You worked in Afghanistan for a long time. How do you feel the situation in the country has changed since the Soviet war?
It’s always a dangerous place, and there has always been ongoing fighting. Any time you’re in a combat situation, it is dangerous. I think in the beginning there was a lot of goodwill toward foreigners, or to pretty much anybody who was willing to support or help the people there, which included the West, and, effectively, pretty much anyone aside from the Soviet Union. India, Europe, China, and the US were all welcomed. Now there is obviously opposition in Afghanistan—the Taliban see the West and NATO as the enemy, so by virtue of my birth, they now see me as the enemy. Before they were taking hostages and asking for ransom, now they just kill you for political reasons.

Does Afghanistan feel more dangerous than other places you've worked?
All these places, war zones, present different problems. Afghanistan, Iraq during the Gulf War, places like Beirut or Cambodia. But yes, perhaps Afghanistan was the most dangerous. When I was there back in 1979–80 with mujahideen fighters, I was often days from help, out on location, perhaps two days from the nearest road, often with men who were not well trained and with whom you had a lot of communication problems and language barriers. You were being bombed with mortars and artillery and aircraft, and you’re with a bunch of ragtag fighters, who were certainly brave, but maybe short on training.

Afghanistan, Kunar Province, 1980. A young mujahid fighter.

Has anyone ever attempted to sabotage your work?
Yeah, I have been sabotaged in the sense that I was not able to leave my hotel or do work. I wouldn’t say I was a hostage, but I was a captive, I would say.

Has your time in war zones affected your relationship with politics?
There are so many different issues. I ultimately think that people want to be respected, and there is often a power struggle in places where you have war; in the case of Lebanon, it was between the Christian faction and the Syrians, or the Muslim faction or the Palestinians. In the case of Afghanistan, it was what’s now the Taliban, or Pashtun against some other ethnic divisions. Places like Kashmir, it’s the Muslims against the Hindus. It usually boils down to a power play. I don't know if that answers your question, but the reality is that I think sometimes somebody wants to just take control and take the power, and they want it by any means necessary.

You have been in some very dangerous situations. You were in a plane crash, you've been shot at, shelled, etc. What's the decision process like when you're faced with getting the photos versus taking huge risks?
I think you always want to work in a margin of safety. I think somebody who is a reporter or photographer needs to be working with good people, translators and guides, assistants who understand the situation. You want to be careful. So yeah, I think that’s the way I’ve always tried to operate—it's not just sort of winging it. Obviously places like Syria or Libya are risky, but you still want to try to work in the margin of safety as best as possible.

Girl with green shawl, Peshawar, Pakistan, 2002

Have you ever misjudged a situation and suddenly realized it was considerably more unpleasant than you initially thought?
One time I misjudged a situation with the small plane in Yugoslavia, which the guy crashed into a lake. That was… well, I don’t know. There is always a balance you’re trying to achieve when you’re in these places. On the one hand, you do have to take some sorts of risks—you can't be too timid. But you need to calculate the risks. You weigh the situation, and sometimes it’s a bit random, you’re never quite sure. It’s not an exact science because everything keeps shifting. But you do your best, and you just hope for the best. You can be killed walking on the street in London or New York, you know?

Do you think that you have become at all desensitized to danger?
I think with more experience you realize the precarious nature of working in dangerous places, and perhaps you’re a bit naïve at the beginning, and you don’t understand all the aspects or dimensions or possibilities of what you are dealing with. I don’t think you ever get used to it, or get comfortable with it. The way you deal with it may change, but I don’t think you ever become desensitized. It’s never routine. If you’re telling a story or reporting on a situation, you have to manage the work you send in and manage it in the best way possible. But no, I don’t think you ever get used to it. I think violence and war are always horrific.

Thanks, Steve.

Click through to see more photography by Steve McCurry.

Coal miner smoking a cigarette, Pol-e-Khomri, Afghanistan, 2002

Shaolin monks training, Zhengzhou, China, 2004

Havana, Cuba, 2010

Hamer Tribe, Omo Valley, Ethiopia

Boy in midflight, Jodhpur, India, 2007

Rajasthan, India, 2009

Stepwell and Birds, India

Woman reading in sunlight, Thailand, 2012

Previously – Christopher Anderson

I spent the majority of that summer on the farm—weeding, pruning, pollenating, and taking photographs. Every few days, I'd hitch a ride into town. There's no cell phone service, so to find your friends, you just walk into their house or, if they weren't there, you check the riverside or the bar. Some nights would be spent drinking moonshine or listening to a friend play the banjo while sitting on a shipwreck, or swimming in freezing rivers and lakes, or a combination of all of those things. You don't need electricity when the sun doesn't set, which during this time of the year, it never does. Running water isn't that much of a necessity when you're surrounded by rivers.

You've got something in common with every person you meet in the Yukon, because no one ends up there by accident. It's the legion of the lost. 

Suzanna Zak is a photographer currently living in Los Angeles. This work, titled Life Lived on Life, just opened at MICA in Baltimore and was created with a grant from the Meyer Traveling Photography Fellowship. The series investigates the way that fiction enters into our reality by examining the lasting influence of Jack London's Call of the Wild, both of which take place in the Yukon. Check out more of Suzanna's work here.

Due to the number of wells burning, it was impossible for one or even a few teams of firefighters to extinguish them in the necessary time to avert a global catastrophe. So, the Kuwaiti government called out for international aid. About 50 countries from across the globe responded to the call, including Britain, whose team I was a part of.
 
We arrived on February 28, 1991, and I can still recall the apocalyptic scene that greeted me outside my airplane window as we touched down in Kuwait. It was the middle of the afternoon, but the sky was so black it looked like midnight, and as we flew below the cloud level, the only thing you could see were 700 oil wells, all burning at the same time.

We were sent to work in northern oil fields, and the 30-mile drive from the airport to the camp was something I will never forget. As we passed Kuwait City, the images of devastation and human carnage were horrifying. Vehicles and bodies were strewn everywhere. Corpses were hanging out of cars on the roadside. Official figures count Kuwait's losses at around 10,000, but unofficially the numbers seemed closer to 100,000.

The camp where we stayed was situated just between the burning wells, so I had to endure plenty of sleepless nights as the fires roared and lit the sky, and the desert temperatures dropped drastically when the sun went down. As if that weren't enough, the camp was also surrounded by minefields. The empty burnt-out tanks and ordnance left by the fleeing troops littered the desert like beer bottles after a weekend music festival. When driving I would not dare leave the road.

By November all the fires were out, and the firefighting teams dwindled back to their respective homelands, richer for the experience in more ways than one. These pictures are from my first week on the job.

VICE: What was it like growing up in Florida?
Ben Kilpatrick: It wasn't bad. Made a lot of friends and had an awesome childhood. Being away from Florida lately has made me realize how crazy it is down there. Whenever I tell people where I’m from they always ask if it really is that bizarre of a place. I guess we are all over the news. People are eating other peoples faces.

While we are on the topic of cannibalism, what kind of crazy things have you seen go on down there?
I think I might have the worst memory known to man. The first thing that popped into my head was this lady chasing her five year old around the bus stop. She was beating him on the head with rolled up newspaper and yelling at the top of her lungs. That happens everywhere though. People are stupid.

How did you end up shooting photos?
I got into photography in high school. My mom bought me a little point and shoot the last week or so of my senior year so that I could document my last days there. I brought my camera everywhere.

How did that lead you to NYC and LA?
There was too much partying going on in Tallahassee, and I was over it. I wanted to be motivated. I was in New York the summer before I moved for a skateboard tour and fell in love. I honestly think about New York everyday. I was in a weird funk my first New York winter. Working crazy hours to afford to live there and no skating or photographing it. I had an internship at Skateboarder Magazine this past summer in California and decided it would be a good idea to move out here and dodge this year’s winter. California is pretty awesome. Lots of Burritos.

What are the main differences you have noticed between shooting in NYC and in LA?
I miss shooting on the way to work. Everyone is outside all of the time and there are tons of interesting things happening all day. I live in Long Beach now and everyone is hiding from me in their vehicles. I head to downtown LA every once in a while to try and search for the same vibe as NYC.

What type of things do you like to shoot outside of skating, and do you ever use your skateboard photography skills when shooting non-skating?
I like to think I do the opposite. I try and take my skills from other things I shoot and put that into skateboarding photography. I really enjoy balance in a photograph. I like to photograph people a lot too but I don't like for them to know. I don’t want to ruin the moment they’re in. I want to save it. I’ll follow someone for blocks until I see them in the scenario or light I want them in.

What advice do you have for all of the kids out there aspiring to be skateboard photographers?
Have fun and be aware of your surroundings and how interesting they are.

What's next for Ben Kilpatrick?
No real plans yet. Hopefully some work! Haha. I need to do some traveling.

Photos by Ben Kilpatrick and words by Taji Ameen.

@RedAlurk 

Photos by Vito Fun

Check out more of Vito's stuff on VICE here and follow him on Twitter @VitoFun.