OMD! 

Recently I had the chance to go to the Olympus Photography Playground in Berlin. Imagine three stories of a derelict looking warehouse, replete with rooms full of lasers, ginormous spider nets, cardboard tunnels and UV light and you’ll be getting close to what it was like. There was also this weird bubble-turret type thing, filled with various kinds of moulds and furs. We were told by a couple of Berliners that it was a famous experiment, not only did I feel ill, I felt ill-informed. :(

Upon entry you get given a lovely Olympus OM-D EM-5 to roam around with, and you get to take home all your pictures on a 4GB SD card. And it’s all free. Free, free, free.

Anyway - here are a few of my shots from what was a really fun afternoon. Such a great way to market a camera. 

Tearsheets from Laura Ellen Bacon’s book ‘Forms of Intrigue and Woven Spaces’. 

The work will be on display at the Saatchi Gallery from the 10-13th May during Collect - the International Art Fair for Contemporary Objects.

collect2013.org.uk

Thanks Laura!

Miri Hersh

Drafting projects: After War / Stand at Ease

I’ve not made public many of the images from any of my South Sudanese projects yet. Sometimes there’s this desire to make sure that the work is completely ‘perfect’ before you show it to the world, but that isn’t particularly helpful when you’re trying to get things done. And I think that one of the great things about the internet is how it can act as a drafting/collaborative tool. 

With that in mind, and to help get me started, here are a few images from a series that has the working title ‘after war’. It features children playing in a nursery in Yei, a town with about 50,000 children and very few dedicated areas for ‘play’. I have a few friends who are play therapists and in my own work I’ve often found that play is far more important, multifaceted and complex than it’s often given credit for.

I had the pleasure of seeing these nursery children ‘graduate’ in an almost day-long ceremony, complete with marching band and a parade through the town. I ended up driving around twenty of them to the main square - which prompted me to write a little reflection about that particular moment which you can read below. 

Stand at ease

As I arrive early on the morning of the graduation, instead of the usual rush of excited children demanding photos, I am greeted by neat rows and columns of determined-looking pupils robed in gowns and miniature mortar boards. In preparation for their triumphant march from Freedom Square back to the nursery, they are striding and strutting on the spot, proudly intoning their school chants in impressively unified high-pitched harmony.

The minibus arrives reasonably promptly to transfer the children to the square where the procession will begin. However, it soon becomes clear that there are far too many students for the bus. One of the teachers solemnly takes me aside and asks if I might transport some of the children in the Land Cruiser I have arrived in. I look over at the aging four-by-four and tentatively say yes, “I think there’s room for about 10, at a push”. I climb into the driving seat and peer round just in time to see a teacher squeeze one last child into the back of the truck before repeatedly slamming the reluctant door. Behind me, sitting, squatting and teetering are twenty-two wide-eyed faces peering out from underneath felt scholars’ hats. It must look as if I have kidnapped a pack of extras from a Nollywood Harry Potter remake.

Panicked about the safety and legality of ferrying this quantity of pre-schoolers, I drive at a snail’s pace towards the centre of town. The surreal quality of this journey is both intensified and fractured by the piercing singing that continues inside the vehicle, encouraged by the indefatigable member of staff perched next to me. I find myself beaming uncontrollably at the marvellous nature of the situation, as it is, only slightly marred by the ear-shattering noise levels as the choir reach new vocal heights inside the reverberating metal box, now thundering over numerous potholes.

Buoyant and only slightly dishevelled by the dilapidated shock absorbers’ ineffectualness, the graduands stream out onto the square and promptly resume formation. Shortly, the leader of the only brass band in the town paces over to the nursery squad. Wearing a bright, primary-red and yellow tasselled jacket, this carnivalesque military figure prowls around the group, brusque and stern, examining their uniforms, their posture, their sobriety.

“Attention!” He bellows. A pause. Feet stamp, backs stiffen, chins rigidly facing forward. “Stand at ease!” The little scholar-soldiers shuffle-slump back in compliance. “Attention!” It has been almost eight years since the ceasefire was declared and the peace agreements signed between the warring Sudans. “Stand at ease!” Yet militarisation still pervades the peace of South Sudan’s sapling civil society. “Attention!” The children noiselessly and efficiently conform to the authority, grave and focused. “Stand at ease!” It is visible in the armed and uniformed, in the silent scars of violence in the hobbling un-uniformed. “Attention.” It sounds out in the stamp and scrape of the Scout groups’ feet as they practice marching. “Stand at ease.” But there is also a determination to return to normality; to trade, to build and rebuild, to rear animals and work the land, to make things better.

Attention.

Stand at ease.

In this new country, that has known only war for almost half a century, beneath the forward-looking, the everyday and the humdrum, there is a tense alertness, and even ease is given as a command.

VICTORY!!! 

Full low-down here: http://lukeleighfield.tumblr.com/post/48772385684/london-marathon-thank-you-on-sunday-after

The fundraising total was reached on the day. Well done everyone!!! 

Those who missed out can still help here —> justgiving.com/lukerunfield

lukeleighfield:

Why I’m running the London Marathon

When my brother called me up last autumn, I didn’t expect him to ask me whether I fancied running the London Marathon with him. I’m not aware that Steve has previously done any sport. He’s definitely not A Sportsman. So it was something of a surprise. Anyway, I don’t get to see my brother enough and I’d always fancied the idea of running a marathon (just not quite so soon) so I said, “why yes, I’d love to run a marathon with you.”

Roll on February 2013. I came back from a trip to a very warm South Sudan, landing in a very very very cold, icy, snowy Berlin. Like, rly cold. And for the past two and a half months I’ve been running in Berlin’s ice and snow at ungodly hours in an effort to get my weedy body to a point where it’s able to run 26.2 miles without me collapsing and dying. I bought shiny silver shoes and fluorescent yellow shoes, saw loads of statues and more snow than I’ve ever seen before in my life, tried to eat a bit healthier, and sampled mid-run doughnuts with my “trainer,” Monal.

It’s definitely been less than fun on some occasions, and getting up at 6am three times a week to go for runs in a temperature where, upon your return, your hands are too cold to operate the key to get in to your house, and other parts of your body are so cold that you can’t find them anymore, but there have been upsides, too. I’ve had the time to listen to countless episodes of This American Life and Ira has soothed my pain with his gentle storytelling. I’ve been able to wear tights without anyone laughing at me. And there’ve been some glorious moments where I’ve been running in a beautiful landscape, completely alone, with anthemic pop-rock blasting in my headphones, and it’s been nothing short of a magical connection with nature, and has felt like a total privilege. I think I’ve finally fostered a love of running that will never leave me.

And that’s all well and good. But the real reason I’m running the marathon is to raise money for Christian Aid. I don’t believe in a world where some people have an excess of food to eat and others have nothing. I don’t believe in a world where some people get an education, and others remain uneducated, unable to lift themselves from poverty. And I don’t believe in a world where people are dying from poverty-related diseases like malaria and HIV. Christian Aid’s vision is to see an end to poverty, by working globally to eradicate the causes of it, and it’s a vision that I share. 

I’m currently at 57% of my fundraising target with one week to go ‘til the big day, and if you can spare some money to help me get closer to my goal, no matter how little, I would be very grateful. In return, I’ll be sure to post lots of horrible sweaty photos here for your enjoyment in a week’s time.

Please dig deep and make a donation here: justgiving.com/lukerunfield. Thanks for reading.

My best friend Luke looks like he wants to do you damage here, but he’s mostly a softy and could R3@77Y do with your help right now. 

I went ‘training’ with him last week, dipped out after 7.5 miles and couldn’t feel anything but searing knee pain for the following 6 days. And that was in relatively nice weather. I am bowled over by the determination of someone who decides to go running, repeatedly, on ice before most of Berlin (or any other city in the right timezone) has woken up. He (and the rest of you) is/are complete maniacs.

If you could spare him a pound/euro/dollar/150 yen or two, then we could internet-propel him to achieving his target.

So, not that you need another incentive, but: I will be at the race to cheer him on and if we manage to get him to the £2000 mark or beyond I will promise you two things:

«< ONE »> A mostly full length portrait of Luke post-run, probably looking sad/happy. 

«< TWO »> A macro photograph of some face sweat. 

hang on… if you really want, I could offer one of those shots as a print for someone who tweets about donating and/or encouraging others to empty their pockets for his run using the hashtag #lukerunfield. I don’t know how I’ll pick the winner yet, but let that mystery tempt you to twitter fundraising greatness.

I realise that probably won’t appeal to most, but having that up on your wall will give any room the pep you always thought it needed. 

So, 

go on

justgiving.com/lukerunfield

go on

justgiving.com/lukerunfield

go on

justgiving.com/lukerunfield

go on

justgiving.com/lukerunfield

go on

justgiving.com/lukerunfield

go on

Oh, and supersorry for asking for money. 

bookstacks:

martinaboone:

The Shapes of Stories by Kurt Vonnegut via Kami Garcia

Pick up the books of Mr. Vonnegut from the library! Click here! 

This is fun. 

(via juliakaganskiy)

My friend Matt runs a clothing label called The Greatest of These and when a new blue version of their faith, hope, love tee got made up, we went out and took some pictures. 

Since my project in Northern Portugal, I’ve fallen head over heels with multiple exposures. I prefer to shoot it all in camera, getting the dark art of it right first time, rather than poring over suitable frames and blends in the dispassionate and clinical halls of the photoshop. Getting it wrong, sometimes means getting it right. Right?

Feat. mega models @mattwivz and @onechloelouise.