After the Mexican Revolution that began in 1910, Álvarez Bravo’s career emerged during a creative renaissance that was a reaction to the resulting paradigm shift in the political environment. Alongside the major uprisings against then-Mexican president, Porfirio Díaz, brought forth by political revolutionaries, such as Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa, significant artists including Diego Rivera also came to prominence. Álvarez Bravo’s work, which evolved during this period, addressed what curators Laura Gonzáles Flores and Gerardo Mosquera identify as the country’s “gradual abandonment of rural life and traditional customs, the rise of a post-revolutionary culture with international influences, and the espousal of a modern culture related to the urban maelstrom.”

Perhaps the most noticeable part of Álvarez Bravo’s career is his breadth of approaches, coursing through modernism (like Edward Weston, his personal friend) with formalist photographs of abstract paper forms, before moving on to address recognizable motifs. People, things and objects—for example, a sheep fallen down against a sidewalk curb—are shown in real habitats, but captured in a perspective which elevate the purpose and meaning of the photograph, beyond that of pure documentation (like Eugène Atget).

Although considered to be a part of the Surrealist movement, Alvarez Bravo’s images aren’t exclusively Surrealist in its denotative meaning; his lens captured the uncanny and mythic qualities of things that tangibly existed, such as an optical store plastered with eye illustrations, as seen on Optical Parable (slide 10), that evoke the work of pure Surrealists.

Álvarez Bravo’s career is one which can be easily seen as a story of tireless work— full of laborious attempts and devout experimentation—leading to iconic masterpieces. As Gerardo Mosquera states in an essay inside the exhibition’s catalog: “while [Henri] Cartier-Bresson seized the “decisive moment,” Álvarez Bravo laid a trap for “decisive moments”—a statement which both captures not only Álvarez Bravo’s dedication to his practice, but his ability to compose and very purposefully create photographs saturated with poetic complexity.

Manuel Álvarez Bravo: A Photographer on the Watch is on view from Oct. 16 through Jan. 20 at Jeu de Paume in Paris. See more info here.

British-born Parr, whose photography career spans over 30 years, is known for his provocative documentary style by using cultural criticism through an exaggerated and humorous light. His analysis of how we live is not simply satire, as Parr offers his audience an approach to seeing which acts not to denounce, but to highlight (both aesthetically and thematically) patterns between people, the things we consume and the milieus in which we live.

The outcome of the museum’s commission offers a vivid, comedic and touching perspective on the diversity that lies in Atlanta. Parr covers a large body of subject matter in his findings, which ranges from the high and low—juxtaposing images from a gallery opening to an oddly lengthy corn dog on a stick. Parr’s images offer insight which would only be found through the lens of a meticulous and curious outsider.

Beyond the exhibition at the High Museum of Art, Italian publisher Contrasto released a book, Up and Down Peachtree: Photographs of Atlanta, and a documetary, Hot Spots: Martin Parr in the American South. The book, a meticulously edited and impeccably designed object in its own right, is printed without text beyond the book’s title and colophon—which, undeniably, is a testament to Parr’s talent for storytelling. The documentary is a 60-minute lens behind the lens where documentarian Neal Broffman followed Parr photographing around Atlanta. The documentary includes interviews with noted curators, writers, critics and photographers, and offers a look into at Parr’s real-life affable personality and interactions with his subjects. Below, Contrasto has given LightBox an exclusive clip on the documentary:

Martin Parr’s photographs are on view now through September 9, 2012, as part of Picturing the South: New Commissions from the High Museum of Art. Up and Down Peachtree and Hot Spots: Martin Parr in the American South are both available for purchase online.

What is real? What is unreal? In a world where reality and history can be recreated and manipulated to appear authentic in a photograph, it is imperative that we ask these questions. We, as a society inundated with visual culture, are trained to ponder the truth and meaning behind what we see—but what if a photograph was created to question reality? To question history? Stan Douglas creates images that catalyze critical analysis and force their viewers to revisit the scenes they depict. Douglas, in creating new images of scenes in history, ponders the truth within the medium of photography and the sociological issues that lie in the passages and stories illustrated in his photographs.

Based in Vancouver, Canada, Douglas approaches each image with epic, Hollywood-level production—tapping into his history as a maker of films and video. Demanding the most active viewer who questions, challenges and investigates all that he or she sees, each image is created to excruciating detail.

Linda Chinfen; Courtesy the artist

A production photograph depicting the lighting and building of the set of Abbott & Cordova, 7 August 1971, 2008.

Courtesy the artist

A 3-dimentional rendering Abbott & Cordova, 7 August 1971, 2008.

In producing Abbott & Cordova, 7 August 1971, 2008 (slide #4), Douglas built a set to recreate a scene of the actual intersection in Vancouver. The placement of the actors in the image was pre-envisioned in three-dimensional renderings to anticipate the actual photograph. Not one detail was left unnoticed—down to the products in the dressings of the windows and the scraps of paper that lie on the streets. The mural-sized image, which was composited from 50 different images from the same shoot, is one of four in his series Crowds & Riots. All the images in the series are large scale tableaux depicting vignettes from Vancouver’s history—reflecting on matters of the police, class and social order.

Gjon Mili / Time & Life Pictures / Getty Images

Multiple exposure stroboscopic shot of actress and dancer Betty Bruce doing a routine for Broadway show High Kickers

In his series, Midcentury Studio, Douglas took on the identity of a photojournalist working between 1945 to 1951 (a selection of this work is represented by slides #6 – #9 in the gallery above). Inspired by imagery from this time, Douglas created images that discuss the decisive moment in photography—as Henri Cartier-Bresson explained, the exact moment that the photographer makes the photograph by firing the shutter of the camera—that very moment which is creative. Unfolding on Cartier-Bresson’s expression, Douglas constructed and carefully created these scenes to capture this experience and illustrate the scrupulous amount of information and action that lies in each frame of a photograph. In Dancer II, 1950, 2010, Douglas created an image similar to one from our own archive shot by famed photographer Gjon Mili for LIFE Magazine.

In Douglas’s most recent series, Disco Angola, most recently shown at David Zwirner Gallery in New York City in April, he once again approaches the identity of a photojournalist. This time, he is one who travels between New York City and Angola in the 1970s. Each image in the series utilizes the nature of body language as insight into the historical moment—from the pensive waiting of the Portugese colonialist awaiting evcuation (Exodus, 1975, 2012), to the interracial-intercultural array of dancing people (Club Versailles, 1974, 2012), to the group of rebel fighters performing capoeira, the Brazilian martial art that originated in Angola (Capoeira, 1974, 2012). Disco, a source of escapism for New Yorkers from the nearly bankrupt city at the time, traces its roots to Africa. Connecting these two seemingly disparate places, separated by thousands of miles of ocean and cultural-political borders, Douglas traces subtle parallels between New York’s struggles and the emerging Angolan liberation fight for independence from Portugal—one which would ultimately lead to a decades-long civil war.

Douglas’s series Midcentury Studio is currently on view at Victoria Miro Gallery in London through May 26, 2012. More information about the Infinity Awards can be found here.

The exhibition, which is divided into six sections, examines the various subjects the artist approached during his life. Atget is primarily known for his images of the streets of Paris, romantic landscapes and images of storefronts (which inspired Surrealists such as Man Ray and Tristan Tsara, although Atget denied any ties to the movement)—but, in this show, MoMA includes a refreshing display of his rare photographs of people, which are equal in their formal rigor and topographical, objective approach.

Atget’s approach is paradoxically both intimate and anonymous; despite having photographed seemingly every inch of the streets of Paris, from whole buildings to window displays, Atget never photographed the Eiffel Tower. His sense of dedication to detail, found in his street photographs, extends into his images from the abandoned Parc de Sceaux, from March and June of 1925. During this time, Atget took vast images of the serene landscapes, all while taking dutiful notes of times of day of the photographs, revealing his highly proximate relationship with documentation.

Drawing inspiration from Atget’s vision of objectivity for his photographs, it is perhaps best for viewers to develop a more personal relationship with his work, undistracted by the perceptions of the outside world. The scenes captured in Atget’s images cannot be adequately illustrated with words—luckily for us, he took pictures instead.

Documents Pour Artistes is on display from Feb. 3 through April 9 at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.

Over the years, Casebere’s images have expanded and redefined to show his exploration of aesthetic technical challenges. “Photography resonates with me because it manipulates our perception of the world around us,” he says. “I am interested in photography as a means of persuasion, of propaganda and constructing histories. I am interested in how photography creates and reconstructs reality.”

Born in Lansing, Michigan in 1953, Casebere grew up during the era of television’s rise to becoming America’s prominent medium for creating images and manifesting visual culture. Referencing the sets of sitcoms of the 1950s and 1960s, Casebere’s early career focused on disseminating and questioning the domestic household and addressing the growing dysfunctions of the ideal American home. Though the scenes that he constructs and then photographs are often similar to the environment of his native Lansing, the images are not anecdotal. This absence of a personal narrative is a strategy Casebere still continues in his work today.

Among Casebere’s most well-known work are his images of the interiors of detainment cells and prisons, such as Prison Cell With Skylight, 1993. “I was thinking a lot about the Enlightenment era and the way that different cultural institutions were created in the late 18th and early 19th century. One of the developments was the prison,” he says. “I wanted to investigate innovations of the whole system…I was trying to critically look at the whole process of incarceration as cultural-historical phenomena.”

Color became more focal and the construction of sets more filled with detail in the work that follows the prison images. Casabere began capturing interior rooms beginning in the mid-90s, with images like Converging Hallways from Left, 1997. ”When I was working on prisons, I was really dealing with a subject that involved deprivation and denial,” he says. “When I moved to the interior spaces, they were less obviously models—they were more convincing. The images are printed quite large, and when viewing them in a gallery, they really become something one can walk into. There was confusion about what is real and what isn’t…There came a moment when I decided to break down the wall, visually— to do things with color, light and texture— literally, to break down the walls, the construction of the models.”

At times, Casebere’s work seems to be indicative of future events. Images that Casebere created from 2006 through 2007, seemed to almost foreshadow this year’s Arab Spring, addressing issues that were boiling in the Middle East for a long time. The images depict the Middle East from a place of brewing conflict, but also a place where people lead normal lives. “I was really trying to create a different impression entirely. Tripoli, 2007, the image that I photographed is actually a recreation of Tripoli in Lebanon,” he says. “Shortly after I made that image, there was a battle at a refugee camp, where the Lebanese army surrounded the village and drove them out.”

Casebere’s latest series of images, each work titled a numerical variation of Landscape with Houses (Dutchess County, NY), reveals his return to focusing on the domestic, a move influenced in part by the advent of the mortgage crisis. But this time around, the artist brought color and dramatic lighting into the work. “I was really working with the lights, recreating morning light, afternoon light, evening light, twilight, moonlight, all kinds of light to exhaust the possibilities and color,” he says. The latest image in the series, however, depicts the idyllic suburban houses with a catastrophic, albeit humorously cartoonish, fire burning in the background. “The fire is metaphoric of the sense of crisis of living in the home, the loss of the American dream,” Casebere says. “I emphasize and criticize [the fact] that we’re caught in a cyclical lifestyle that is destructive and self-destructive.”

Works 1975 – 2010, was published this month by Damiani and distributed by D.A.P.

Francesca Woodman / Courtesy George and Betty Woodman and Marian Goodman Gallery, New York

Many images, such as this self-portrait, entitled Untitled, Rome, 1977–78, have never been shown to the public previous to the exhibition.

Woodman’s career, a thing of prodigy, began at the age of 13. She was born in 1953 to artist parents, George and Betty Woodman, both independently accomplished. Woodman spent much of her early life in the Italian country side, which influenced the rustic, dilapidated settings of the self portraits she made in college at the Rhode Island School of Design. Being young was never a limitation to her image making, but rather, its driving and most provocative force. Upon graduation, Woodman left for New York to enter the city’s art world and delved into fashion photography, but her work never gained success or attention. This led her into an inescapable, deep depression, ultimately contributing to the decision to take her own life.

Though her career spanned less than a decade, Woodman was a prolific artist. Her work, in its most comprehensive collection to date, is on display at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art through Feb. 20. The exhibition features a full scope of Woodman’s work, from photographs and video to self-portraits and fashion work. Many of the images—which number around 160 in total—have never been seen by the public and draw from private collections from around the world as well as the collection of the Woodman family. Following its debut in San Francisco, the exhibition will travel to New York and be on view at the Guggenheim from March 16-June 13. An accompanying catalogue, published by DAP, includes essays and writings by the show’s curator, Corey Keller, among others.

Francesca Woodman is on display at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art through Feb. 20 and will open at New York’s Guggenheim museum Mar. 16.

For the first series, Watching Humans Watching, the Stockholm-based duo spent the last four years capturing the dynamic between humans and nature by taking an objective approach to their subjects, much like the way landscape photographers document wild animals. Lindergård and Holmström had no interaction with the people they photographed. Each picture explores man’s disconnected relationship with nature, as if there were a wall between them and the environment. The images show people standing back, distant from the land, with some viewing nature through binoculars.

The other series, SAGA, which was developed shortly after Watching Humans Watching, deviates from pure observation and explores the natural world as mythic, foreign place from a first-person perspective. Each picture captures the artists’ imagination of nature as make-believe wilderness, which they say was stirred by stories of the supernatural wild. “[The photographs] can be seen as small building stones: sets, scenes, props and characters from an unwritten story,” say Lindergård and Holmström. “A mood board for anyone creating a fairytale.”

Together, the projects seek to present a full exploration of the relationship between people and nature. While Watching Humans Watching aims to show the physical act of human observation, SAGA offers the artists’ perspective on what is it that humans actually see and imagine when they watch nature.

Watching Humans Watching and SAGA will also be published together in a book by Kehrer Verlag later this year.

“This year, my hope was to give an idea of the different ways photography is practiced today. I think all of the artists bring a unique background—where they are from, their training and their style,” Leers says. “That, in turn, makes each artist’s work unique and different than everything else.”

The annual New Photography show in New York City has launched the careers of many photographers while documenting major shifts in the practice, process and direction in which the medium is headed. Since its inception in 1985—minus a hiatus between 1998 to 2004 during renovations to the museum—each year’s exhibition is representative of the institution’s voice on prominent emerging work within the contemporary art photography world.

This year contains an international roster of six artists, with a diverse scope of practices. Zhang Dali sources original propaganda and print materials from Maoist-era China to analyze the meticulousness of the Chinese government’s censorship and practice of doctoring photographs. Moyra Davey integrates the postal service into her work, highlighting the rarity of analog practices in the digital age. Over the course of a decade, George Georgiou photographed Turkey’s paradigm shifts in politics and social structure—a result of increased Westernization in the country. Deana Lawson‘s large-scale environmental portraits explore the notions of intimacy, sexuality and community among African-Americans. Doug Rickard uses screenshots from Google street view to not only highlight the proliferation of photography on the web, but to raise discussion about poverty, race-equity and personal privacy. Rounding out the group is Viviane Sassen, who was born in Amsterdam but spent her childhood years in Kenya. Sassen explores her feelings of displacement and a lack of national identity in a series of surreal photographs of anonymous subjects.

Unlike shows in the past few years, this selected group of artists all address issues that reach beyond the art world and speak to a larger audience. “The engagement [outside of the art world] was something I was going for,” says Leers. “Having there be a connection between the artist and viewer was important. My hope is that the viewer, regardless of whether they can specifically relate to the ideas or moments, can understand the photographer’s connection with the work and therefore become interested.”

New Photography 2011 opens Wednesday, Sept. 28 and is on view until Jan. 16, 2012
at MoMA in New York City. 

Carucci has been a photographer since she was 15. Her images of private moments with her parents, her husband and her struggle with pain are simultaneously unsentimental and luminous. While Carucci is comfortable revealing her most private moments, the series, Born, which opened in New York this week, was something new. ”I was pointing my camera at the pregnancy because it took over me, it was the focus of those nine months. Of course, [I was] functioning, I was working, it was a very dramatic event. I felt very different than how I usually do.”

Born is the first chapter of Carucci’s chronicle of motherhood taking her through 2008 when her twins were toddlers. “In Eden and Emmanuelle the first month, you really get the tradition of what we’re used to seeing—motherhood as portrait, Madonna and child. You really see those beautiful magical moments where you cannot believe the connection and the physical warmth of the baby in your hands. On the other hand, you go through the difficult times—you’re tired, the constant need to breastfeed them. This I feel is less documented in photography and I am shocked by how those moments live side by side.”

Elinor Carucci—Sasha Wolf Gallery

Come over here and apologize!, 2010

Her relationship with her husband Eran has been central to her previous work (Closer and Crisis) so his near absence from Born is striking. He appears only in one image, Feeling me, 2004. “Like many women, motherhood really took over me,” she explains. “It was very much about me being a mother and [the] strong, unusual bond with the kids. Even though Eran really helped me—he’s a big part of my work technically and conceptually—I felt it was more about me and the kids, the three of us as one unit.”

Her children are now school age and Carucci continues to record their lives (an image from her more recent work on the right). “I am still photographing the kids, but it is in a different stage. Some of the images I am working on now have been shot outside. I moved outside because they’re moving away from me. I am following them into America.”

For the first time in New York, a solo show of Carucci’s Born is on view the Sasha Wolf Gallery through November 15. More of Elinor Carucci’s work can be viewed at her website, www.elinorcarucci.com.

LightBox spoke with Chaskielberg about the story behind his photographs—his inspiration, subjects, and process:

How did you come about photographing the region?
The first time I went to the Paraná Delta, I was eight years old. I went with my family to a vacation house near the port closest to the city, called Tigre. From the beginning, I was fascinated by the unusual vegetation and the brown color of the river. In 2007, I started visiting a friend who was living in the Delta and writing a script for a movie. The house was close to the Bajos del Temor [Shallows of Fear], an area of shallow water and islands that expand with the sediment that comes down the Paraná. At the time, I was experimenting with making images by moonlight. I decided to make these kinds of images in the Delta. I started by shooting landscapes of the islands, and very soon I got involved with my neighbors, the islanders.

What are your inspirations for the series?
Some writers have inspired me for this work. They describe the atmosphere of the Delta and the life in the islands. One writer is Haroldo Conti, in his book Sudeste, and another is the Uruguayan Felisberto Hernandez in Casa Inundada, and Horacio Quiroga who wrote about life in the jungle of northern Argentina. There are also influences from the music of the Mesopotamian region the Paraná River flows through, like the Chamamé, folk music with roots in the native Guaraníes, with German influence due to immigration. Another influence is a photographic book on the Paraná River by Argentinian photographer Roland Paiva; although his images are very different from mine, in his book, you can smell the river.

How do you come about choosing your subjects?
My everyday work consisted of sailing the rivers of the Delta on a motorboat. I met the islanders randomly, on piers and in general stores, sometimes sharing a glass of wine at a grocery store or getting gas at the fuel station. Some of them were my neighbors, and some were people recommended by other islanders. Once, while sailing down the Canal Five, I waved to an old man on the bank. In the Delta, everybody waves to each other. The way he waved his hand to say hello was very generous, and I knew he had a big heart. I stopped the boat, and we talked for hours. That is how I met José Castel. We agreed to have a dinner of island stew together the next day and take a photo in his kitchen.

How long do shoots usually take? And how long does it take to produce a single image?
The exposures usually take five to ten minutes, and the shoot for one scene usually takes about four hours. I work using the full moon as a key element in my composition and lighting. Therefore, the window for doing the shoots is only about three clear nights. During the rest of the month, I work on planning and pre‐visualizing the images, sailing, following the islanders in their daily work and setting up the night for the shoot with them. The way of producing these images is completely different from what I was used to: sometimes, it takes months to gain confidence with the people before shooting an image. It wouldn’t be the same if I hadn’t moved to the islands for two years.

What are the tools you use to make the images—props, cameras, lights?
I photograph with a Sinar Norma 4×5″ large format camera with positive film. I use different flashlights, some incandescent and some LED‐lights with different white balances, to illuminate the images. I also make my own lights with bamboo canes and compact flashes.

Do you have favorite images in the series?
One of my favorite images is The Paraguayans, because it is the first photograph that the subject had of himself. It was a difficult shoot and one of the first ones with an islander. The night of the shoot was really cold, and I was nervous. The moon wasn’t in the right position for the composition I had planned, so we watched a soccer match on an old TV, waiting for hours until the moon was completely perpendicular to the earth. Another interesting image is The Three Steps. I wanted to shoot a low metal barge loaded with willows. As I got the shot ready, Ramón, the night watchman, and I shared wine mixed with lemon soda. He told me that he was originally from Gualeguaychú, and that he had come to the islands after serving time for manslaughter. ‘He was a bad guy,’ he told me. ‘He stole my tools, and one afternoon found both of us armed. He had been drinking and fired two shots at my house. I came out holding my deer‐hunting rifle, and, thanks to my bad luck, my shot got him in the chest’. After six years in jail, he arrived in the islands and adopted Pepino, a rooster who follows him everywhere he goes. Ramón carried on talking, and everything seemed to be at a standstill. It was midnight. I turned my camera around and asked if I could take a shot of them together.

How have the images been received by the subjects?
They usually like the images, but I feel they don’t have much interest in looking at photographs. I think they appreciate the images merely as records of their lives. They are used to seeing amazing colors and landscapes in everyday life, and they express more interest in me as photographer than in the images themselves. One of the islanders I photographed is Don Segundo, who is seventy years old. He lives alone in the woods, in a small hut made of poplar logs. He emigrated from Chile when he was very young, because he found the pain intolerable after his mother abandoned him to the care of his father. Since he left Chile, he has had no contact with his family. Don Segundo is an otter hunter, and his only belongings are twelve rusty traps and a yerba mate set. He is a believer; he speaks slowly and nods his head in silence. When we met the first time, he said, ‘I am proud to have made the acquaintance of a photographer.’

The High Tide opens at New York’s Yossi Milo Gallery on June 9th and will run through July 29th. Additional work by Chaskielberg from Leong’s projects can be found on his website. Chaskielberg is releasing a book soon entitled La Creciente, published by Nazraeli Press.

Anton Hammerl —AP

Journalists go where the news is; and for war journalists, that means going to where the fighting is taking place. In late March and April, the frontline in the Libyan war was settling in the oil port of Brega. And so that’s where the South African photojournalist Anton Hammerl headed, along with two reporters and another photographer.

Traveling in disputed territory near Brega with rebel fighters, Hammerl and the journalists suddenly found themselves alone and facing gunfire from Gaddafi loyalists barreling forward in two armored trucks. GlobalPost’s James Foley, one of the reporters in the incident, said he called out amid the barrages asking if Hammerl was ok. The answer was “No” and then there was silence.

Gaddafi’s men took Foley and the other two journalists into custody. That was on April 5. For the next seven weeks, the Libyan regime indicated that all four were alive. Only after Foley and his two fellow detainees were released and reached Tunisia on May 19 did they confirm that their last image of Hammerl was of his body, shot through the abdomen, lying in the desert. Hammerl took this photo on April 3, two days before his death. It shows rebels celebrating their recapture of Brega. They lost control of it soon after. The city is still held by Gaddafi.

—by Howard Chua-Eoan; Produced by Alexander Ho

Ai works across many mediums, including sculpture, performance, and photography—perhaps as a device to reach a larger audience—thus, garnering activism throughout the art world.

Courtesy Mary Boone Gallery

From Left: Study of Perspective (Eiffel Tower); Study of Perspective (Tiananmen); Study of Perspective (White House), 1995 - 2003

Study of Perspective is a series of images, shot from 1995 to 2003, showing the artist flipping the middle finger against different places across the globe—many of which are iconic landmarks of their respective countries. The gesture, captured utilizing a snapshot aesthetic, confronts its viewer with a universal and concise statement of political opposition.

Ai Weiwei/Twitpic

Images from Ai's Twitpic account chronicling his hospital stay after a brain hemorrhage in September 2009.

His photography, in particular, has taken form not only within the confines of a museum, but also on his Twitpic account, where he captured images of himself in the hospital while recovering from brain surgery to correct a cerebral hemorrhage in September 2009. The hemorrhage believed to be the result of a brutal police beating in August of the same year. The images act to document the extent in which the Chinese government will take to eliminate dissidents.

Most recently, Ai was detained by the Chinese governent for “economic crimes” and has yet to be released. This detention follows an incident earlier this year in January, in which Ai’s studio was demolished by order of the Chinese government.

For more news on the artist read the latest story on TIME’s Global Spin.

See the 2011 TIME 100.

Pressley cautions that mixing portraits and landscape as Dezso does in the series might not ordinarily work, but his unique style and mood, along with his choice of color, bring it together. “The images are layered, rich and thick with detail,” she explains. “They make you want to slow down—that’s what an award-making picture makes you want to do.”

Tamas Dezso’s work will be on view at the New Mexico Museum of Art in Santa Fe from May 20 until July 10, 2011.

For more of Dezso’s work, visit his website: www.tamas-dezso.com

—Reporting by Deirdre van Dyk, Produced by Alexander Ho

In light of the recent events that have have deeply affected Japan, Hasted Kraeutler Gallery will donate 5% of the profits for every print sold until May 14 to the American Red Cross Japan and Pacific Tsunami Relief Effort, as well as all the profits from a special edition of Untitled (Cherry Blossoms), 2010, which sells for $300.

Gefeller’s The Japan Series is on display at New York’s Hasted Kraeutler Gallery from March 31 through May 14, with an opening reception March 31 from 6 to 8 p.m. Further details about the show are available at hastedkraeutler.com. It will also be published as a monograph by Hatje Cantz in April.

Additional images from Gefeller’s work can be found at andreasgefeller.com.

As a collective series of photographs, they comprehensibly display how humanity has developed. But when each image is viewed individually, the photographs foil the socio-historical parallels and contrasts between different cities, offering a detailed observation of the world and revealing how each photograph distinguishes and differentiates each city’s complex structure of inhabitation.

Cities is on display at New York’s Yossi Milo Gallery from Feb. 17 through April 2. Further details are available at www.yossimilo.com. Additional images from Leong’s projects can be found on his website, www.szetsungleong.com.

After being inspired by photographing a struggling small town in Ohio, Epstein embarked on a five-year, 25-state project to capture how fossil fuel production affected people’s lives and their ecosystem.

“I photographed a consumerist society inured to the consequences of unbridled consumption,” Epstein said in a statement. “Many living in the shadows of power plants despaired their polluted water and air, but did not have the economic resources to relocate. Growth no longer meant progress, but self-destruction.”

Epstein not only captured the effects of the U.S.’s decades-old reliance on coal and oil, but also photographed a new generation of cleaner technologies – including wind, biotech and solar – to show, in Epstein’s words, “that a healthier, more economical and compassionate way of life is possible.”

Additional information on the Prix Pictet Photography prize, as well as artists shortlisted for this year, can be found on www.prixpictet.com. American Power has been released as a monograph, published by Steidl. Epstein’s work can be accessed at his website at www.mitchepstein.net.