Jessica Backhaus was born in Cuxhaven, Germany, in 1970 and grew up in an artistic family. At the age of sixteen, she moved to Paris, where she later studied photography and visual communications, and where she met Gisèle Freund in 1992, who became her mentor. In 1995 her passion for photography drew her to New York, where she assisted photographers, pursued her own projects and lived until 2009.

Regarded as one of the most distinguished voices in contemporary photography in Germany today, Jessica Backhaus has shown her work in numerous solo and group exhibitions, published different books and is featured in numerous prominent art collections. Presented here is a series of images from her project “Jesus and the Cherries”, published in 2005, documenting everyday life in the Polish province of Pomosrskie, where the artists has spent a total of three and a half years portraying the residents of Netno town.

She shows people in their apartments, at work, and in the untouched Polish landscape. With a sure eye and an unusual colour language, she points out important but easily overlooked details: plastic flowers and crocheted pillowcases, images of saints and lace doilies, and cherries preserved in mason jars. The pictures are neither intrusive nor tactless; she encounters people with dignity and full of admiration for the way of life of Poland’s rural population. The intimate character of the photos suggests a special relationship to the subject: we feel the warmth, cordiality, and authenticity with which Backhaus was received in Poland. Jessica Backhaus thus tells a tale of traditional ways of life that may already belong to the past.

Marie Rime is a young Swiss photographer (class of 1989), studying at the Ecole Cantonale d’Art de Lausanne (ECAL). This year, her work was shown at Hyères Photography Festival, where she won the Public Prize for her two projects: Armures and Pharma, characterized by high-colored geometries and strict compositions.

Armures is a series about women dressed in costumes fashioned from everyday objects. These portraits are the starting point of a reflexion about the relationship between power, war and ornament. These women lose their identity and become a support for their clothing. In Pharma, Rime questions an industry which is very much talked about in Switzerland: the pharmaceutical industry. Here, she zoomes in pharmaceutics packagings, that she chooses to photograph against a colored background, for a result which recalls minimalist painting, questioning the notion of a too-obvious beauty.

Her work has been exhibited in 2013 as part of the ECAL photography show at Galerie Azzedine Alaïa, Paris and Galleria Carla Sozzani, Milano as well as in the context of the prize Vfg Nachwuchsfördepreis at Galerie Oslo 8, Basel, Switzerland.

How, when and why did you decide to work in photography?
I started taking photos when I was 12 years old, I had a small Instamatic camera that my parents gave me. Ten years later I went to a photography school in Milan.

What are your influences, do you feel particularly related to any photographer?
I don’t know. My early influences include Robert Mapplethorpe, Diane Arbus, Walker Evans, Helmut Newton, while later I became interested in the photographic work of Ed Ruscha, Richard Prince, Cy Twombly, Andreï Tarkovsky.

How do you approach your work and how and why do you choose your subjects?
The final work goes through observation, really looking at things, which can simply take a few moments. Only the mind can transform something into a photograph. If photography was only a mechanical process, all photos would be the same. But, in fact, the different psychological charges come with our different psychological comprehension, and if there is no comprehension, we only have an excess of images. If you think about Instagram, for instance, you can see how people don’t know how to look. The subject I choose could comes simply from the everyday life experience, even though I’m particularly interested in the trilogy of life, sex and death.

What do you aim to communicate through your work?
Nothing. The viewer can make his own decision on the meaning of my work.

Tell us more about your Tennis Courts project, how did you start it and why is it so important for you?
I started the project years ago by taking a photo of an abandoned tennis court in the south of Switzerland, close to the place where I grew-up. I’m always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods, ect. I would like to quote the French writer Marguerite Duras: les tennis on les regarde beaucoup, même quand ils sont déserts, quand il pleut…Il y aurait à dire sur les tennis qui sont regardés. There’s something about an abandoned-looking place that makes it look like it has a life of its own. I really like it.

What would be your dream project to work on?
Filming relieves my conscience. I just finished my first short film based on a Bukowski novel I read last year. I would like to work on a feature film soon.

Unanimously recognized as one of the most brilliant photographers of our time, Gregory Crewdson (b.1962, New York) is often compared to other renowned American artists working in different fields (among which Stanley Kubrick, David Lynch and Edward Hopper) for his obsessive control of the composition – every single element of the frame is accurately selected – and the ability to portrait American suburban every day life through an unnerving, visionary hyperrealism.

The juxtaposition between a certain kind of cinema and Crewdson’s photographs is not a mere coincidence; indeed, the creation of his images is a long process, which involves a solitary and slow location scouting – the most important part of the entire process – and a regular cinematographic troupe that painstakingly builds the wanted set and light to get the perfect shot. Each picture is a frozen and mute slice of life, mid-way between reality and fiction, beauty and decadence. They are fixed but incomplete moments, without before and after, that allow viewers to get drawn into the scene, projecting their experiences and free interpretation to generate personal narratives.

The stages offer rarefied atmospheres where everything is perfectly contextualized – nothing has been left to chance – and seems to be definitely real, but filtered through artificial, dreamlike and surreal lights, which give a pictorial aspect to the works. Crewdson depicts deserted streets, supermarkets with neon signs during twilight and dawn, parked or overturned cars in the boulevards, motel beds and private living rooms inhabited by puzzling characters, lost in thought and leading a very solitary existence. They are stills from the world of unconscious ghosts that remind us of Short Cuts by Altman rather than the incomparable Raymond Carver’s Cathedral novels.

But beyond this type of work, which is undoubtedly Crewdson’s most widely known, we cannot avoid mentioning a special series of photographs made by the artist during the summer of 1996 in rural Massachusetts, entitled Fireflies: 61 black and white introspective photographs showing the magic fleeting light of the nocturnal creatures in a simple, poetic and direct way. Wave Hill in New York is now giving the wider audience a rare opportunity to see, for the first time ever, the complete collection of amazing images in a special exhibition which will run until 24th of August 2014. Do not miss it if you are around!

The Japanese artist and photographer Hiroshi Sugimoto made his first architectural work for Le Stanze del Vetro on San Giorgio Maggiore island in Venice that opened on June 6. Known throughout the world for his photographic works in black and white, Sugimoto for the first time in Venice designing a structure after opening his architectural firm just few years ago.

“Glass Tea House Mondrian” is inspired by the tradition of the Japanese tea ceremony, as it was reformed by the master Sen no Rikyu. The pavilion consists of two main components, one outdoor and one indoor. The uncovered structure (about 40 meters long and 12.5 meters wide) winds through a path that includes a long pool of water, which leads the visitor into a glass cube (2.5 x 2, 5 meters), where on a regular basis, there a Japanese tea ceremony will be held. The glass cube welcomes, together with the master of ceremony, two visitors at a time, while the public may attend and take part in the ceremony gathering at the sides of the glass cube. The tools that will be used for the tea ceremony were all designed by Hiroshi Sugimoto and produced by artisans in Murano.

The flexible structure of the pavilion and its temporary nature, will also transform the garden where it was built, so far unused, in a versatile space, able to accommodate meetings and debates, and encourage visitors to freely determine their own experience with the pavilion. The innovation of “Glass Tea House Mondrian” lies in its ability to suggest a space for exhibiting and experiencing architecture, where the pavilion itself becomes exposure – innovation to which is added the autonomy of the artist to propose a theme and a project free from restrictions, but rather open to the possibility of experimenting with shapes, place, building technologies and materials.

The external structure is built entirely of cedar wood from Japan, and realized by Sumitomo Forestry Co. Ltd. Chosen by Hiroshi Sugimoto for their efforts in contributing to the reconstruction of the areas devastated by the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami of 2011 and instrumental in the construction of “Glass Tea House Mondrian” and the external enclosure, which is inspired by the Shrine of Ise. In the frame of the Island of San Giorgio Maggiore, the “Glass Tea House Mondrian” also acquires a symbolic value by encouraging the visitor to interact freely with the place, and also requiring you to find the right balance between personal and artifice architectural and the natural environment that surrounds it.

“Glass Tea House Mondrian” builds a strong dialogue between interior and exterior, nature and artifice, closed and open, light and heavy, water and land, a relationship that results in the use of timber from Japan – for the external path – , mosaic – for the hot water – and glass – for the deputy to the experience of Japanese tradition.

How, when and why did you decide to work as a photographer?
I always liked photography, I remember asking for a roll of black and white film for my 11th birthday and then making my poor younger brother dress up and pose in a field for me. But I never really considered it as a career. I went to University to study Graphic Design, but I wasn’t enjoying it that much. I did one module in photography and just loved the class and the tutors so switched to photography and I guess from then on just followed what everyone else was doing.

How you would describe your work and what early influences you think you had?
I find it really hard to describe my work. That’s one of the reasons I take photographs, so that I don’t have to describe in words what I’m seeing. Early influences..? Dan Eldon, Steffi Jung – a great friend and photographer I studied with, a book about Derek Jarman’s garden, Hannah Starkey and Tom Hunter.

How do you approach your work – how and why do you choose your subjects?
I think my approach is based on creating a personal bond with the person I photograph. I like spending time with people, talking to people, being in their homes, I spend a long time not even taking photos (in fact sometimes I even forget that’s what I’m there for). When I have a slight bond with a person, and if that person is interested in having their photo taken by me, I think that is when I ‘choose’ a subject. And generally if someone is open to talking to me then I’m drawn to take their photograph.

What do you aim to communicate through your work?
It changes with every project so it’s difficult to put it down to a single aim. I usually concentrate on the personal experiences of individuals to humanise a wider and more intangible, political or social subject.

What kind of projects you would be interested in working on next?
If it means meeting new groups of people or traveling to somewhere new I’m interested in working on it! I’m working on a number of different personal projects at the moment. One is about the English/Scottish border. I’ve been doing a series of road trips with a writer looking at the culture of the people living in the area. The Scottish referendum is in September and we wanted to look at people on the English side of the border (who don’t get to vote) looking at how the possible independence in Scotland would affect their life.

We went to mc2gallery to see the new exhibition of Michael Ackerman (b. 1967, Tel Aviv, Israel. Lives and works in Berlin and New York.) and ask him something about his life and work.

Could you tell us something about your personal story? When did you decide to become a photographer? How and why did this happen?
At university, at age 18 I joined a student photography organization and learned the basics from older students. I was immediately obsessed and unable to focus on my studies. In class I didn’t pay attention, I just waited for it to be over so I could go out to take pictures. I regret that now, but I was too young and immature to learn at that age. Photography ignited my curiosity about the world.

How do you describe your work? What type of camera do you use and how much does the media and printing process influence the final result?
I don’t like to describe my work but I guess it could be summed up as personal documentary. It comes from real life but it’s absolutely subjective. I use small, easy cameras. The printing is crucial and I work very hard on it. I still love to be in the dark room even if it’s lonely and so much of the time I don’t obtain the result I want.

Did/do you have any source of inspiration? Which one?
The same as everyone else. Being alive and being aware of death.

How do you get to a book project? Could you tell us something regarding your previous publications (“End Time City” and “Half Life”), how do these projects come about?
“End Time City” was made after several trips to India between 1993 to 1997. I had a box of prints, I don’t know how many. Through many lucky circumstances I was introduced to Christian Caujolle who pushed to have my work shown and still does. And I met Robert Delpire who agreed to publish the book. And the other ones when I thought they were ready. But it started when a good friend moved from New York to Milan and was showing people my work. He got me my first exhibition in Europe and then one thing led to another.

What do you usually do when you are not working?
Cooking, laundry, cleaning, playing with my kid.

It seems that you are a hard traveller. What are your favorite places in the world and why?
I’m not a traveller. But I feel rootless and homeless. I don’t have a favorite place in the world but I have favorite places in different cities I go to. A small bar in Paris, the Jewish cemetery in Warsaw, the streets of Naples. Things like that.

What do you see in your future? Is there any project that you look forward to undertake?
I’m trying to do some things I haven’t done before. Little film portraits of friends. And finishing some old work. But I am very slow and not good at imagining the future.

MIA – Milan Image Art Fair, the three-day Milanese event dedicated to photography, just closed its 4th edition with flying colors. The fair, which immediately made a name for itself thanks to the competence of its founder, Fabio Castelli, its scientific committee and its original formula: “one stand to each artist, to each artist its own catalogue” (this year the catalogue is in e-book format), once again reached a successful conclusion in our country and is ready to land for the first time in Singapore from 24th to 26th October 2014. But before leaving for Asia, let’s stock on this experience stressing its highs and lows.

We pinpointed some stands among the 180 international exhibitors – galleries, independent photographers, printers and publishers – which really caught our attention, and also some weak points that left us a little bit disappointed. Walking the numerous corridors of Superstudio Più’s huge building, we could not avoid stopping at the space hosting “Tempo ritrovato – Fotografie da non perdere”, a special prize devoted to private, and most of the time unknown, historical archives. The award this year went to the gems of Tranquillo Casiraghi’s archive (Sesto San Giovanni, Milan, 1923-2005), depicting charming people and landscapes from the genuine northern province.

The shots by the master Luigi Ghirri on view at Photographica FineArt were, as usual, beautiful and full of poetry as well the ones by the incomparable Francesca Woodman at Galerie Clara Maria Sels and Mario Giacomelli with his stark contrasts and well rendered grain displayed by Artistocratic.

The photos by Charlotte Perriand at ADMIRA were undoubtedly striking, but putting aside the fascination for the past and getting back to the world of still living photographers we were captivated by the delicate colors and strong narrative power of the work by Giovanni Chiaramonte on view at Valeria Bella gallery and the mystery and hypnotism of Michele Zaza at Six Gallery. Podbielski Contemporary, mc2gallery and Galleria Continua deserve a special mention: the first one for its stunning pictures by Francesco Jodice, the second one for the project “Etna” by the young and talented photographer Renato D’Agostin and the third one for presenting the work of the outstanding Belgian visual artist Hans Op de Beeck, maybe the most international touch of the whole fair.

Closing the tour with the exhibition “Verso l’oriente” (with shots by Philip-Lorca diCorcia, Thomas Struth, Nobuyoshi Araki, Yamasuma Morimura, Naoya Hatakeyama, Daido Moriyama and Toshio Shibata) that winks at the upcoming edition in Singapore, we have one short consideration: MIA is certainly one the best proposals related to photography offered by the Italian art system, but to reach its full accomplishment, it would need to complete its domestic peculiarity with a more significant international impulse. Let’s wait for the next edition.

Andrew Miksys is a US photographer from Seattle, who has decided to discover his Lithuanian roots through a series of bold and raw photographs, published last year in a book titled “Disko”. In the last few years, Andrew has shown his work at Seattle Art Museum, Vilnius Contemporary Art Centre and De Appel Contemporary Arts Centre, as well as worked with publications like The New Yorker, Harper’s or VICE. We met Andrew to discuss his work, past and future projects, inspiration and ideas.

How, when and why have you decided to work as a photographer?
I had an interest in photography from an early age. My father, who was a very good amateur photographer, probably influenced me a lot. He was constantly photographing when I was a kid with his Nikon F camera. We had his photographs all over our house. My favorite photograph was an image of Elvis he took backstage at a concert in Seattle in 1973. Later I studied photography with Jerome Liebling, a great documentary photographer who was part of the NY Photo League in the 40s and 50s. Jerome was a great mentor and helped me find my own voice and how to investigate subjects from every angle.

How you would describe your work and what early influences you think you had?
I photograph to satisfy my own curiosity. When I found the village discos, gypsies in Lithuania or bingo halls in the US, I basically just wanted to see what they were all about and show people the unique things I’ve found. My work isn’t exactly autobiographical, but I think you can see some of the process in my photography and the experiences I had. If you look at the “Disko” portraits, there is tension between the people I’m photographing and me. We’re trying to figure each other out. But I also have an interest in the places I’m photographing and their history. Village discos aren’t just village discos. All the places I photographed in were Soviet-era cultural centers and reflect the complicated and even tragic history of the 20th century in Lithuania. It’s important to me that some of this context comes through in the project even if I don’t reference it directly.

Could you tell us more about the book “Disko”, what inspired you to work on this subject?
I first went to Lithuania in 1995 to visit some of my relatives there. My father and grandparents were from Lithuania, but left at the end of WWII and immigrated to the US. This was the first chance I had to meet my Lithuanian relatives since the fall of the USSR. I hadn’t thought much about photographing in Lithuania, but as soon as I got there I knew I wanted to come back and photograph more. It was so different from where I grew up in Seattle and the remnants of the Soviet Union were everywhere. In 1998 I got a Fulbright scholarship and spent a year in Lithuania. One weekend I was in a village and followed some kids into a disco. It was an incredible space with a disco ball and a Lenin head on the wall. I started photographing there and then in the next weeks I discovered that there were disco in most villages. I worked on the project on and off for the next 10 years, traveling to villages all over Lithuania.

How do you approach your work – how and why do you choose your subjects?
My projects usually develop slowly and sometimes feel like an accident or completely unplanned. I photograph a bunch of different things and then find one subject to focus on.

Many photographers today choose to communicate their work through a book format. Why do you think this happens today and what is important to you when making a book from your projects?
Photo books allow you to present your project the way you want it to be seen. Through design, sequencing, editing, and choice of materials you can a unique experience for the viewer. In reality photographers have been doing this throughout the history of photography.

What kind of project would you be interested in working on next?
For the last 5 years, I’ve been working on a project in Belarus called Tulips. Right now I’m in the process of editing these images for a book that I hope to publish later this year.