Sienna Luna & Rhodanthe

One of my all-time favorite photography books (and biggest guilty pleasure) is Revenge by Ellen Von Unwerth. It's a little (6 x 8 inch) limited edition book, bound in black linen. I don't like to judge books by their cover- but just looking at this cover, you know that it's going to be a treat inside. I've actually had people see the book among others at my photo studio and say "Oh, what's that?!". While there is a general narrative arc (taken as "excerpts" from the diaries of the nubile young heroines), Von Unwerth primarily uses stylized black and white photography (think Helmut Newton meets Man Ray) to tell the story of how the Baroness disciplines her newly orphaned nieces. It is not a very original story, but Revenge is really not about the story. What little narrative there is, is executed with a tongue-in-cheek flair that sets the saucy tone of the book. And the eroticism in Revenge really does have flair. The models are gorgeous, the clothes (when there are clothes) are gorgeous, the set (a glorious mansion and its extensive grounds) is gorgeous— all in the style of the lovely pornography of early 20th century Europe. The sadomasochistic elements tend less towards real pain and suffering and more towards the discomforts of dominance and submission in a campy, Paris Vogue sort of way. You can't help but laugh, but you also can't put it down— it's just too damn fucking pretty. Though I find the pleasure of reading it to be more aesthetic than erotic, I certainly can't deny that it's definitely a pleasure all the same. Revenge is a sexy little volume, all the more so because it doesn't take it so too terribly seriously. If a book could wink, this one would ;)

Ajaye

A woman who likes her whisky. To the next whisky bar...

Madeliene & Iris

What is, and what will be 21st Century photography? So far, the real difference between 20th Century photography and now is that it primarily existed on a printed page before, whereas now digital offers other possibilities. In the 21st Century a print is still relevant for sure, but now somehow quaint, and certainly not the way most of us see and/or use images for the most part now. Many print magazines and newspapers are dying and bookstores (where you can see actual books) offer a paltry selection of coffee table photo books. Remember those? In its place, there is now a luminous screen, and its other side remotely plugged into an unimaginably large stream of data. We now look at social media, websites, blogs, and online newspapers/mags for our images most of the time. And yet, there is still an image, and the image can be of something or other as always. The next wave will be virtual reality, for better or worse. It will be, at the very least, interesting. It will probably take on new names, such as immersive multimedia. Despite all of this, an image of a cat still will just represent a real cat (or perhaps, sort of), according to the same logic that maintains that paper money represents gold bullion (gold standard). It always was, and always will be, an illusion based on inherent trust. But that illusion will be stretched and the inherent trust will be further tested to be sure...

Katy

I had a literary allusion in mind for this image— I was thinking Henry Miller as a woman. I gathered up some old items and arranged them a bit. I told Katy to pretend to be him, which wasn’t hard since she worships the author (she has a tattoo of him on her arm). To be honest, I thought that it was going to be a kind of lame image, but I love it! Speaking of Henry Miller, for anyone remotely interested in him but have been put off by the intense going off on a tangent/rambling (and crudeness) in the Tropic books, I would suggest picking up a lesser-known writing— Quiet Days in Clichy. Miller, in a masterful way, gives us an account of Paris like it once was. Far from the visual images of a saccharine city as portrayed in films like Amelie (not that I don’t love that film), Quiet Days in Clichy mingles the picturesque with the down-and-out for a wonderfully grimy portrait of the underbelly of a city. Whores and cafes, breakfasts of Roquefort and white wine, poetry, and squalid prose, Miller dissects Paris in the brilliant way Émile Zola writes of it in Thérèse Raquin... presenting a city that is a filthy beast, but deserving not less than all your love and praise. It's straightforward, hilarious— and at times shocking, but undoubtedly it will continue to be an inspiration to those who long to live life to the fullest. I've been a big Henry Miller fan since I was a teenager, but his infamous and banned books (the Cancer and Capricorn ones) are not my favorites. I far prefer this one, along with The Colossus of Maroussi and Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch. Quiet Days is a memoir; a nostalgic story of life in Paris before WW II; a celebration of the Bohemian life Miller lived when he was a poor unknown writer. It's rollicking, hysterical, and introduces fans to a whole cast of characters who became Miller's lifelong friends— people who influenced his writing and his art forever.

Hand-made Japanese doll

"I really believe there are things nobody would see if I didn't photograph them."    ~Diane Arbus

Jade Vixen

When I first started photographing, my biggest influence was Man Ray. My earliest successful images often looked like Man Ray photographs. Not so much any more, but that connection is still embedded in me, and that aesthetic still seeps into more than a few newer images. Perhaps the one below fits that bill. Early on, I used to think that his images were more by chance than deliberate methods. I saw a wonderful retrospective on him at the Georges Pompidou Center in Paris, back in 1998, which showed how dramatically he would crop images. It also showed how he used myth making to his advantage— he would make up fabulous stories about how many of his photographs came about by happy accident, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. His name is a good example of how intentional he was about anything that he did. His real name was Emmanuel Radnitzky— but he cropped it, and cropped it well. He didn't become Manny Radnik or Ritzy Manuel. He folded and trimmed his name so that the new one would have a shiny new meaning- half human, half light. Man Ray cropped with flair, and chance had nothing to do with it.

Devon

I must say that although I definitely understand the mass appeal of using your iPhone as a snapshot camera, I have never been entirely comfortable with the trade-off. Yes, it's super convenient— but it is actually taking two or three (or four) steps backward concerning image quality. Technology (especially for photography) is more advanced than ever, but everyone is taking these awful pictures that wouldn't even look good as a 4 x 6 print, yet alone a larger print that you might frame and hang. Hell, they usually look downright awful as thumbnails on Facebook! I see the bus stop and television ads showing what amazing potential they have as far as being able to be blown up to a billboard or a large HDTV, but I am not buying it. They are very deceptive. Those images are very carefully selected from talented photographers shooting under ideal circumstances— not to mention that the images were not degraded with in-phone apps, and then they were heavily processed and fixed by professionals with advanced software. Maybe they were not even shot on iPhones? None the less, I have an iPhone, and sometimes the best camera is the one you have with you. So I have been taking some shots with it. Things that catch my eye in the spur of the moment. Also, macro photography is a strong point of the iPhone camera; you can get two inches away (from, let's say an insect) and get a good focus. I love this because carrying a macro lens on the go is not something that I would typically do. So, yes, eventually I hope to have a little portfolio of iPhone images. I'm pretty damn sure that it won't be my favorite portfolio, but it might be interesting. Kind of like the collection of Polaroids that I have— which are interesting, but far from great....