For Australian photographer Sarah Bahbah, food and sex are intimately tied. Her series is called Sex and Takeout, and it’s exactly what it sounds. There’s nudity and canoodling, all with a greasy side of fries. Or pizza. Or, even Chinese takeout. Bahbah runs the gamut of meals while posting it on her Instagram, @raisebywolvesau.
Subjects are seen sharing meals, eating it while laying in bed, or looking post-coital with their food. And sometimes, takeout boxes are pushed to the side as people get down to business. It’s indulgent, visceral, and at times a little silly. But, above all, Sex and Takeout is strangely satisfying for the viewer/voyeur of these private moments. Food and sex conjure the same pleased feelings and pleasurable experiences, so it’s only natural that the two would be enjoyed in the company of one another. (Via Flavorwire and Design You Trust)
Japanese photographer Daisuke Takakura creates a carousal of interactive humans. Double your pleasure. Double your fun. His pieces challenge you to focus and rest your amygdala—puzzling you with more questions than answers; energizing your eyeballs to pounce in all directions. His reproduction of clones create a maze-like quest in his photography.
The duplicated self is positioned in a variety of stances; each with their own agenda. Whether a day in the office, playtime in the city, resting on dinosaurs or in a female basketball court frenzy—the multiplication of bodies in these settings create an unbalanced curiosity in trying to interpret what each person is doing. Repeating the “self” into many selves provides more than one imagination to be analyzed or identified with.
In one of his monodramatic photos, women are seen running from a building covered in scarlet red, which appears to be blood down the front of their dresses. In the background, other women rest at the building entrance parading sea foam green umbrellas over their heads.
Photographer Bernhard Lang captures an aerial view of the Opencast Coal Mining Pit in Germany, which is one of the largest man-made holes in the world. At nearly 1,500 feet deep and covering almost 22 square miles, everything is at a giant scale. Massive machinery, the size of a 30-storey office buildings, scoops out coal, sand, and dirt to mine and move it about.
It’s hard to imagine something of these proportions, and through Lang’s sweeping landscape photography, he minimizes its grandiose scale. When looking down rather than upwards, it’s hard to get a sense of just how big these things really are. At times, they look like patterns of ant farms rather than the handiwork of humans. Perhaps it’s part of the point to say that these hulking machines and sprawling cleared paths aren’t as important as we’re lead to believe.
The real visual impact of these photos comes from their abstract qualities: the different colors of dirt that have been piled next to one another; the lines that are made by machines as they drive down the road; and the hills and valleys themselves. Through Lang’s careful framing, he’s captured their unintentional beauty.
Have you ever looked at a black and white photograph and wondered what it would look like if it were taken in the modern day? The Dutch website NSMBL recently uploaded GIFs of vintage photographs being colorized. We are not only able to see the original range of black, grey, and white tones, but we can see the color each hue translates to. As each nostalgic scene turns to color, we realize how different contemporary technology is and how far it has come. The new colors and tones are not muted or faded like we might expect a color vintage photograph to be. They are ultra-bright and full of vibrancy, leaving each image looking near perfect.
Because the images look too high quality for real vintage color photos, they almost make it seem as if we were in the frame of the picture within the scene, or like the photos were taken in modern times. Either way, it breaks the time barrier that creates such a nostalgic distance between the photograph and the viewer. It makes you wonder what images would have been captured if they had better technology during those times, or perhaps, what advanced technologies will capture images of our lives in the future. Contemporary film photography is becoming more and more obsolete, as vintage film is becoming aged and damaged over time. These images are refreshing to see as these classic photographs are now often documented digitally. We can both marvel at the technological advances in film photography while still seeing the timeless and beautiful original.
Italian charity La Collina dei Conigli ONLUS rescues rabbits, mice, rats, and guinea pigs from labs or mistreatment. The now-adoptable pets were the recent subjects of a photo series by Rachele Totaro that’s inspired by Lewis Carroll’s famous novel Alice in Wonderland. Volunteer Attilia Conti had the idea, and it commemorates the first 10 years of the charity’s operation. So, why Alice in Wonderland? Because the book and organization both started with a white rabbit.
The fantastical photographs feature the animals holding objects, poking out of a teapot, and of course, gazing into the looking glass. “Mice were the most cooperative models, while guinea pigs were the laziest (they stayed still only with food present),” Totaro writes. “Rats were the most attractive, and rabbits… were the most disapproving.” You can see that with some of the critters, there was no coercing them into any sort of cutesy pose.
The charity’s rescue center is located in Monza, near Milan, and many of the animals are still looking for new homes. If you’re local to the city, you can adopt one. (Via Bored Panda)
Icebergs, while massive in size, are usually seen in one way – as white objects that stick out of the frigid water. But, in rare situations, they take on a different, more brilliant form. When an iceberg is flipped over, it appears as a gem that cloaks itself in the color of the surrounding water. Interface designer Alex Cornell happened upon this phenomenon last month as he sailed through the Drake Passage to Antarctica. He was able to shoot pictures of the iceberg using his Canon 5D Mark II camera.
“We were lucky to see a massive iceberg flip; when this happens, the color is a surreal, alien blue,” he tells PetaPixel. “They don’t flip often, so it was a pretty rare sight to see. It’s hard to tell scale, but this was an epic iceberg.”
It’s often said that 90% of the iceberg itself is below the surface, and this is the cause of it being topsy-turvy. “It was amazing to see the interior. There were air bubbles and flowing water throughout. It looked like an alien artifact.” (Via 123 Inspiration and PetaPixel)
When photographer Klaus Pichler was moving out of his old apartment in Vienna, he noticed something peculiar about the dust on the floor. In the living room, dust bunnies were red while the mitesin his bedroom were light blue. This led to something of an epiphany for Pichler, and he realized that dust isn’t always gray like we so often see – there are varieties. Inspired by that experience, the photographer started a years-long series that chronicles the accumulation of different dust particles. Aptly titled Dust, it recently culminated into a book of the same name.
Pinchler’s dust gathering was similar to collecting specimens to study. He retrieved them with tweezers, placed each in their own Petri dish, numbered, and inventoried them. Photographing the dust proved trickier, and it required Pinchler renting an expensive 120mm macro lense and capturing them all within 24 hours. They were left unaltered and their tiny, exquisite beauty shines in these up-close images.
From police stations to subway stations and pet stores, each gathering of dust has its own idiosyncrasies. The pet shop, for instance, has tiny, brightly-colored feathers and wood chips for the animals. There’s less hair in it than the police station, which has threads, metal, and leaves swirling around in a matted ball.
Photojournalist Brett Gundlock delves deep into the everyday lives of Canadian Neo-Nazis in his emotionally conflicting series The Movement. The imagery presented is shockingly conflicting as we are shown moments of intimacy between the group’s members, and are also haunted by the many symbols embodying Nazi racism and violence. Isolating themselves from conventional society, the Neo-Nazi’s underground world is shown through photographs full of bloody walls, Canadian Red Ensign flags, and Swastikas.
Gundlock provides private, personal situations of a dark and troubling minority in a somewhat unlikely place; Canada. Interested in marginalized groups of society, Gundlock explains that his relationship with this series is complicated due to the obviously upsetting Neo-Nazi ideology focusing on White Supremacy. Gundlock describes his experience with this underground culture:
“The symbol of white skin is penetrated and marked with the black inks of Nazi symbols. Crime becomes the bullet point to their alternative résumés. Their existence requires a distinction between themselves and mainstream Canadians, people they understand and reinscribe as “the enemy.” A self-fashioned minority who believes they should be the majority, the Neo-Nazi enclave animates the tensions of a culturally diverse Canada.”
Gundlock’s sociological approach to his documentary style photography creates an informative and engaging dialogue in The Movement. Gundlock asks a very important question in his statement on this series, why do some Canadians become Neo-Nazi Skinheads? Perhaps it is the human need for community and belonging that drives some people to join such a hate-filled group. Often, people join these groups for a sense of entitlement, importance, or a sense of belonging. Gundlock’s photographs point a keen eye on a controversial part of society that many do not wish to face.
You can view Brett Gundlock’s newest series by checking out his Instagram.