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A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

A brand new publication by us, Reference Press! It is with immense pride that we release Icon Stations by Daniel Adhami into the world, a 650 page odyssey into the world of wayside shrines. Meditative and revealing, Icon Stations marks the completion a 5 year journey by Adhami, capturing the folk art tradition of Icon Stands created across hundreds of years on the island of Crete. It is a work of great beauty, a typology of sorts that reveals both the structures and the innate human need to mark the landscapes we inhabit. It is an alternative portrait of the island, but also a portrait of longing, of the universal yearning to connect with divinity, an otherness, and to reach out hopelessly for infinity. Launched last Thursday, we are nearly half sold-out already, so hit the link in our bio to get this remarkable book. It is a privilege to share this beautiful work with you.

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Step into the programme shaping this year’s Offprint London!

📚 Talks & book signings:

This year, the fair presents an inspiring series of artist talks at Reference Point (@referencepoint180), bringing together a dynamic range of contemporary voices.

Throughout the three days of Offprint, a dedicated programme of book signings will offer unique opportunities for meaningful exchanges and engaging encounters between artists and visitors.

[NEW!]

🖨️ Live printing installation:

The fair will also feature ‘Relic’, a project by RRose Editions (@rroseeditions) and artist Lucy Helton (@lucyhelton), a multi-analogue fax machine installation that prints book pages live.

Fax machines can be seen as relics—potential technofossils, or human-made objects that may eventually become embedded in the Earth’s geological record.

The thermal prints generated during the event will be compiled into a collective artist book, published in a limited edition by RRose Editions and made available to Offprint visitors.

🔊Sound Programme:

New Dimension’s Ben Goulder (@newdimensionhq) will curate a sound programme for Offprint London, bringing together international friends and collaborators, including BOOT MAG and VieImprint.

Moving between aural pleasure and pain, the programme will extend the fair’s atmosphere beyond the page through a resonant selection of sound, interference and low-level seduction.

🖍️ Colouring Art Book Workshop:

On Sunday, 17 May at noon, join us for a colouring art book workshop on the occasion of the launch of 'Spot 100 Difference Colouring Art Book', a colouring book with no beginning or end by Masanao Hirayama (@masanaohirayama), edited by Hato Press (@hatopress).

(Please note that the programme is still being updated.)

👉 Discover the full programme schedule on offprint.org
📍Offprint London, @180.studios, 15-17 May 2026

@luma_arles
#offprint #offprintlondon #offprintlondon2026 #180studios

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Book of the Week: Living Room, Waplington
Like only a handful of photo books before or after it, Nick Waplington’s Living Room arrived like a comet and left a crater so large that we still find ourselves falling into it thirty five years later. His first book, it features bright, frenetic, textured, patterned, joyous photographs documenting the lives of friends, family and neighbours on the Broxtowe housing estate in Nottingham. Waplington’s work is a series of glimpses into the domestic bliss of Thatcher’s Britain, in intentionally sharp opposition to the grainy, black and white, downtrodden interpretation of working class life that was so prevalent in the 1980s. Though the images feel candid, as if stolen on a small point and shoot, Waplington photographed everything with a large format landscape camera, setting up large rigs in living rooms across the estate and then just waiting. The images aren’t staged by any means, but they are deeply considered, the result of patience and trust on the subject and photographers part. Throughout Living Room there pervades a sense of adventure and escapade, family life rife with joy and trouble, mishaps and laughter. In a confined, controlled space, we go on endless journeys. So many of Waplington’s images are of children, and more are shot from the viewpoint of children as if with his camera, he is seeing the estate as a magical place for imagination, able to change at the whims and desires of your play. It is hard to overstate the influence of this work: since 1991 it has defined the British photobook and informed the entire cultural photographic understanding. Here we have the first edition, in hardcover, and we still can’t quite believe how good it is. Yours for £160. DM us.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Points of Reference 006: The Photographic Work of Herve Guibert

Herve Guibert’s photographs do not appear as those of a painter or photographer, instead these images originate from the mind of a writer. They are animated objects in space, bodies in bed, waiting, in rest and in reading. In his images, reading is perturbed by hope, or made uncomfortable by the desire for inspiration like the restlessness of wanting.

Guibert’s writings and photographs capture his life as a drawn out summer – still, but reverberating with expectation and a sense of longing driven by desire. When we sit with Guibert’s still lives we witness the act of writing as something relative to space, like a fickle love that needs precise conditions to flourish, a theme his work intimately explores.

In ‘The Only Face’, a recently published book of his photographs, it is the condition of travel that premises him to take out the camera and document. What emerges is not so much a record of place but one of familiar faces out of context, as if the love he feels for his subjects is amplified by the new surroundings.

“Of course I will be out the moment it begins to feel like it is my room, or else it is that I wait until I know something is about to be finished to begin at all, and by then it is too late.”

Guibert flirts with questions like a philosopher, but refuses to be confined to a life lived reading and writing alone. Through his images, he is reaching. His work is full of unsent love letters rising out of the will to create - this imagination is more vivid than reality or impending doom. Here the people and the books, the tools for creation and the translation of our thoughts, are revived. The mind reconfigures in a quiet place that holds no continuity, instead only the potential for inspiration.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the week: Adieu A X, Nakahira
In 1977, Takuma Nakahira fell into a coma as a result of alchohol poisoning. The Provoke founder and central figure of a new Japanese photography movement awoke to find he had sustained memory loss and aphasia, putting an end to his prolific writing as a theorist and critic but, remarkably, furthering a philosophy of photography he had been practising his whole life and moving closer towards before his accident. When Nakahira began Provoke magazine in 1968, with Kōji Taki, Yutaka Takanashi, writer Takahiko Okada, and, from the second issue, Daidō Moriyama, he was concerned with photography as a medium wholly separate from language. They spearheaded an are, bure, boke” (rough, blurry, and out of focus) style, deliberate but spontaneous in their images, turning Bresson’s concept of the decisive moment as not something to wait for but something that existed in reality if you could shorten the distance between the camera and the subject. Nakahira wanted to remove the conscience from the photographic process, allowing a direct confrontation with reality that was not mediated or filtered by the bias and protection of the mind. Of all of the Provoke photographers who were inspired by this idea, it was Nakahira who pushed it furthest, releasing in 1973 a now legendary publication of what was effectively catalog photography, completely unsentimental and devoid of a human touch. After his coma, Nakahira’s memory loss was so bad that the camera effectively became his method of remembering. He - as he himself said - became a camera. Using the photograph as a record to understand and see the world; shooting not out of sentiment of thought but for posterity and rigid documentation. The work in Adieu is remarkably beautiful, Nakahira’s natural eye stayed with him despite his challenges, but the instinctual approach is clear. The images exist in this strange tension of unemotional sanitisation and yet have the feeling of deep intimacy that comes with peering into someone’s memories. An important, revelatory work from a titan of a photographer, yours for £150. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Pictures and Text, Teller
How difficult it is to write about Juergen Teller and even come close to saying anything new. Since the mid 1990s, his shadow has been cast so long and so wide that much of visual world we are inundated with has his finger prints, his influence, his philosophy sitting atop it. Yet for all the proliferation and saturation that his images have experienced, to look deeply at Teller’s work, after all these years and all this success, is still to be awed by a master at work. His images fizz with an irreverence and a beauty, at once playful and funny and profound. He is aware of his own mythology, aware of his character and style which he plays with to daring and brilliant effect. Candid and honest, his work manages even in its juvenelia to feel glossy and polished. This tension sits at the heart of his images, and is where so much of their humour is derived from. His exposed anus atop a piano played by Charlotte Rampling seems at once crude and deeply fashionable, his family photos tender and absurd, his fashion images totally unflattering and yet endearing and aspirational. The pleasure of this fine book, or at least one half of the double feature housed in a slipcase, is that Teller accompanies each image with a written story of its origin. Originally, these texts were written for Zeit Magazine, where Teller had a column. Short, snappy diary entries, they serve to guide us through a fifteen year amalgamation of images with generosity and ease, giving us insight into the art world, the fashion world, Teller’s world and, perhaps most importantly, Teller’s mind. The other half of this work is a slim, paperback companion simply titled ‘Literature’, containing a selection of letters written in disgust, disappointment, and complaint written to Zeit Magazine during Teller’s tenure, pleading the editors to stop publishing his images. The duality of the two books is classic Juergen, poking fun at himself in the total confidence that his images speak for themselves. A wonderful work by the modern master in perfect condition. Two books in one, yours for £100. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Altars, Mapplethorpe
To be shot by Robert Mapplethorpe was to be under the supervision of an exacting, deliberate artist. He worked mostly in studio conditions, or make-shift studios if ones weren’t readily available, and considered and enacted every element of the shoot, obsessive about lighting, blocking, framing, and dress. That is not to say he wasn’t accommodating, only that he knew the shots he wanted, and he knew how to create them. The same applied to the printing of his work, working with the same darkroom tech for almost the entirety of his career. It makes perfect sense then, that for an artist so obsessive about the creation and reproduction of his images, that the same care and fascination would be applied to their presentation, though this facet of his practice is much overlooked. Between the pages of this longtime favourite, we get a glimpse into the presentation of Mapplethorpe’s images, as created by him, and into the complicated structures and frames that his extraordinary images lived in. The title of the work is no mistake, religious iconography runs through so many of this images and the sculptural homes that Mapplethorpe created give them more than an air of the sacred. Cruciform frames hold images of extreme bondage, and frames within frames create illusions of niches for his model idols to exist within, so that the contemporary taboos become elevated into divine symbols. While we think of Mapplethorpe as a photographer most pre-occupied with black and white, the sheer breadth and brilliance of his colour theory is on full display here, pairing burnt greens and sickly yellows alongside each other as backgrounds to diptych images that elevate the chiaroscuro figures they contain. This is a really fabulous book, in a full bleed slipcase with an excellent essay from Edward Curtis that offers renewed insight into Mapplethorpe’s practice. Naturally, it’s full to the brim of nudes we can’t show you here, and long lost photographs of his great muse, love, and friend Patti Smith that we could show you but we’re holding back so that you buy it, for the low price of £65. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: Francesca Woodman

It is hard not to see paintings in the work of Francesca Woodman. In the majesty of her walls, so rich in shadows and texture, there lives Vermeer. In the composition of her bodies, surreal female forms in grasping gestures, she speaks of Leonora Carrington. The furious and distorted faces, writhing in pain or ecstasy, brings one into the rich oils of Francis Bacon. Velázquez and Rembrandt hide in her self portraits and reflections, and Twombly’s instinctual, emotive strokes sit atop the movements. Yet for all of the recognition and influence, there was never, and will never be, someone quite like Francesca Woodman. Born into a family of artists in Colorado, Woodman began photographing at the age of 13, staging self portrait nudes in chiaroscuro lighting, creating dreamlike scenes in rural Boulder, and developing a photographic language so mature that her work feels consistent from her first childhood imagery right up until her final photographs, at the age of 22, shortly before she took her own life. It seems impossible, going through this exceptional book that serves as a fairly definitive overview of Woodman’s photographic work, that she was producing art for less than a decade, and a decade when most are still furtively scrambling to find themselves at that. Moving from Boulder to Providence  to study at RISD when she was just 17, she would move first to Rome and then New York after graduating. It was here she began to experiment with diazotypes, a chemical image reproduction process originally used for blueprints. In her masterful hands, she created large scale images in earthy browns and reds, reading as abstract poems of the self. This book was produced by the Cartier Foundation and published, of course, by Scalo, on the occasion of a retrospective of her work in 1998. It remains, in my mind, the finest book on this most fine and remarkable artist whose short life has left an indelible impression on an entire generation of photographers who followed her. Perfect condition hardback, yours for £175. DM us.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: A Wonderful Time, Aarons
Slim Aarons was not interrogative in his photographs; he made his career, he said, from “photographing attractive people, doing attractive things, in attractive places.” His images have become so much a part of the public imagination, that when we think of post-war high society, what we are really thinking of is Aarons, and his wealthy, old money, attractive people doing their attractive things in their attractive surroundings. He is not casting judgement nor making moral claims in his composition, instead he is democratic in his images, attempting simply to capture the people as and where they are, which is every corner of the world, in marble rooms, grand divans, and besides infinite swimming pools. A Wonderful Time was his first book, and in my humble opinion his finest. It is loose in its remit; where later works had higher specificity here the subtitle tells you all you need to know: this is an intimate look at the good life, as understood by Slim. The book itself is a journey from coast to coast of North America with detours on tropical islands and colonial hideaways, all without a single ounce of self-awareness or shame. Famous faces of powerful people who did not seek fame but were awarded it by their status populate every image - senators skulk in the backgrounds of dinner parties, aristocratic grandparents hang on walls, and everyone seems to have a number after their surname. They are all dressed in the very finest garb, linens and silks that allow the lounge lizards to glide softly through gilded existence. You can flick through the pages of this book and not find a care in the world, save for ones developed on the polo field or through the croquet hoops. And so, with whatever attitude you may go into this masterful work, you leave much in agreement with Aarons - this does seem like the good life indeed. Aarons’ words accompany each photograph, and he is a charming, insightful writer who tells elegant stories with wit and ease. This is the first edition of a most legendary book, in near fine condition for £400. DM us to make it yours.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Book of the Week: Dirty Windows, Alpern
In the winter of 1993, as New York City was covered in snow and the Sanitation Department was out of salt, Merry Alpern found herself camping out in her friends loft, obsessively watching two bathroom windows one floor below. An illegal gentlemen’s club had opened in the building and Alpern, through chance and fascination, became a voyeur of fragments. The windows were small and, as the title suggests, dirty. Seen from above, they provided an extraordinary intimacy and an inbuilt anonymity - she could rarely see faces, only bodies, genitals, hands, and clothes, but as she watched she found herself immersed, unhealthily, in the characters she saw and created in her mind. AAlpern photographed the windows for months, until a raid shut down the operation she was documenting but not before, thankfully, she had enough photographs to create this book - undoubtedly one of the finest photo-books of the last half century. It is shocking to me that we have never written about Dirty Windows - I suppose we have never been able to keep a copy in stock long enough to do so. It is the kind of work that burrows its way in and embeds itself deep in your mind, hitting perhaps some innate, unknown, deeply human desire of seeing, of watching. Sometimes, the grain and the grit create something abstract, the Rothko-esque lines of the windowpane framing a need for closer examination, but most of the time, it’s clear what’s happening. The smudged glass casts the sordid scenes inside with a light of romance: the noisey depictions of money in g-strings, pissing dicks, and transactional contact become something impossibly intriguing, appealing and revolting in equal measure. A very short essay by Alpern finishes the work, which otherwise moves through the pages without interruption. Alpern’s reputation is only growing, and this book rightly sits at the top of her achievement, only getting rarer by the day. This is the American first edition, so easily the most desirable as you always have to follow the flag when it comes to rare books. An investment piece if there ever was one, but a most miraculous, joyous book to own too, yours for £450. DM us.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Points of Reference 005: The Continuous Monument Series

You’ll probably recognise the cool, rational lattice stretched across the tables and cabinets of the Quaderna series issued by Zanotta in the early 1970s, and since absorbed into the general furniture-consciousness. Less familiar, perhaps, are its origins as the underpinning philosophy of Superstudio, a radical Florentine architecture collective for whom the grid was to be understood not just as pattern but proposition. Originally titled “Serie Misura M,” the work was less furniture than unit of measure - a tool to critically evaluate the contradictions and ambiguities of modernity and instead offer up an alternative model of existence.

Founded in 1966 by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, Superstudio emerged at a moment when social and political certainties were beginning to fray. Concerned that architecture was increasingly serving a consumerist agenda, rather than the needs of the people, Natalini and di Francia began working on their Continuous Monument, a theoretical mega structure that would extend across the whole globe. A series of speculative architectural drawings depicted this monolithic ‘supersurface’ as it slid implacably over coastlines, cities and deserts: the infinite plane a blank canvas for a new way of living and relating to the world. The grid, incessant, without flourish, fought back against the contemporary need for individualistic, unique design and the identity crisis of the International Style. It’s hope? To restore ‘cosmic order on earth’ and foster an environment against which the absurdities of modern consumption might be exposed.

More striking yet are their collection of surrealist photomontages, building on the Continuous Monument series. The collages are manifestos disguised as postcards from a future, one that Superstudio could envision but not materialise. Natalini and di Francia never built a building, and their limited furniture output was dwarfed by the scale of the world they envisioned. At their very core lay a utopian belief that design, when reduced to its bare essential metrics, might reveal something about who we are.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.

Truck Stop, Wise
Ten days after he graduated from RISD with a degree in photography, Marc Wise got a long haul trucking license and spent the next six years driving across America. This was not a rejection of his practice and the life he had been leading, nor was it a voyeuristic attempt at ingratiating himself in a community for the purposes of documentation. Instead, Wise was a trucker because he wanted to drive trucks, and a photographer because he wanted to take photographs and the two just happened to go well together. He had thought he would photograph the destinations, but Wise quickly realised that the world he was drawn to was the one he was competing in, the world of truck stops and truckers. The images are intimate to a point, intimate only because the lives being documented seem to exist in a state of forced anonymity, so to see behind the curtain shortens the inherent distance. “Everywhere you are is just anywhere but home. Everyone you meet is from somewhere else. And you will probably never see any of them again”, so ends Wise’s excellent opening essay, and it captures the feeling of the photographs. Wise is photographing his colleagues, people he is connected to, has brief relationships with, understands. But in that understanding, he knows that these are fleeting acquaintances, the life of a trucker is a lonely one. Beyond the portraits, which ebb with anti-fashion and the promise of a story never to be told, the interior photography is miraculous. The most liminal spaces you have ever seen, providing temporary reprieve and middling comfort to those stopping by, are elevated into dreamlike, unheimlich rooms for weary heads and cold, light beers. It is Americana for business, not pleasure, a vision of every corner of the country that could be any corner of the country, of cheap wood panelling and knotted carpets, CRT televisions and tired Christmas decorations. This is a cross country journey seen only in truck stops, and the lines of the faces that populate them. This is a truly remarkable photobook, in the hardback first edition and perfect condition. Yours for £75. DM us.