ZUM - revista de fotografia

Reaching the twentieth printed edition is quite a feat, even when there’s little to celebrate. In this ZUM#20 we bring together contributors who defy the status quo of the image and make us see what we have not seen – be it by transforming the personal universe through the mirror of collective tragedies, by tackling with irony the situation of those at the edges of capitalism, or by facing the archives on which history is based, but which can also be used to rewrite history. Like many Brazilians, the young photographer Allan Weber lost his job during the pandemic. To support his family, he put down a deposit on a motorcycle and started to work delivering orders made via cellphone apps, from his home in the north of Rio de Janeiro. The scenes of his everyday life are on the cover of this edition, revealing the beauty of an urgent and often invisible routine. It is like opening an intimate diary that Carrie Mae Weems invites us to her kitchen table, to share her anxieties. Published in full here, in times of isolation, the series of photographs completes thirty years and is ever-more current. With a touch of irresistible prose, Lita Cerqueira clicks open the shutter of the memories and loves that have marked her life. In a stroll through the night, the Turkish writer Orhan Pamuk ventures into photography to scrutinize the urban landscape of Istanbul, a city in transformation.

Photography and literature still fuse in a new tale by the writer Ana Paula Maia, inspired by the images taken for ToiletPaper, a magazine edited by the artists Maurizio Cattelan and Pierpaolo Ferrari. Visual transgression and delirium are also the pillars sustaining the work of the trans collectives Limitrofe Television, Analcancer2009 and Bouquet International. Their pop calendar, which opens this edition (transformed into a poster for subscribers) helps us to count the time we have lost. Faced with so many images, what is the role of archives? In rescuing the stories behind old snaps, the Paiter Suru. people prepare the arrows of the future. Denilson Baniwa confronts the classic iconography of Theodor Koch-Grünberg with the icons of the movies, and so rocks the frontier which divides our photographic science and pure science fiction. Facing tradition itself, the architect Paulo Tavares contests the notion of progress which permeates modern Brazilian photography and shows how it can help combat the erasure of the indigenous peoples it helped to celebrate. We carry on vigilant in difficult times.

To investigate the past is to give a future to the present. Artist Rosana Paulino opens this edition with a new work (in poster form for subscribers to ZUM), in which she investigates the violent roots of Brazil’s history – our true nature, which art and society insist on hiding. Ever more visible, the indigenous artists selected by curator Naine Terena break down frontiers to rewrite the history of Brazilian art from new perspectives. Both the nudes by the Chinese photographer Ren Hang and the photographic archives rescued by artist Carmen Winant suggest that the body can be a free territory, open to self-exploration. Freedom also laps at the work of Davi de Jesus do Nascimento, who uses self-portraits and his family’s collection of photographs to build his identity and ancestry.

In an extreme opposite, the faces and bodies of Ana Mendieta’s performances and the posters photographed by Teresa Margolles compel us to remind that violence against women is not just a statistic. Our body moves into the 21st century under the surveillance of images, as Julian Stallabrass’ essay on art and politics shows, or in the portraits of immigrants in search of a future, taken by artist Richard Mosse. Researchers Kênia Freitas and José Messias fully examine Beyoncé’s Afrofuturist epic to celebrate the creative potential and investigate its narrative ambiguity.

Every step we take into the future brings us closer to the past. After all, what is photography and what is it for? In their own time and in their own way, Man Ray and Roland Barthes sought an answer; in texts which have become classics they found more questions and the certainty of a varied and irreducible essence.

The world has come to a halt. And, through the lens of a virus, it has found itself to be even more unequal. Social exclusion, racism and lies have become worse. In the images that follow, the body asserts itself as a battleground and a place of resistance: be it in the performances of Berna Reale, which uncover the violence of the State; or in the clips of Hudinilson Jr., which expose the desires that we insist on repressing; or in the proud gazes portrayed by Deana Lawson, which, according to the writer Zadie Smith, are a response to the discrimination promoted by the history of men and of the image.

The political struggle also takes hold in the visual field. And we need history to face the dispute: as the artist Ahlam Shibli reveals in showing the attempt to erase the Palestinian tragedy, or through professors Eyal and Ines Weizman, by investigating tragedies visible only in the gaps between the images. The verb “to go viral” has returned to the center stage, confusing even more the boundaries between truth and falsehood, as Giselle Beiguelman explains in analyzing the spread of videos produced by artificial intelligence – the deepfakes.

In the post-war photo collages of Décio Pignatari, in the scenes of the Indian coast of Sohrab Hura, or in Lebohang Kganye’s reinvention of the family album, the surreal helps us cope with the violence and to rebuild ties. With a game of chance, artist Paulo Bruscky has created a new work, printed in fluorescent colors. This work also circulates as a special insert in the printed magazine for subscribers, reaffirming our commitment to the printed image, the physical presence.

Restrictions to free movement, established to protect us, mean that this edition is arriving late, but it is no less dashing. On the eve of it going to press, Ventura Profana presented us with some dazzling photomontages, which join symbols of the Abrahamic religions with those of the political and social situation in Brazil and in the rest of the world. The images have made it to the cover and the supplement that opens this special edition. We are all under attack, physical or virtual, but bodies and images resist.

In the beginning, everything was blue, as can be seen in the cyanotypes made by Anna Atkins, whose primacy in the history of the photobook has only been recognized almost two centuries later. In his last major work, Michael Schmidt shows the pernicious consequences of capitalism in stomach-turning photos.

Photography has never been a neutral technology, recalls the writer Ariella Azoulay in dispelling the myths of imperial origins to build other histories of photography. So does the anthropologist Hélio Menezes, who identifies
the participation of the slave system in the modern progress documented by Marc Ferrez in the 19th century.

From frame to frame, the cinephile Eduardo Solon amassed a collection of moments in which his affective memory is intertwined with the history of cinema. A pioneer, Dora Maar has also reinvented the world from fragments,
with her surrealist photomontages.

The historians Mauricio Lissovsky and Ana Maria Mauad recover photos which show that torture was a routine practice in Brazil during the military dictatorship. In an exclusive interview, Don McCullin reveals that he does
not feel proud of his war photographs, and advises young people to register the reality of their own cities. That’s what the Chinese photographer Feng Li does, prompted by the visual Babel of contemporary China.

Here in Brazil, the failure of public policies carves the emptiness captured by Vincent Catala in the faces and landscapes of Rio de Janeiro. Progress is also an illusion in the photographic series by Carlos Zílio, current both during the dark years of the military dictatorship and in our present.

In a time of uncertainty regarding the future, to relearn how to look is fundamental to recover the capacity to imagine the new, together.

For decades photography has been carving out different clichês for itself. We need to be aware of them to dismiss them. Artist Hito Steyerl contrasts the images of perfect people that appear in spam messages to the growing number of politically invisible or discriminated citizens. Photographer Camila Falcão presents the intimacy of transsexual and transvestite people, who have built a new type of feminism while their lives and rights are under threat.

Be wary of what you see and what others have seen on your behalf. For every photograph taken by Walker Evans and other top photographers, recording the efforts of the United States government to overcome the Great Depression, thousands of others were discarded and are only now being seen. Similarly, behind every hero from the Vietnam War, there are hidden Vietcong photographers who worked for their own cause and obstinately sought victory.

South African Guy Tillim presents us with the historical and urban layers of contemporary Africa, where the colonizers were replaced by dictators, and are now opening up to global capitalism. The product of positivist criminology, an archive of penitentiary tattoos gives us a snapshot of the stories of the American, Italian, Syrian and other immigrants who crossed ways in São Paulo in the early 20th century.

While the Portuguese artist Jorge Molder investigates the effects of chance, the Japanese photographer Hiroshi Sugimoto reflects on the human desire to fix time.

We look with fresh eyes at the masterly work of Manuel .lvarez Bravo, setting aside the exoticism that the Eurocentric view imposed on the artists of his country – a tension between modernism and nationalism, which is also present in the hitherto unpublished portrait of Oscar Niemeyer by Irving Penn.

It is important to keep one’s eyes open to see better and more freely.

The paintings of Éder Oliveira which open this edition were created from photographic studio portraits or extracted from the crime sections of newspapers in the state of Pará, Brazil. How is social exclusion depicted in the press and what is its face? What prejudices do we conceal in the gulf between the way we see ourselves and how we see others? When painting photographs and omitting their original medium, Oliveira shows how visual representation expresses the inequalities of our democratic representation.

Photography is context. Female icon of the Magnum agency, Susan Meiselas tells us how she traveled the world to tell stories of abuse and oppression. Be it showing us the actions of authoritarian regimes in Latin America or living alongside Cape Verdean immigrants in Lisbon, Meiselas has reenergized photojournalism, by showing us that it is necessary to engage deeply in every click. This same lesson has been left to us by the South African photographer David Goldblatt, who died this year after living his life in a divided country. His work is a testimony to and a manifesto for the battle against racism.

Divided between the roles of photographer and protester, José Inacio Parente recorded in 1968 the spark of hope that preceded the cruelest years of the dictatorship in Brazil. Then came the dark times, as Ana Vitória Mussi also suggests in her paintings of black images of sports journalism, an allusion to the period of censorship and exacerbated patriotism.

The studio portraits made in the post-war period by eccentric Mike Disfarmer, or Alec Soth’s photos taken at the turn of the century along the Mississippi River in the USA show the disappointment that surrounds the American dream at different periods.

The renowned artist Cindy Sherman tries to free herself of her own image when she embraces the illusions of social networks. With philosophical density and remarkable sensitivity, Japanese photographer Lieko Shiga plunges into the image to offer a labyrinthine report of her daily life before and after it was swallowed up by the sharp reality of a tsunami.

Photography shows the other, similar or different. On the cover of this issue, a bride re-stages her marriage in one of the thousands of images produced by Afonso Pimenta in the 1980s in Aglomerado da Serra, Belo Horizonte. At the request of his clients or on his own initiative, Pimenta documented the day-to-day lives and intimate moments of his neighbors, who had little access to photography.

Deterioration has not prevented the collection from becoming a rare and precious record of the private lives of Brazilians. The German photographer Wolfgang Tillmans became known in the 1990s for documenting the social and sexual lives of his friends. Disdain for tradition and hedonism fueled the aesthetic and social renewal in Germany following  the fall of the Berlin Wall. Missionary Martin Gusinde could not prevent a genocide, but his methodical study of the Tierra del Fuego people years later preserved the enchantment of those cultures. The riots following Rodney King’s death sparked the Dutch photographer Dana Lixenberg’s interest in photographing the residents of the poorer suburbs of Los Angeles, with a dignity that many would rather keep invisible.

In the 1970s, artist Anna Bella Geiger assumed the identity of others to confront stereotypes and preconceptions; while more recently the contemporary Swiss artist Yann Gross records his discovery of an Amazon that combines tradition with exoticism.

Art feeds on the written word. Ninety years ago, Aleksandr Rodchenko fought the unique and authoritarian voice of painting in favor of the multiplicity of photography, in a manifesto the resounds even more strongly today if read in the light of search engines such as Google. Belgian David Claerbout explains why the dream of freedom promised by digital animation ends up reinforcing our normal senses and the dominant aesthetics.

Through memes we glimpse the future, where symbolic absurdity and subversive humor – but also prejudice and aggression – reveal more about us than we might like.

Hold it. Touch it. Browse it. Against bodily shyness and shame, the Dutch photographer Viviane Sassen shows us, in her deeply symbolic portraits of people, motherhood and the pride of being Afro-descendant. Three decades earlier, Paz Errázuriz went to the brothels of the Chilean dictatorship to protect the transsexuals who kept their dignity while living a life in the shadows. “Minorities are the majority,” she said with undeniable empathy. Freedom carved in suff ering is the topic of the article by Dorrit Harazim, who compares Dorothea Lange’s and Ansel Adams’ visions of the Second World War decree which interned Japanese-Americans purely because of their origin and appearance. At the beginning of the 20th century, the French criminologist Alphonse Bertillon also used appearance to give the police a new tool – proof that photography can be used in ways not only unique but also suspicious.

In an exclusive interview, the French philosopher Georges Didi-Huberman talks of image as an act of creation and resistance, and reveals to be an occasional photographer. Word and images are used in the explosive synthesis by the Argentinian artist León Ferrari, who juxtaposes the Bible with Chinese, Christian and journalistic iconography. The Japanese photographer Takuma Nakahira revealed the body of cities and fought against the modernist idealism that submitted the world to the vision of the artist. His radical work, shown at the Paris Biennale in 1971, vibrates with the same restlessness as that of his master William Klein, honored by Nakahira in a powerful essay. The photographer and real estate appraiser Marcos Freire is in tune with São Paulo and shows us its homes and the recent social transformations in Brazil. With a sharp critical eye, fi lmmaker Walter Carvalho exposes the issues involved in collective housing, in a mixture of disenchantment and utopia, stitched tightly together by the Pernambuco writer José Luiz Passos. The photograph is our involuntary mirror.

Since the Big Bang of the 19th century, the universe of photography has continued to expand. Cell phones have swallowed cameras, cameras have devoured video cameras, and a visual torrent has overwhelmed the feeds. In this edition, photography is dissected to expose its association with other disciplines and to map a world in dire need of research and reflection. This is what the skull on the cover suggests, an ironic flaking portrait, done by André Penteado in his research on the French Mission that arrived in Brazil in 1816. Like an archaeologist, the photographer has collected visual pieces to enrich our understanding of the puzzle that is the history of Brazil – a topic also faced with refinement by essayist Mauricio Puls when he discusses the meaning of true and false in our press photography. The Nigerian photographer J. D.’Okhai Ojeikere has united anthropology and typology in his study of hairstyles, exposing the roots of an ephemeral cultural tradition.

In addition to being beautiful photographic objects, painted photographic portraits tell the intimate story of an aspect of popular photography that still needs to be researched. The selfies of @ex_miss_febem show without constraints the self-exposure and exhibitionism of the 21st century to discuss the visual exploitation of the female body. The language of amateurism reappears in a historical text by the artist Jeff Wall on the fundamental aesthetics of art photography. The subject of a memorable retrospective, Ed van der Elsken shows a foreigner eye on his film and photography, in books and projections, while Vania Toledo looks into the nocturnal creatures of her archive. Finally, the workshops of Vídeo nas Aldeias are an original and successful example of the democratization of the image. We have gained a brave new world.

THIS ISSUE MARKS THE FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF ZUM, a biannual publication which offers a carefully selected and wide-ranging vision of Brazilian and international visual production. As conservative winds sweep through various regions of the planet, ZUM is committed to offering its readers images on themes that are both relevant and urgent. For more than ten years, Zanele Muholi has confirmed the power of portraits in her series Faces and Phases, in which hundreds of black lesbian and transgender individuals confront violence, prejudice and social patterns. Other conflicts are discussed on the edition: in the series that Arthur Omar did for ZUM with superimposed images of his trip to Afghanistan in 2002, shortly after it was invaded by the United States; in the political work of the German artist Gerhard Richter, concerned with the clash between photography and painting; in the ethnic cleansing in Ecuador a hundred years ago, suggested by the images of Ecuadorian José Domingo Laso; and in the shocking collages of Thomas Hirschhorn, constructed from scenes of explicit violence which, according to the artist, are intended to shake the spectator from lethargy.

Social issues are also central to the work of the collective Trëma, which won the ZUM/IMS Photography Grant in 2015. Trëma travelled to Congo and to Colombia to photograph the memories of two immigrants who arrived in Brazil last year, using the accounts given here as the basis for the pictures. To ensure an atmosphere of celebration, ZUM pays homage to the brilliant Fernando Lemos, who looks back on his career and discusses the principles of his artistic practice by means of the photographs he took in Portugal between 1945 and 1952, some of them hitherto unpublished. In a penetrating analysis of the selfie, the Catalan Joan Fontcuberta shows how photography is ceasing to be a means of preserving memory, to become instead a means of communication. This issue opens with eight historical xerographic narratives from Mario Ramiro. The artist and professor features again in the magazine, with a fragment of his doctoral thesis, which examines the spirit photography produced in Brazil and explores the relationship between photography and truth, science and religion. When we talk about images, not everything is what it seems.

TO CELEBRATE its tenth edition, ZUM presents both new and historical photo essays, in addition to texts written especially for the magazine. In an outstanding example of historical review, Professor Andreas Valentin revisits the work of José Oiticica Filho, who joined his scientific and artistic knowledge to challenge the experiment between reality and photography. Tatewaki Nio, author of the cover photo of this edition, crossed the border with Brazil to photograph Bolivia’s amazing new architecture, with buildings that at times resemble jukeboxes created with Photoshop. Three features make a powerful contribution to our reflections on the circulation of the image. In two different series, Odires Mlászho scratches the reverse side of photographs published in newspapers and transforms pictures from books into serpentine, in an obsessive search to understand how images are modified when their form, context and ink are extracted from them. Dorrit Harazim, a frequent contributor to ZUM, reviews David Shields’ polemical book, which challenges the impartiality of visual coverage of war by The New York Times – a careful reflection, which deserved to be extended to the Brazilian press.

The Canadian professor Lorna Roth questions the neutrality of photographic technology in bringing to light the history of Shirley cards, used since the 1940s to standardise the skin tones in photos. The article on Motoboy Channel, a kind of image-based social network replicated in several places round the world, discusses how digital tools can strengthen the identity of a group. This edition of ZUM also includes Nicholas Nixon’s complete series of portraits that reflect on the passage of time in the lives of four women; the condensed time in Michael Wesely’s images of the rebuilding of the Potsdamer Platz in Berlin; the incendiary production of Ukrainian Boris Mikhailov, who exposed the social and political conflicts in his country; and the uncanny, technicolour humour of Swede Lars Tunbjörk, who died in 2015 at the peak of his career. Enjoy the issue.

ON THE 20th anniversary of the death of George Love, the American photographer who lived in Brazil between 1960 and 1980, ZUM publishes some of his portraits and landscapes, which contrast the frenetic stress of cities with paradisiac, apocalyptic visions. In a less exalted vein, Graciela Iturbide, the grande dame of Mexican photography, shows us women who appear to be monuments carved out of stone. In a revealing interview, Lucien Hervé, who died in 2007, recalls his career and reminds us that good photography is built up from bricks of ideas. Lucia Mindlin Loeb’s fascination with cities is a constant thread running through her photographic survey. Her uninhabited streets, photographed ten years apart, are a perfect counterpoint to the gregarious life of the Araweté people, informally photographed in the 1980s by anthropologist Eduardo Viveiros de Castro.

In these days of bits and bytes, ZUM looks back at the historical photographic experiments conceived by the Italian Ugo Mulas to show how the supposed impartiality of the image can serve the most ambiguous purposes. From Mulas to Saul Bellow, distrust dominates this edition – the feeling is also shared by Professor David Levi Strauss, who analyzes the political meaning of some famous cases of photographic manipulation. Political boldness is part and parcel of the images shot by Ai Weiwei’s visual machine gun, who took aim at the Chinese government and hit the mark in our remarkable world of images.

FEW ARTISTIC MEDIUMS are as diverse as photography. And diversity is not lacking in this edition of ZUM. From a reign of gentleness comes Rinko Kawauchi, with photographic pearls that add to the aesthetic sensibility that marks Japanese photography. Challenging the limits of an image, artist Regina Silveira constructs three-dimensional spaces in two distinct series and shows how her recent work is founded upon a previous photographic practice, with her collections of postcards – two series of which are reproduced here on their natural scale – and her Enigmas series, which combines the photo of an object and a shadow printed as a photogram. Both Rinko and Regina publish their work and produce books, an increasing wave in contemporary art. Gerry Badger guides us through this flood of production, revisiting the books he considers most important to the history of photography.

Dorrit Harazim tells the story of photographer Lee Miller, her fascinating work and intrepid life. American Nan Goldin is no less courageous as she discuss censorship and shows how her work is a perfect expression of her life. Highly popular with the general public but less so with critics, the new adventures of Sebastião Salgado are analysed from different perspectives. ZUM pays a posthumous tribute to Lewis Baltz and A. C. D’Ávila, who both made valuable contributions to the art in the 20th century. And while the infamous 7 – 1 soccer score becomes a symbol of the difficult times Brazil is passing through, Eustáquio Neves teaches us to question art and whatever else offers a crystal clear vision.

THE HISTORY OF PHOTOGRAPHY has many gaps. For every well-known photographer, there are many others to be discovered and acknowledged. This is the case with Assis Horta, dug up from the photographic mines in the city of Diamantina. The perfection in his work, his vast production and the fact that his photos have been preserved for decades make sure this 96-year-old from Minas Gerais state holds a position of honour in the Brazilian photography and social history encyclopaedias.

In the last 100 years, war photography has questioned image manipulation, helping define criteria that are, to this day, subject to heated debate. In an article commissioned for the centenary of the First World War, the historian Hilary Roberts shows how the idea of photographic truth was shaped during the conflict, in the discussion of the ethical principles of journalism, technical advances and the demands of those who risked their lives on the front lines.

In the last edition of ZUM, Fred Ritchin, photography professor at the University of New York, criticized the traditional view of photojournalism and encouraged photographers and editors to venture into new paths. The Offside project, organized by the Magnum Agency during Brazilian World Cup, is a first step. In June and July this year, while spectators and journalists had their eyes on the pitch, eight photographers and two collectives got together to tell a story parallel to the event. From urban haikus to daily theatricality, passing by social and religious types, the photographers defined their work agenda and wandered the country to produce the special material seen in this edition.

Very few photographers have embraced the “on the road” spirit as much as the Japanese master Daido Moriyama. Known for his unorthodox techniques, such as shooting without looking through the viewfinder or editing books using photocopiers, Daido compares the adventure of hitting the road to the experience of reading dozens of books, in one of the most beautiful reflections of his career.

For almost 30 years, the philosopher Vilém Flusser suggested that electromagnetic photography would be the cutting edge trigger of a cultural revolution. Free from its material support, the image would circulate and allow democracy to spread its wings. Utopic and premonitory, Flusser did not imagine the course our digital life would take, but defended a critical analysis of images as a precious tool to understand what goes on around us. Not only is this the vision that defines ZUM but it is also the backbone of Mauricio Lissovsky’s essay, where he discusses how the cover photo of a book can reflect a social transformation of dramatic and profound consequences.

ART CRITICS AND ARTISTS have been discussing what is unique about photography’s artistry since it was invented. In 1976 Alair Gomes, prolific photographer and compulsive writer, decided to contribute with the debate, unravelling his arguments in “Critical and candid reflections on photography.” After nearly 40 years, the rigour and originality of his thinking are still influential. Photography’s trump card, Alair says, is the medium’s ability to work with a large number of images – and so create narrative sequences. It is this reasoning that illuminates his work, as can be seen in the photographs and in the text hidden away in his files which are, according to the National Library of Rio de Janeiro, as yet unpublished.

Narrative cohesion and critical reflection on photographic language have always been of interest to ZUM. At the invitation of the magazine, the Indian photographer Dayanita Singh retraces her career in an essay that weaves together text and image, fact and fiction. Rubens Mano’s new work presents a collection of 60 stills taken from his videos of Brasília – his unblinking view of the city balances concrete and improvisation, ruin and construction. Raul Garcez’s affectionate and equally melancholic gaze roams over the first public housing development in São Paulo, constructed in the 1950s.

An antidote to these times of irrelevant selfies, vibrant portraits fill the pages of this edition. In a humorous and confessional piece, Richard Avedon challenges the naturalness of the pose by declaring the artificialness of his family albums and his admiration for the drawings of Egon Schiele. Dutch photographer Rineke Dijkstra may have heard Avedon’s advice: with a painter’s eye, she contemplates the discomfort of children and young people invited to pose – sometimes for long periods – in the lush greenery of parkland. Soon to turn 80, Malick Sidibé has immortalized Mali society’s enthusiasm for fashion and popular culture fads during the post-independence period.

Photography slowly reveals its political sensibilities. While David Perlov reflects on the private and the public in his films, Antonio Manuel’s interventions on newspaper articles and photographs strengthen his artistic voice. Re-affirming his position as one of the most important thinkers on photojournalism, Fred Ritchin discusses the future of the profession and the inadequacy of the term “digital photography” when we are to describe what comes next. Ritchin’s thoughts on this are well illustrated by the press collective Mídia Ninja in their coverage of some of the most immediate issues that have affected Brazil and the world. Is there a pixel at the end of the tunnel? Or is it that, as Alair used to provoke, photography has yet to become fully conscious of itself?

IN JUNE THIS YEAR, the Movimento Passe Livre (Free Fare Movement) called for marches in São Paulo to protest against the rise in public transport fares. The violent police repression together with the general dissatisfaction in the population drove millions of people to the streets in hundreds of the country’s towns. The protests persist until this day.

How can a biannual magazine dedicated to photography contribute to this political debate? One answer is in the most recent essay of Cia de Foto collective, published as a poster. Without the focus on the riots or police violence that inundated the media, these images shed light on group and individual participation in defense of democratic ideals. This reflection is made even more relevant because it comes from photographers who, in the beginning of the 2000’s, heated up the debate about authorship by signing images with the collective’s name, and not with their individual ones.

Politics and democracy permeate this edition. Chris Marker, who died in 2012, experiments with low resolution images taken in the Paris metro. His obsession with the female face is also an involuntary portrait of the immigrant batallions which clog the city’s arteries. No less engaged, Raymond Depardon settles his score with colour photography by reviewing his career of travels and conflicts in a text in which history blinks its eyes in every street corner. Told through archive images, Pablo Escobar’s journey of violence and oppression needs to be reckoned with if it is not to be forgotten.

Discarded Chinese photographs expose the enthusiasm and innocence which followed the opening of the country by Deng Xiaoping’s government. But can these photos really be given the status of artistic? This is what the Catalan thinker Joan Fontcuberta discusses in his article.

Experimentation and rebellion often give rise to good art. At the turn of the 1970’s, Mario Cravo Neto took the colour, volume and distortions of his sculptures to different mediums. Shown for the first time this year, the photographs were the kick off to the colourful production that would make
his best work. A few years and miles from there, Alberto García-Alix would live in black and white the colourful movida madrileña, which took over post-Franco Spain. To heat up the book fever, a powerful review discusses War Primer 2, an ambitious graphic and political intervention by the artist duo Broomberg & Chanarin in Bertolt Brecht’s war primer published in 1955.

What remains, in the end, is the advice given by Chilean Sergio Larraín to his nephew. When you see something good in a book or magazine, leave it open on the page, exhibited, for weeks, months, so long as it keeps saying something to you: “We take a long time to really see something.”

THE INDIVIDUAL, the crowd. A traditional genre in the history of photography, a portrait can offer a finely-detailed description of an individual and, at the same time, suggest the existence of a social type. Good portraits do this, and still touch on issues that concern us all. The marginalised figures from the streets of California that Katy Grannan has chosen as her subjects inhabit the boundary that divides reality from fantasy, and force us to think about standards of beauty and gender, the dictates of fashion and our Photoshop’d world. Four decades earlier, Garry Winogrand also took to the streets to make a black and white portrait of the uncertain, incendiary world of post-war America.

The other side of the planet was also experiencing turbulent times. A photojournalist for the Heilongjiang Daily during the Chinese Cultural Revolution, Li Zhensheng hid thousands of negatives under the floor of his apartment. They showed the fervour of the multitudes and the arbitrary nature of Mao Zedong’s regime. Leaving behind the early revolutionary enthusiasm and becoming more aware of what was happening, Li changed, if not history, at least the memory of the 20th century.

Photography can be used as a way of dealing with oppressive realities, of becoming more attentive or simply helping us see better. This is how the renowned sociologist Pierre Bourdieu explained his field-trip to Algeria. In a rare interview, at the end of his life, Bourdieu explains how his 3,000 photographs helped him ellaborate a way of looking that lies at the heart of his sociology.

Other talented pilgrims wander the pages of this issue. The German film-maker Wim Wenders travels from Australia to the American Midwest in a diary filled with notes, friends and photographs. At ZUM’s request, Rosângela Rennó, from Minas Gerais, uses her family’s slides to reinvent her parents’ journey across the United States in 1958. Bárbara Wagner ventures into the state of Pernambuco to show a maracatu very different from the tourist guide books. André Cepeda, from Portugal, gives us a
preview of his residency in São Paulo, accompanied by a 4 x 5 inch camera.

Travel also widened the social and political dimensions of Thomas Struth’s work. In his analysis of the work of the German photographer, sociologist Richard Sennett opens up a debate on how the past, the present and the future are carved onto the faces of cities. Returning to one of the themes of this issue, Struth believes that his urban photos can be seen as portraits. If you consider them as living organisms, buildings always tell the truth. “They are the testimony of people’s character, [they] express pride,
anger, ignorance, love – everything that humans are capable of expressing.”

FEW PHOTOGRAPHERS are capable of creating a solid visual work and, at the same time, underscoring the fundamental motives that lead to the construction of images. From the clash with the 1970s American landscape, photographer and professor Stephen Shore reaches the delightful conclusion: shape or form is not an art syrup that you pour over the content; for this to make sense, it needs to come from one’s own experience.

The menu of this issue includes several photographers who have dedicated their work to photographing landscapes as a means of understanding the world. It may be constructed with scissors and sellotape on sheets of glass, as in the little known series Sobras [Leftovers] by Geraldo de Barros, completed in the last three years of his life. It can also be achieved through elaborate shots, similar to those by the Italian Luigi Ghirri. Virtually unknown in Brazil, Ghirri was both a great photographer and a writer, and combined these talents to provide an insight into some of the most prosaic issues. On his return from a trip to the São Francisco River, Caio Reisewitz brings back some monumental backland scenes.

Brought up as a photojournalist in Johannesburg, Santu Mofokeng discusses the representation of the black population and challenges the idea of social documentary. The ownership of land, economic marginalization and spirituality are just some of the political elements in his most recent work. Sent to Brasília to search through the National Archive, reporter Plinio Fraga dug up a surprising find: from the 15,000 photos recently released to the public, at least three of them prove that Brazilian children had been sent into exile and had been documented by the military dictatorship. Dorrit Harazim discusses the life of an American teacher that changed the course of history after finding two photographs: of a lynching in Indiana, Abel Meeropol wrote a song; of the orphans of a couple of spies, the poet-composer built his family.

For the past ten years, Guy Veloso has travelled throughout the country after penitents. The filmstrips show how the photographer deals with his subjects and uses them to build his narrative. A tragic melody also echoes in two other essays in the magazine. With a vast work, despite her short career, Francesca Woodman transformed her camera into her best friend. Keen to discuss the history of his country, the Lebanese-born Walid Raad constructed his fictional war works by displaying bombs that apparently had been left behind.

In 1931, August Sander spoke on the radio about the power of communication through photography. A decade later, during the war, the German photographer would be persecuted and part of his archive destroyed. As a tribute to one of the best portrait artists in the 20^th century, ZUM publishes for the first time a translation of a crucial lecture to understand Sander’s work.

PHOTOGRAPHY IS NAKED. This is what this latest issue of ZUM proclaims, as the image is stripped naked, turned inside out, looked at and debated in detail.

Known as a photographer who turned photography into a tool for political activism, Claudia Andujar is celebrated here with two rarely seen photo series. In the first, a woman assumes a metaphysical aura by using a technique of superimposing diapositives and filters. In the second, the collective subject is offset against the sky in Direita Street,  São Paulo.

To what extent what we see is independent from what we believe? In an exclusive interview, documentarist Errol Morris narrates his investigative obsession, clarifying controversies in the history of photography and journalism. Errol talks about the documentary quality of photography. What we see is not what we actually think we see. If not, let’s see.

News and blowing the whistle, technology and journalism often lead to a deadlock as presented in these two poignant essays. The author of the image on the front cover of this issue, Balazs Gardi, is a member of the Basetrack project, which uses mobile phones with apps to document a US battalion stationed in Afghanistan, providing the soldiers the chance to share information. In Ghana, South African Pieter Hugo shows the rather dark and obscure nature of the consumer world of electronics in a place where computers (such as the one I am writing with) are dispatched by the first world on their last lease on life. Also tragic and – I reluctantly admit – beautiful are these scenes of misfortune portrayed by the Mexican Enrique Metinides. With a magnificent grasp of drama, the photographer raises the bar in terms of crime reportage.

The idea that photography can be immediately understood is challenged in a number of features in this issue. German Thomas Demand puts on paper scenes from other photographs, in a game that hides and exposes the starting point. American Robert Smithson transforms his walking around the Hotel Palenque into a seminal lecture on art and architecture. Among the team of pilgrim photographers, the magazine presents the hotels photographed by João Castilho and a photo-journey made by Mauro Restiffe, at the invitation of ZUM, through the Luz neighbourhood in São Paulo, which has already dissipated the echoes of its troubled days.

Few photographers are capable of showing the real world and, at the same time, inventing a new reality. This is what William Eggleston achieved by using color photography while traveling through the South of the US. He presents here diapositives that were kept for nearly 40 years. If Eggleston’s delicate irony makes you smile, the essayist Terry Castle will make you laugh. A search for the punctum in his collection of anonymous photographs is proof that humor and perspicacity go hand in hand.

Errol Morris provides one of the most resonant phrases in this issue: “False ideas adhere to photographs like flies to flypaper”. Turn the page, help to free the flies and return them to their proper place.

PHOTOGRAPHY IS AN ACCIDENT. Not as suggested by the photo by Jeff Wall on the front cover of the magazine. But more like a fire, such as this, rifling through the files of filmmaker and photographer Jorge Bodanzky. From journalism to art, from scientific researches to social media, satellites to mobile phones, photography has taken unexpected twists and turns over time and has spread like wildfire.

ZUM is a biannual publication by the Instituto Moreira Salles dedicated to the world of photography. The magazine will bring unpublished or little known visual essays, as well as articles, interviews, and important texts on the history of photography. ZUM also provides a forum for debate on contemporary photography, which is open to everyone and anyone who believes in critical reflection on photography, and that is enriched by other fields such as cinema, literature and the visual arts. Commentaries will contribute to the better thinking on images, as presented in the table lamp of Authentication or in the chandelier of Ivan Sayers, in two photographs by Jeff Wall shown here for the first time.

With an intellectually refined universe, Jeff Wall has firmly rooted himself in the contemporary art photography scene. A counterpoint to him in this issue is the brutal reality of images of prisoners in Cambodia, scanned from the original negatives. As presented in this horrific documentation of the Cambodian genocide, photography here has to face a fundamental ethical issue.

In Brazilian paths, we see Luiz Braga’s new green forest, Miguel Rio Branco’s luminous intimacy, and swim buoys in the Piscinão de Ramos, a huge outdoor salt-water “swimming pool” in Rio de Janeiro photographed by Julio Bittencourt. Geoff Dyer talks about a series of images originally taken by Google cars that received a award on photojournalism; on the other side of the world, Japanese Kohei Yoshyiuki steps into a new kind of voyeur. Robert Frank, who withdrew from the world and from the idea of a perfect image after publishing The Americans, displays his late style in delicate polaroid photos of daily life.

Photography is also spoken words. The interview with Bernd and Hilla Becher is a frank lesson on the motivations of this couple that still gives the tone of contemporary photography. From the pages of history, Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibits his talent as a writer. In a good-natured fashion, he claimed to be responsible for providing information to a cacophonic and frenetic world, full of people who seek the company of images. Sixty years ago or so, he was already talking about us.