TIME Picks the Top 10 Photos of 2012

2 minute read

Ten percent of all of the photographs made in the entire history of photography were made last year — an astounding figure. More than ever before, thanks in part to cell phone technology, the world is engaged with photography and communicating through pictures.

Nonetheless, a great photograph will rise above all the others. The ten photographs we present here are the pictures that moved us most in 2012. They all deliver a strong emotional impact — whether they show a child mourning his father who was killed by a sniper in Syria (slide #3); a heartbreaking scene in a Gaza City morgue (slide #1); a haunting landscape of New Jersey coastline after Hurricane Sandy, a rollercoaster submerged under the tide (slide #2); or a rare glimpse of President Obama moments before he goes out on stage during a campaign rally (slide #9). We spoke to each of the photographers about their images, and their words provide the captions here.

Over the past several days, we’ve unveiled TIME’s Best Photojournalism and Best Portraits of the Year galleries on LightBox. And in the next three weeks, we will be rolling out even more end-of-year features: the Most Surprising Pictures of the Year; the Best Photo Books of the Year; the Top 10 Photographic Magazine Covers of the Year and other compelling galleries. We will also recognize TIME’s choice for the Best Wire Photographer of the Year. Senior photo editor Phil Bicker is curating many of these galleries with help from the photo team at TIME. His discerning eye has been responsible for the curation of TIME’s Pictures of the Week throughout the year, galleries that regularly present the best of the week’s images, with surprising and sometimes offbeat takes on the news. We will round off the year on December 31 with our second-annual “365: Year in Pictures,” a comprehensive look at the strongest picture of every day of 2012.

Kira Pollack, Director of Photography

APTOPIX Mideast Israel Palestinians
Bernat Armangue. Gaza City. Nov. 18, 2012. Covering a conflict has never been a pleasure, but since I became a father a year ago, war has become even harder to cover. This day was particularly complicated; 11 members of the Daloo family had been killed when an Israeli missile struck the family's two-story home in Gaza City, and I spent most of the day taking pictures of bodies being pulled out from beneath the rubble. I took this picture at the end of the day. The morgue was crowded and very noisy. Behind me, a few journalists were filming and taking pictures of four dead children of the Daloo family. In front of me, a group of men that had just stormed into the room were facing the cruel reality of discovering the dead body of a loved one. Everything was happening very fast, but I remember seeing a teardrop falling over the inert hand and whispering "ma'a salama" (goodbye in Arabic). I've always thought that war brings out the best and the worst in humans. To me, this was a sad and tender moment of love.Majed Hamdan—AP
Stephen Wilkes. Seaside Heights, N.J., November 2012. IÕve covered disasters in other parts of our country, but Sandy devastated my hometown, it was a storm of historical significance. How does one begin to comprehend the scale of this storm? The only way for me was to capture SandyÕs destructive fury from above. On the Sunday after Sandy made landfall, I rented a helicopter and flew over some of the most devastated areasÑit was everything IÕd heard about, yet it was difficult to believe what I was actually seeing. Once we were above the shoreline, the scale of the destruction quickly came into focus. The expanse of land it ruined, the totality of the devastation Ñ it was like a giant mallet had swung in circles around the entire coast. I was particularly drawn to Casino Pier, and the Jet Star rollercoaster, where this photograph was taken. As I flew over the area, the ocean appeared dead calm; there were no waves, the water looked as if I was in the Caribbean, not the Atlantic. That contrast in itself was surreal to experience, and I was reminded of the iconic image in the film Planet of The Apes. Charlton Heston, riding horseback along a deserted shoreline, suddenly sees a charred structure rising out of the water, the torch of the Statue of Liberty. In a strange way this image shares a parallel universe, perhaps a warning from post-apocalyptic Earth.
Stephen Wilkes. Seaside Heights, N.J., November 2012. I've covered disasters in other parts of our country, but Sandy devastated my hometown, it was a storm of historical significance. How does one begin to comprehend the scale of this storm? The only way for me was to capture Sandy's destructive fury from above. On the Sunday after Sandy made landfall, I rented a helicopter and flew over some of the most devastated areas - it was everything I'd heard about, yet it was difficult to believe what I was actually seeing. Once we were above the shoreline, the scale of the destruction quickly came into focus. The expanse of land it ruined, the totality of the devastation - it was like a giant mallet had swung in circles around the entire coast. I was particularly drawn to Casino Pier, and the Jet Star rollercoaster, where this photograph was taken. As I flew over the area, the ocean appeared dead calm; there were no waves, the water looked as if I was in the Caribbean, not the Atlantic. That contrast in itself was surreal to experience, and I was reminded of the iconic image in the film Planet of The Apes. Charlton Heston, riding horseback along a deserted shoreline, suddenly sees a charred structure rising out of the water, the torch of the Statue of Liberty. In a strange way this image shares a parallel universe, perhaps a warning from post-apocalyptic Earth.Stephen Wilkes for TIME
APTOPIX Mideast Syria
Rodrigo Abd. Idlib, Syria. March 8, 2012. Ahmed's tears, which mourn his dead father who was killed by Syrian army snipers, fell on a park transformed into a cemetery in the city of Idlib, which had been under siege by government forces since March. The child's cry mingled with the cries of the Free Syrian Army fighters, the elderly, his schoolmates and a community devastated by almost two years of this conflict, which started in the framework of the Arab Spring and transformed into a cruel civil war. This is quite a direct picture—one that tries to approach this armed conflict in a very human and simple level, amid a conflict fraught with very profound geopolitical interests in today's world.Rodrigo Abd—AP
A Free Syrian Army fighter fires his sniper rifle from a house in Aleppo
Goran Tomasevic. Azaz, Syria. Aug. 15, 2012. I was following a group of fighters with Ghaith Abdul-Ahad, a great Iraqi journalist. The men took up position in a family living room. One rebel sat on the chair eating a chocolate bar, the commander looking out the window to scout the area while a rebel fired from the window. They told me the room was a former Syrian army position and that they had killed three soldiers in the house when they took over the building earlier that day. I could see tracks of blood in the corridor. There was no one else in the house except the rebels while I was there.Goran Tomasevic—Reuters
Martin Schoeller. Des Moines, Iowa. Spring 2012. I took this portrait of Gabby Douglas in Des Moines, Iowa, where she was living with a host family, in order to train under local coach Liang Chow. Though only 16, she left her family in Virginia to pursue her dream: competing in the London Olympic games this summer. Despite the growing pressure and all-consuming training, she was incredibly relaxed and easy-going. I like the image because it tries to detail the mysterious ways athletes of this caliber carry their round-the-clock determination and discipline into their most daily routines.
Martin Schoeller. Des Moines, Iowa. Spring 2012. I took this portrait of Gabby Douglas in Des Moines, Iowa, where she was living with a host family, in order to train under local coach Liang Chow. Though only 16, she left her family in Virginia to pursue her dream: competing in the London Olympic games this summer. Despite the growing pressure and all-consuming training, she was incredibly relaxed and easy-going. I like the image because it tries to detail the mysterious ways athletes of this caliber carry their round-the-clock determination and discipline into their most daily routines.Martin Schoeller for TIME
Parrish Ruiz de Velasco. Lancaster, Texas. April 3, 2012. It was like any other spring day in North Texas Ñ hot, humid and the weather was ripe for a classic Midwest storm. Within hours, 13 confirmed tornadoes touched down across the Dallas-Fort Worth area. My adventure began approximately 15 miles south from where the photo was ultimately taken. I turned my flashers on and pulled over to shoot pictures of the ominous clouds that were painted in front of me. Within seconds the sky spit out an incredible twister. I didn't have a clear view and seeing half a tornado wasn't good enough. I followed emergency vehicles, took back roads and, before I knew it, I was in the tornadoÕs direct path with a perfect view from the ground up. By day's end, I took more than 250 photos. My entire adventure and additional images can be seen here.
Parrish Ruiz de Velasco. Lancaster, Texas. April 3, 2012. It was like any other spring day in North Texas - hot, humid and the weather was ripe for a classic Midwest storm. Within hours, 13 confirmed tornadoes touched down across the Dallas-Fort Worth area. My adventure began approximately 15 miles south from where the photo was ultimately taken. I turned my flashers on and pulled over to shoot pictures of the ominous clouds that were painted in front of me. Within seconds the sky spit out an incredible twister. I didn't have a clear view and seeing half a tornado wasn't good enough. I followed emergency vehicles, took back roads and, before I knew it, I was in the tornado's direct path with a perfect view from the ground up. By day's end, I took more than 250 photos. My entire adventure and additional images can be seen here.Parrish Ruiz de Velasco
Dominic Nahr. Heglig, Sudan. April 17, 2012. It was April, and I was speeding north towards a small border war between Sudan and South Sudan that most of the world didn't even realize was happening. Bodies, dozens and dozens, lined the gravel highway. Less than a handful of journalists had found their way here, let alone photographers. Whereas other wars I've covered blanketed front pages, this was different. Each snap was significant; once again, Sudanese were dying. Once again, few knew. I had to document it. I'd hitched a ride with South Sudanese soldiers, who had just captured the Heglig oil town from the Sudanese army. On the way to the front lines, while careening enemy corpses left rotting as a post-mortem insult, I glimpsed a damaged oil facility. But the soldiers had little patience for me; there was no stopping. Later that afternoon, waiting for an imminent counter-attack, the commander ordered us back south. This time, I convinced the driver to stop; they, too, wanted to see this curious mechanical casualty of war. I jumped down, walking cautiously towards the burst pipe. Only then did I see the body, draped in sticky black. The clouds skimmed over the harsh white Sudanese sun, and I took the photo. There was the conflict, in front of me.
Dominic Nahr. Heglig, Sudan. April 17, 2012. It was April, and I was speeding north towards a small border war between Sudan and South Sudan that most of the world didn't even realize was happening. Bodies, dozens and dozens, lined the gravel highway. Less than a handful of journalists had found their way here, let alone photographers. Whereas other wars I've covered blanketed front pages, this was different. Each snap was significant; once again, Sudanese were dying. Once again, few knew. I had to document it. I'd hitched a ride with South Sudanese soldiers, who had just captured the Heglig oil town from the Sudanese army. On the way to the front lines, while careening enemy corpses left rotting as a post-mortem insult, I glimpsed a damaged oil facility. But the soldiers had little patience for me; there was no stopping. Later that afternoon, waiting for an imminent counter-attack, the commander ordered us back south. This time, I convinced the driver to stop; they, too, wanted to see this curious mechanical casualty of war. I jumped down, walking cautiously towards the burst pipe. Only then did I see the body, draped in sticky black. The clouds skimmed over the harsh white Sudanese sun, and I took the photo. There was the conflict, in front of me.Dominic Nahr—Magnum for TIME
Colorado Shooting Funerals
RJ Sangosti. Denver, Colo. July 27, 2012. I, like most of my community, was still trying to make sense of why a gunman would walk into a crowded Aurora movie theater and fire randomly. Twelve people were killed and 58 wounded. It was hard for me to imagine a crime of this magnitude in a movie theater - a place that I myself go to escape life for a moment. One of the lives lost that night was of Jonathan Blunk, a five-year U.S. Navy veteran, who left behind a wife and two children. In this photograph, Chantel Blunk, Jonathan's wife, paused on the tarmac at Denver International Airport before boarding the same plane as her husband's body. The plane was bound for their home in Reno, Nev., where a full military funeral would take place. As this was occurring, a faint rainbow appeared over the hearse. In a moment of sorrow, a glimpse of Chantel's innocence and youth appeared despite the overwhelming process of military tradition and personal chaos she was trapped in.RJ Sangosti—The Denver Post
Callie Shell. Windham, N.H. Aug. 18, 2012. Sometimes it's hard to remember who that person is at the podiumÑthat [politicians] are real people. We had been to a couple campaign events that day. Here, President Obama was waiting to be introduced before going on stage at a campaign stop in Windham, N.H. As President, you spend a lot of time waiting for people to introduce you, so that's always the best time for photographers to be around him. He was talking to staff and Secret Service and seemed really at ease. I don't remember what he was laughing aboutÑwhen I'm photographing, I don't really listen, I watch for a moment.
Callie Shell. Windham, N.H. Aug. 18, 2012. Sometimes it's hard to remember who that person is at the podium—that [politicians] are real people. We had been to a couple campaign events that day. Here, President Obama was waiting to be introduced before going on stage at a campaign stop in Windham, N.H. As President, you spend a lot of time waiting for people to introduce you, so that's always the best time for photographers to be around him. He was talking to staff and Secret Service and seemed really at ease. I don't remember what he was laughing about—when I'm photographing, I don't really listen, I watch for a moment.Callie Shell for TIME
Li Wei
Francois Mori. Paris, France. March 20, 2012. I was told that in China, artists don't often comment on their work in order to let the spectator make their own interpretation. For this assignment with the Associated Press, my goal was to show that Li Wei was flying through the air over Paris. But with no crane available for me to shoot from and no buildings nearby, I decided to make a simple photo from the ground with the sky in background. It is Li Wei's concept of gravity-defying situations that I captured. So I could say, "if we look at it the simple way, sometimes we don't take photos, we receive them."Francois Mori—AP

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