TIME On Our Radar

Christian Patterson Wins Vevey International Photography Award

American photographer Christian Patterson takes away $42,000 grant

American photographer Christian Patterson has won the 2015-2016 Vevey International Photography Award.

The New York-based photographer received the Swiss grant of CHF 40,000 (around $42,000) to realize his project Gong Co, about a closed Chinese grocery store in the Mississippi Delta whose shelves remained stocked with decades-old products. “[The store] had become an unintentional museum, or something like a time capsule,” Patterson tells TIME.

“I try to seek out a subject matter that has multiple layers to explore and leads me to ideas not only for photographs but for documents, objects and installations as well,” he says. “When these various visual and physical threads are woven together, an ‘other’ world can be entered through the work, and that is what inspires and excites me right now.”

The photographer will have a year to realize the project, which will be previewed at the next Festival Images in the fall of 2016 in Vevey, Switzerland, with an immersive storefront installation, including actual products and objects from the shuttered shop.

Born in Fond du Lac, Wis., the self-taught photographer is most known for his book Redheaded Peckerwood, published by MACK, which won the Rencontres d’Arles Author Book Award in 2012. He was also a 2013 Guggenheim fellow.

“[Since Redheaded Peckerwood], we have all been waiting to see what his next project is, and it’s really exciting that [Gong Co] is going to land here in Vevey,” says Kira Pollack, director of photography and visual enterprise at TIME, who sat on this year’s jury.

Patterson was chosen from among 600 projects. “We saw an incredible range of work and a lot of different types of photography,” says Pollack.

The jury, chaired by American artist James Casebere, also included Julien Frydman, development director of the Luma Foundation in Arles, Marta Gili, director of Jeu de Paume gallery in Paris and Ramón Reverté, editor-in-chief of RM publishers in Mexico.

TIME society

See Mary Ellen Mark’s Most Memorable Photo Essay

The photographer, who has died at 75, opened a nation's eyes to the plight of its homeless youth

Mary Ellen Mark frequently photographed people on the fringes of society. By training her camera on those who went unseen, she willed them to be just the opposite.

In 1983, a collection of these photographs was published in a LIFE Magazine photo essay called “Streets of the Lost.” The unseen in this case were the homeless youth of Seattle. When Mark’s indelible images hit newsstands, a once-invisible population was brought to life by an unforgettable collection of very real human faces.

Mark, who died Monday at 75, chose Seattle for this project because it was known as one of America’s most livable cities. She wanted to show that if kids were living on the street there, then they were living on the streets of every major American city. She didn’t photograph from a distance, but rather implanted herself in the daily lives of her subjects, and this intimacy allowed her to capture portraits of them at their most vulnerable.

Mark photographed children holding guns, eating out of dumpsters and injecting their arms with needles. To provide context for the stories she told visually, journalist Cheryl McCall explained the situations that led them to resort to prostitution, theft and violence. They were running from abuse, from alcoholic parents and families who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—care for them. Though their reasons varied, they were all running from something.

The impact of “Streets of the Lost” was so great that Mark’s husband, Martin Bell, convinced Mark and McCall to join him in making a documentary film following up on the lives of several of Mark’s subjects. The result, Streetwise, was nominated for an Academy Award.

Mark and Bell continued to return to Seattle to photograph the young men and women they met there. As Mark told TIME this past March, speaking about another memorable portrait of a child, “Going back is something that’s always fascinating to me.” In 2013, she and Bell raised more than $85,000 on Kickstarter to develop a follow-up documentary focusing on the life of Erin “Tiny” Blackwell, who featured prominently in the original photos and film. Their final collaboration, titled Streetwise: Tiny Revisited, has yet to be released.

Mark’s portraits of these young people—Tiny and Rat, Laurie and Patti and Mike—are arresting without resorting to sensationalism. As Mark told TIME, “I don’t like to photograph children as children. I like to see them as adults, as who they really are. I’m always looking for the side of who they might become.”

TIME In Memoriam

In Memoriam: Mary Ellen Mark (1940 – 2015)

Ralph Gibson Mary Ellen Mark photographed in the Fall of 1967.

The American photographer produced some of the most "delicately shaded studies of vulnerability ever set on film"

Mary Ellen Mark, the celebrated photographer best known for her in-depth documentary projects and her portraiture, has died. She was 75.

A humanist photographer, Mark’s work had been widely published in LIFE, the New York Times Magazine, The New Yorker, Rolling Stone, and Vanity Fair. During her career, the photographer, who was born in Elkins Park, Penn., near Philadelphia, produced 18 books and was working on her 19th for Aperture. That final project was focused on Tiny, a young prostitute from Seattle whom she had photographed in Streetwise, her much admired opus published in 1988.

Working for LIFE Magazine, Mark had traveled to Seattle in 1983 to work on a story about runaway children. Along with reporter Cheryl McCall, she had chosen Seattle “because it is known as ‘America’s most livable city’,” she wrote in the preface to her book. “By choosing America’s ideal city we were making the point: ‘If street kids exist in a city like Seattle then they can be found everywhere in America, and we are therefore facing a major social problem of runaways in this country.”

Streetwise emerged from the assignment. “In every successful still photographic project that I have completed there has always been a turning point in the story where I felt that perhaps I was working on something that could be very special,” Mark wrote. Streetwise also became a documentary film, directed by the photographer’s husband Martin Bell.

Streetwise, in essence, was the continuation of a body of work commenced with Ward 81, another of Mark’s influential books. In 1976, Mark had spent six weeks in a women’s security ward of the Oregon State Mental Institution, then the only locked ward for women in the state. “I wanted to do an essay on the personalities of people who are locked away to show a little bit of what they’re like, especially the women,” Mark told TIME in 1978. “I didn’t want to show them as exotically crazy.”

TIME’s Robert Hughes, writing on the project, embraced Mark’s photographs. “What resulted was, in fact, a lamentation: one of the most delicately shaded studies of vulnerability ever set on film,” he wrote.

Mark joined Magnum Photos in 1977, becoming one of the agency’s few female photographers. But her time at collective would be brief: she left in 1981 to create her own studio.

“Mary Ellen lived hungrily, fully, and had this extraordinary will and determination,” says Melissa Harris, the editor-in-chief at Aperture Foundation, which published Streetwise in 1988 and will release Streetwise, Revisited this fall. “She wanted to work – she loved being a photographer. She was great with her subjects – working so intuitively – and was able to get at the essence of the people she was photographing, to tell their stories. It mattered to her to represent them faithfully and truly, and not just in the documentary visual sense, but distinguishing each individual for who he or she really was in the world. Her work is humane, all heart.”

She adds: “On another, equally important note, she was the most loyal and generous of friends.”

A devotee of film photography, Mark never truly converted to digital. “I’m staying with film, and with silver prints, and no Photoshop,” she told The Philadelphia Inquirer in 2008. “That’s the way I learned photography: You make your picture in the camera. Now, so much is made in the computer… I’m not anti-digital, I just think, for me, film works better.”

In 2014, she received the 2014 Lifetime Achievement in Photography Award from the George Eastman House as well as the Outstanding Contribution Photography Award from the World Photography Organization.

She is survived by her husband.

TIME LightBox will publish a tribute to Mary Ellen Mark’s extensive body of work on May 27.

TIME Autos

See Photos of the Ford Model T During Its Decades of Dominance

Production of the Tin Lizzie officially stopped in May of 1927

For years, Henry and Edsel Ford had been denying that the day was approaching. Asked whether they were working on a new model of car, after nearly two decades of producing the famous Model T, they kept mum. But, as TIME noted back then, “in the U. S. motor industry it is considered unpolitic for a manufacturer to say that he will do this or that. When he can produce, he talks.”

That changed in late May of 1927, the day that saw the creation of the last-ever, first-ever mass-market car. Over the nearly two decades since it had first been introduced in 1908, it had evolved somewhat—as can be seen in these photos—but it had never lost its signature look. Even though it took a little longer for the actual last Model T in the world to be produced, as various factories wound down those operations, the official date of production of the last Model T at the landmark Highland Park plant was May 26, 1927, according to Ford.

The end of an era came shortly after the company churned out its 15 millionth car, an event that was, TIME noted, celebrated in the only way that would be appropriate: by driving.

Besides being thus frank last week, Mr. Ford, hale again after his motor car accident two months ago…, went with his son Edsel to the Ford assembling plant; watched the 15,000,000th Ford car being completed. Father and son mounted to the seat, Edsel at the wheel, and drove to the Ford museum. There Mr. Ford took the driver’s seat of the first motor car that he ever manufactured, a two-cylinder contraption that he made and sold in 1903. He tinkled the doorbell that served Ford Car No. 1 as signal, and he and Edsel were off in their separate vehicles for a brief tour of the museum neighborhood.

Read more, from 1927, here in the TIME Vault: New Fords

A Ford Advertisement for Model T Automobile, circa 1909.
Fotosearch—Getty ImagesA Ford Advertisement for Model T Automobile, circa 1909.
TIME natural disaster

Witness the Aftermath of Severe Floods in Texas

Texas expanded its state of disaster declaration on Monday following unprecedented torrential rains over the weekend. On Tuesday, more than 30 million Americans were warned to brace for extreme weather, including flooding, hail and tornadoes

TIME Music

See Photos of Peggy Lee as a Rising Star in the 1940s

On what would have been the entertainer's 95th birthday, a look back at LIFE's photo essay of the "Busy Singer"

Norma Deloris Egstrom, born in Jamestown, N.D., on May 26, 1920, had a reason to leave her given name behind. After her mother’s death, when Egstrom was 4 years old, her alcoholic father and cruel stepmother made life at home difficult. When a local radio host suggested she go by Peggy Lee instead, the girl formerly known as Norma began a new and sunnier chapter.

LIFE profiled Lee in 1948, when she was 27 and already half a decade into her career as a singer. After two years singing with Benny Goodman’s band and a string of hits in the early 1940s, Lee released the song “Mañana” in January of 1948; it had sold more than a million copies by the time LIFE’s profile ran in March. She would go on to win three Grammys, an Oscar nomination and an induction into the Songwriters Hall of Fame, performing into the 1990s until failing health forced her to retire.

But the Lee who LIFE profiled was not just an incredibly successful singer. She was also a working mother: “Betweentimes Miss Lee sees as much as she possibly can of her 4-year-old daughter Nicki. When she cannot, Nicki plays herself to sleep with one of her mother’s records.”

Liz Ronk, who edited this gallery, is the Photo Editor for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.

TIME portfolio

Inside America’s Juvenile-Detention System

Richard Ross traveled to hundreds of facilities and photographed thousands of minors in American juvenile prisons

As a teacher, I regularly have conversations with my students about how art can and should function. What constitutes an object as belonging in a gallery as opposed to a community? Who instituted these boundaries? Is it possible to make art that occupies both worlds? Finally, can art in either world effect real change? None of these questions are easily answered, or even attempted. The photographic work of Richard Ross dares engage their premise.

Ross is an artist and a professor, though in every sense his work is framed by, and propelled forward with, the cause of social justice. His images (and teaching) have long provided access to invisible sights that regulate bodies through discipline and containment. His 2007 photographic body of work titled Architecture of Authority pictured schools, the corridors of mosques, meeting rooms in the U.N., segregation cells in Abu Ghraib and a capital-punishment death chamber. The images are bleak but arresting; their compositions and color palettes feel almost painterly.

While photographing at a detention center in El Paso for that project, Ross asked the director if he’d ever be so successful that he’d be out of a job and was told, “Not as long as Texas continues locking up 10-year-olds.” Subsequent research revealed that children as young as 7 can be charged as adults in 22 states. Ross launched his Juvenile in Justice series (followed by Girls in Justice) in that moment and worked on it for four years — traveling to hundreds of facilities and photographing thousands of minors — without publishing a single picture.

Artists like Ross will be the first to tell you: for the “fine artist” who makes work that engages themes of social inequality, there emerges an interesting (and often productive) conflict. How does one navigate worlds that tend to not only be cut off, but also in fact negate one another? In making art that operates within both commercial and nonprofit channels, Ross is sensitive to this potential discordance. Though he’s represented by a commercial gallery that sells his photographs as fine-art objects, Ross regularly licenses his pictures to socially progressive nonprofits and social-advocacy groups for free or at a nominal charge. In addition he deliberately exhibits his work in university museums. “Where better to show the work,” he relates, “but amongst a younger generation who are themselves in the midst of learning about sociology, education, race and gender studies, journalism, political science, social work and law?” Real social reform, after all, comes from some measure of cooperation between all these fields.

This strategy of collaboration is visible across Ross’s practice. He is currently working on several theatrical projects — one with Flex Dancers, another with preteens — with the director Peter Sellars. He has also collaborated with the sociologist Victor Rios (a fellow professor at the University of California at Santa Barbara) as well as his wife, the journalist Cissy Ross. The trio teaches a class at UCSB titled, simply, Justice. Though it’s offered through the art department, the students are equipped with multiple kinds of constructive tools: they learn to write, think visually and methodize their research on the topic. Guest speakers have included Piper Kerman, the author of Orange Is the New Black; a transgender prison guard at San Quentin; the clinical physiologist Maryam Kia-Keating; and the black-studies professor Gaye Theresa Johnson (the latter two speaking to trauma and the African-American experience, respectively). The class visits a juvenile-detention facility, where, says Ross, “they check everything at the door.”

It’s a feeling Ross has gotten used to. In meeting his subjects, whose faces do not appear in the final photographs, Ross is conscious to be respectful and never assert power over them. Rather, he takes off his shoes and sits on the floor while talking and shooting. “I give them authority over me,” he says (not an unimportant gesture in a place where the power usually flows the other direction). Mostly he listens. This exchange, perhaps more than anything else, is the sight of true creative, social and emotional collaboration.

Ultimately, the exchanges haunt Ross. “It is impossible to leave them,” he says. “Last week I was talking to a girl who has tried to kill herself repeatedly. She had been raped, homeless, beaten. She was sobbing, body-racking sobs. Because she needs mental-health assistance, is a female and a minor, I wasn’t allowed to touch her. All I wanted to do was hold her and tell her that it will be all right. But I’m not allowed to, and it won’t be all right.” These encounters can be emotionally draining and prompt a feeling of powerlessness, but Ross, who is one of the few conduits to their stories, cannot let up.

The answer to the initial question — how can we measure art’s possible impact on human beings and vice versa — is impossible to locate. However, what is clear is that Ross’s photographs make courageous strides toward change by inverting (or revealing) systems of power and returning to subjects their sense of worth and humanity.

For more about Richard Ross’s Juvenile In Justice project, visit his website.

Carmen Winant is an Assistant Professor of Visual Studies and Contemporary Art History at Columbus College of Art and Design.

TIME portfolio

See New York’s Beaches and Parks From Above

Tobias Hutzler photographed them from a helicopter

Memorial Day 2015 is upon us—and, with it, the unofficial start of the summer season. In New York City, thousands of people will crowd the five boroughs’ beaches and pools, putting behind them the long winter months and their freezing temperatures.

For German photographer Tobias Hutzler, Memorial Day is the perfect example of what makes New York so attractive. “I’m fascinated by the energy of this city,” he says. “It’s pure life.”

Ever since he moved to New York, Hutzler has been documenting how people interact with the city, often shooting from a ladder or a cherry picker to find a different angle.

A year ago, during Memorial Day, he took to the sky, boarding a helicopter to photograph the city’s parks, pools and beaches. “I’d open the door, strap myself, stand up and lean out so I could shoot straight down,” he tells TIME. “I wanted my images to be very graphic, so I shot around noon when the sun was straight up. There are no shadows, so it’s really about the people — the constellations of people.”

Hutzler’s images are devoid of any distracting landmarks or features, concentrating instead on New Yorkers and how they appropriate these spaces. “I like the abstraction of it,” he says. “It’s not about the iconic places. I’m really interested in the people and the energy. My work is a study of the variety of life, and that’s what makes New York City such a great place: this juxtaposition of colors and people. It’s so beautiful and complex.”

To produce these images, Hutzler partnered with the firm NYonAir, which owns a fleet of helicopters. “The pilots know what I’m looking for, they know the visuals I like,” he says. “To get these images, you have to hover at a certain altitude and at a certain angle. I’m working with a very long lens, and I have heavy stabilizers on the cameras as it can be very shaky.”

Hutzler works fast. His subjects often have no idea he’s there, hanging from a helicopter 300 feet above ground. “It’s a quick shot and we’re already gone,” he says. “It’s like shooting on the streets.”

Tobias Hutzler is a German advertising and editorial photographer based in New York.

Kira Pollack, who edited this photo essay, is TIME’s Director of Photography and Visual Enterprise.

Olivier Laurent is the editor of TIME LightBox. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram @olivierclaurent

TIME movies

Take a First Look at Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp

New photos from the Netflix prequel series

In the new photos for Netflix’s Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp, all your favorite Camp Firewood counselors look fresh-faced, eager to take on the summer, and, well, older. Time is an abstract concept in the Netflix series, a prequel to Michael Showalter and David Wain’s 2001 movie, which took place on the last day of camp.

The movie’s original stars are back for the eight episodes. So you’ll see Amy Poehler and Bradley Cooper’s musical theater enthusiasts Susie and Ben sharing a keyboard, Christopher Meloni’s nutty Gene doing the splits with a precariously placed knife, Paul Rudd’s jerk Andy massaging Marguerite Moreau’s Katie, and more familiar—if more mature—faces.

The series debuts on July 31.

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