Goseong Choi was born in Sungnam, South Korea, 1984. He currently lives and works in New York. He received M.F.A. in Photography from Pratt Institute. Choi received national and international awards and he has taken a part in various exhibitions in USA , Czech Republic, South Korea and Malaysia, and international photo festivals in France and Guatemala. Today we feature his series titled, Woods the walls and wells. ![]()
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Woods the Walls and Wells
One day, I heard a scratching noise coming from the closet. It seemed that a mouse hadfallen in somehow, and was trapped inside the walls. After a few days, the desperate scratching that made me so nervous had stopped. Time passed and I forgot all about the scratching, but then I began to smell something putrid. The mouse must have died, trapped inside the walls. The stench grew thicker and thicker for a week or two before suddenly dissipating. All the noise and stink that had invaded my personal space had subsided, finally. I found it interesting that I did not perceive its absence initially. When I realized the smell was gone, it somehow made me feel a little strange that there was no substantial evidence left, even though the intruder had been invisible and intangible from the beginning. In spite of that, I could sense that the spark of life had been extinguished after all the sounds of struggling, and death left its trace in the form of an unmistakable stench. The fact that even this fragment of evidence was gone soon after made me feel something deeper than simple acknowledgement of the absence of what was once present. Did any of this really happen?
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Everything happened behind the wall. It was an unknown space outside the boundary of my everyday life. In a way, it was a fictional territory; the wall was a border separating reality from illusion. All I could do was make assumptions about the unseen happenings beyond that border. I guessed it was the presence of a mouse by the sharp scratching noise, and I presumed its death when I encountered the rotten smell. The evidence that drew me into this event has vanished entirely by now. The absence of those sensory clues turned that space into a confusing realm of the unknown. I started to question my confidence in the memories of that experience. I felt trapped in my own uncertainty.
I began this project with the process of doubting sensory experiences, and by examining the confusion in between the borders of the physical space and the psychological realm. I perceived and then questioned both the presence of what was now absent, and the absence of what was once present. During my journeys, I searched for blind spots in consciousness, and from those points I tried to become aware of the substantialization of warp and slip. This examination led me to quite surreal experiences. I was curious about the correlation of the inner-self and the outside world; nature provided visualization to these questions.
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Once I was lost in the middle of trail on a mountain. There was intermittent damage left over from a flood, and the trail was washed out. No one else was there and I couldn’t get any phone reception. I kept walking on, but it seemed like I was circling around the same spot. Great beads of sweat stood on my forehead. I thought I had stepped into a labyrinth. The idea that there was no escape put weights on my feet and narrowed my sight. I experienced a swirl in the flow of time, and a sudden disruption in the logic of geographic space. All my surroundings grew to become the subject of confusion and doubt. My sense of reality was completely obliterated. I felt as though I had separated from my original self, abandoning it somewhere in the beginning. “I have to get back,” I was compelled to say.
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"...But go past a certain point and you'll lose the path out. It's a labyrinth. Do you know where the idea of a labyrinth first came from?"
I shake my head.
"It was the ancient Mesopotamians. They pulled out animal intestines-sometimes human intestines, I expect-and used the shape to predict the future. They admired the complex shape of intestines. So the prototype for labyrinths is, in a word, guts. Which means that the principle for the labyrinth is inside you. And that correlates to the labyrinth outside."
"Another metaphor," I comment.
"That's right. A reciprocal metaphor. Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into labyrinth inside. Most definitely a risky business." "
- Haruki Murakami
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To view more of Goseong's work please visit his website.
Woods the Walls and Wells
One day, I heard a scratching noise coming from the closet. It seemed that a mouse hadfallen in somehow, and was trapped inside the walls. After a few days, the desperate scratching that made me so nervous had stopped. Time passed and I forgot all about the scratching, but then I began to smell something putrid. The mouse must have died, trapped inside the walls. The stench grew thicker and thicker for a week or two before suddenly dissipating. All the noise and stink that had invaded my personal space had subsided, finally. I found it interesting that I did not perceive its absence initially. When I realized the smell was gone, it somehow made me feel a little strange that there was no substantial evidence left, even though the intruder had been invisible and intangible from the beginning. In spite of that, I could sense that the spark of life had been extinguished after all the sounds of struggling, and death left its trace in the form of an unmistakable stench. The fact that even this fragment of evidence was gone soon after made me feel something deeper than simple acknowledgement of the absence of what was once present. Did any of this really happen?
Everything happened behind the wall. It was an unknown space outside the boundary of my everyday life. In a way, it was a fictional territory; the wall was a border separating reality from illusion. All I could do was make assumptions about the unseen happenings beyond that border. I guessed it was the presence of a mouse by the sharp scratching noise, and I presumed its death when I encountered the rotten smell. The evidence that drew me into this event has vanished entirely by now. The absence of those sensory clues turned that space into a confusing realm of the unknown. I started to question my confidence in the memories of that experience. I felt trapped in my own uncertainty.
I began this project with the process of doubting sensory experiences, and by examining the confusion in between the borders of the physical space and the psychological realm. I perceived and then questioned both the presence of what was now absent, and the absence of what was once present. During my journeys, I searched for blind spots in consciousness, and from those points I tried to become aware of the substantialization of warp and slip. This examination led me to quite surreal experiences. I was curious about the correlation of the inner-self and the outside world; nature provided visualization to these questions.
Once I was lost in the middle of trail on a mountain. There was intermittent damage left over from a flood, and the trail was washed out. No one else was there and I couldn’t get any phone reception. I kept walking on, but it seemed like I was circling around the same spot. Great beads of sweat stood on my forehead. I thought I had stepped into a labyrinth. The idea that there was no escape put weights on my feet and narrowed my sight. I experienced a swirl in the flow of time, and a sudden disruption in the logic of geographic space. All my surroundings grew to become the subject of confusion and doubt. My sense of reality was completely obliterated. I felt as though I had separated from my original self, abandoning it somewhere in the beginning. “I have to get back,” I was compelled to say.
"...But go past a certain point and you'll lose the path out. It's a labyrinth. Do you know where the idea of a labyrinth first came from?"
I shake my head.
"It was the ancient Mesopotamians. They pulled out animal intestines-sometimes human intestines, I expect-and used the shape to predict the future. They admired the complex shape of intestines. So the prototype for labyrinths is, in a word, guts. Which means that the principle for the labyrinth is inside you. And that correlates to the labyrinth outside."
"Another metaphor," I comment.
"That's right. A reciprocal metaphor. Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into labyrinth inside. Most definitely a risky business." "
- Haruki Murakami
To view more of Goseong's work please visit his website.
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Steph with Berries
Berries
Sea
My work explores boundaries and pushes preconceived notions regarding personal relationships, how we relate to spaces, and to ourselves, in a way that always tends to be mediated by tension. Through photography I invite the viewer to consider their perception of each image that is inevitably intertwined with illusion. I concentrate on light, gesture, and the sublime to allow the photographs to speak, to ask the viewer to see something extraordinary in the ordinary.
Brooklyn Museum
Under
Desk
The First Touch of Winter
Back
Reflection
Wait
Two
Hot/Cold
To view more of Jeanette's work please visit her website.
The work I've submitted was shot in Kenya, between Nairobi and Olorgesailie, a small rural village 40 minutes driving from the capital city. With this series of documentary portraits and landscape, called Mzungu (white man in Swahili, and also the title of the shortfilm for which I was the stage photographer) I would like to underline the deep differences that occur in a country splitted between tradition and development.
To view more of Carlo's work please visit his website.
Early Routines
Early Routines considers areas of seen and unseen moments, the transparent line between what is remembered and what is forgotten. It's an attempt to rise out of reality and see things the way they really are. To challenge confussion and absurdities of every day life and to add some sort of truth to it.
Sometimes it's hard to resist the question: is this our today, tomorrow, and yesterday?
To view more of Martins work please visit his website.
It Runs in the Family
Observing my family through the camera gave me a new form of communication, and a perspective on the subjects that still fascinate me today: coming of age, tension, rivalry, protectiveness, absence, and intimacy. Seeing how these qualities carried universally, I began finding these things in other sets of siblings. By acknowledging and working with the feelings that lie underneath the surface of the traditional family portrait, the complicated bonds between the kids that grow up alongside one another become uncovered.
To view more of Sarah's work please visit her website.
My work is an introspective exercise that focuses on the feeling of mere adequacy in a hyper-competitive world. In a reality where better, faster, stronger and newer is placed on a pedestal, the work reflects on the struggle to ignore the fast pace and focus instead on life’s smaller details.This selection of photographs wanders between two countries - Portugal and the UK - and strives to showcase the everyday good and the everyday bad in the life of everyday people. With no preference of subject, my work is not defined by the photographed object, that can vary from landscapes to portraits or lifestyle details, but there is a constant draw to the color of the compositions.
To view more of Inês' work please visit her website.
Yael Malka (b.1990) and Cait Oppermann (b. 1989) met at Pratt Institute while they were studying photography. After graduating in 2012, they embarked on a 70-day backpacking trip across Turkey, Morocco and nine European countries.
Thereby Sea Blues was born. The book is a perfect bound, 4 color, silk-coated treasure. Looking through its pages are like a view into the diary of Yael and Cait throughout their journeys. The alluring imagery expresses the constant wonderment that traveling brings despite the apprehension of unknown places and people. Sea Blues captures the relationship between the two, the disorientation they felt, and the elasticity of time.
Title : “Sea Blues”, 2013
Size : 22.3 x 22.3 cm
Page Count : 88 Pages
*Includes 2 limited edition 8x10 prints*
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Untitled (Chevy Closeup)
Untitled (1960 Chevy)
Untitled (Apartment Interior)
California Dwelling
From 1978 to 1981, I photographed in a neighborhood that had an uncanny visual presence. The layering of ancient bungalows, postwar apartments, outdated cars, and contemporary suburban life made the place look like no one knew what decade it was.
The view from the sidewalk could be disarming. It seemed that time was holding its breath to accommodate random arrangements in a fleeting tableau. Looking at the groundglass I often felt that I was engulfed in a virtual space rather than aiming at a subject, as if I had stumbled onto a stage set or into someone else’s memory.
For four years I looked and photographed. My interest was aesthetic at first, inspired by the color photography emerging during the 70s and the unexpected beauty of my surroundings. But I soon realized that I was also documenting a fragile corner of southern California that would soon be
overwritten. I made prints from about one hundred negatives and put everything into storage for thirty years. In 2010, I began the slow process of having the negatives drum scanned, restored, and archivally printed, bringing the long erased streetscapes back to life.
Untitled (400 Apartment at Night)
Untitled (Doran Street)
Untitled (Tailfin and Hill)
Untitled (Blue Buick)
Untitled (Illuminated Doorbell)
Untitled Beige Pontiac and Apartment
Untitled (Sears)
Untitled (Stardust Jungle)
Untitled (Lincoln)
To view more of Tim's work please visit his website.
Untitled, Alaska, 2013
Eagles (My Mother’s Hands), Alaska, 2013
Polaris
Polaris is an exploration of otherworldly occurrences in the wilderness of the Far North. Traversing remote landscapes in Alaska and Iceland by foot, alone or with my family, I seek moments that seem to fall away from reality around the edges, into another realm. Alone on these journeys, I contemplate how the dynamic contrasts and fleeting elements of the Far North impart a heightened sense of being alive, and reflect upon the peculiar combination of wonder, fear, and respect that the landscape invokes. Polaris, the North Star, functions as a metaphor for the constancy of magic that I perceive in an environment that is otherwise in constant flux.
This is an ongoing project.
In the Kitchen, Iceland, 2013
Gus (My Grandmother’s Owl), Alaska, 2013
Sleeping Circle, Iceland, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
Treasure, Alaska, 2013
The End, Iceland, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
My Father in the Ice Cave, Alaska, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
Untitled, Iceland, 2013
To view more of Acacia's work please visit her website.
Senior America
In this project, I was interested in exploring older women aging with confidence as we are inundated with images of women in a much younger slice of life. After researching organizations for senior women I came upon the Ms. Senior America association whose motto is 'Aging with Elegance'. I was drawn to the idea of seeing women 60 plus embracing age and community in a format usually associated with youth and stereotypes. This section of the project is a look at the Ms. Senior New York branch contestants, pageant winner and the Seasoned Steppers who are a dance troop involved with the organization.
To view more of Jenny's work please visit her website.
Creation Myths, 2013, digital c-print, 45 x 30”
ream of Vissen en Vogel, 2013, digital c-print, 45 x 30”
Sound Memory, 2013, digital c-print, 30 x 45”
My artwork is an attempt to reconcile my physical surroundings with the fears, fascinations, curiosities, and daydreams occupying my mind. The photographs and constructions consist of common artifacts, materials, and scenes from everyday life, which have been rearranged and reassembled into various forms, patterns, and illustrations. The images aim to examine the distance between where my mind wanders to and the material objects that inspire those fixations. Equally important to this work are the ‘big picture’ and the ‘little things’—the mundane and relatable artifacts of our daily lives, and more mysterious notions of life and existence. This work is about creating order where we expect to find randomness, and also hints that the minutiae all around us is capable of communicating much larger ideas.
Paradigm Shift, 2012, digital c-print, 40 x 30”
The Future, 2012, digital c-print with frame and yarn, 11 x 14”
Nested, 2012, digital c-print, 24 x 36”
A Good Deed in a Weary World, 2011, digital c-print
Home, 2011, digital c-print, 40 x 30”
The Ocean, 2010, digital c-print, 24 x 36”
Elsewhere, 2010, digital c-print, 36 x 24”
Driving at Night, 2009, digital c-print, 24 x 36”
The Heart, 2008, digital c-print, 40 x 30”
Chromosomes, 2004, c-print, 24 x 30”
To view more of Kevin's work please visit his website.
Lincoln Memorial I
Wall Street I
National Trust
My project National Trust began in the darkness of the Lincoln Memorial. The memorial can easily feel like a reverential place, but Lincoln’s colossal marble statue dwarfs the people who come there and his words tower above them, so there’s a psychologically charged drama about power that’s played out between the space itself and its visitors. The memorial is fascinating, precisely because it is such a complicated place and it sets the stage for what National Trust is mostly about: the ongoing trust that we place in institutions to represent the United States, and to represent us, the people.
Reporter II
Curtain
I’ve made this work during a period of increasingly broken trust that the American people bestow in authoritative institutions: financial systems, government, mainstream media. And yet, we are still tied to these institutions, which trade on carefully crafted surface appearances. In a basic way, my pictures, like any photograph, describe surfaces: architectural forms recall the grandeur of Greco-Roman temples, and political rallies and press conferences exist as meticulously staged theatre sets. However, my pictures also call attention to the enduring role that surface appearances play in the telling and retelling of history. I depict these surfaces as existing amidst an atmosphere of mystery and darkness that recurs throughout the body of work, and this aesthetic mirrors my feeling that there is a continuing and profound erosion of trust in American society.
4th of July
Members Only
Five Dollars
Reporter I
Arm
Ceiling
Lincoln Memorial III
Press Conference
To view more of Jay's work please visit his website.
These photographs were made during a six week road trip through the US. We set off in Atlanta, crossed the southern states, and arrived in San Francisco by the end of May, 2013.
I could define my way of working as one of free expression and aimless wandering. Strolling around and identifying situations, compositions and details of the world surrounding us. Isolated in the frame of the photograph and cut off from the context I transform a banal reality into something enigmatic.
To view more of Joris's work please visit his website.
Here and There
Here and There is an ongoing series of images that I take while traveling. They are mostly made on the West coast and Southwestern parts of the US. They are fluid landscapes that are made to capture the beauty of the land and moments I find solace in.
To view more of Kate's work please visit her website.
Ad Infinitum
These deserted cemeteries house many tiny portraits. Portraits, personal and often intimate, that were never meant to be used as a memorial. A single image selected to convey a whole life. Out of the context of the cemetery and away from the idea of death. The focus lies on the portrait itself, people in their present. Over time the portraits are exposed to rain, sun, extreme temperatures and humidity. The portraits become abstract. In the end, we are left with the simple abstract beauty of the image as such.
The portrait series in the book exposes both the strength of the individual face and the perishable nature of the individual human body. The fading images reference mortality of human life, and the limitations of our impact. Subconsciously, our interest in the individual fades as the portraits become less clear. It is quietly replaced by our draw to the beauty of the abstract image. We will be remembered only by the children of our children. As the faces fade further, anonymity returns and once again we become part of nature.
To view more of Kris' work please visit his website.
It is interesting that you start literature as your major and end up becoming a photographer. How do you start photography and how does literature influence your photography?
I started taking photos since I was in high school. It lasts as a hobby ever since and becomes my profession now. I study Literature of Theatre Film and Television in Beijing Film Academy. I took a lot film-related courses and shoot short videos. The experience of learning film has a great influence on the form of my photographic style. For example, I learned that every single frame of the movie is carefully designed. Every detail from the set, lighting to color tone should reflect the mood and emotion of the character at that moment. The picture is externalization of the inner character. When I take photos, I will unconsciously adapt the filmmaking method. I believe photographs tell stories. The “stories” are not only the messages from the image, but more importantly they arouse imagination beyond the image itself. Finding the relationship between picture and narrative has always been my interest.
If we compare your photography style to a type of literature, what will it be?
I prefer to call myself a poet. Comparing with telling a story, I prefer to capture many unrelated abstract moment/fragments, think of how to put them together and build relationship between them in the process of editing. Each word has its own meaning but when you put them together, it makes a new meaning. It is the same with photography. Sometimes I feel editing is more interesting than photographing itself.
What are your inspirations?
My inspirations mainly come from my observation of life and nature. I am influenced a lot by Japanese artists. I focused on the study of Japanese culture while I was at school. The emptiness and unspoken tranquility in Japanese aesthetic is very fascinating to me. Another thing, which I figure out recently, is that I grew up by reading Japanese comic books. The storyboard and rhythm of comic books actually have a lot of things in common with film. The presentation of atmosphere and mood in some comic books are very appealing, which more or less have an impact on me. I still think comics are a neglected art form.
Are there any particular artists that influence you?
Rinko Kawauchi and Yoshihiko Ueda give me a lot of inspirations. Their works present unique views of the world and understanding of life and death.
You seem to have several ongoing projects at the same time. How do you start your project and what is your creative process like?
My way of shooting is very casual. I bring camera with me when I hang out and shoot things that interests me. I scan them, divide them into different themes and figure out how to edit and sequence them. In this process, I gradually find the common points of interest in the photos that I choose. Through the photos I take, I gain a better understanding of myself. I am more and more clear about what I truly like and want to express.
It is interesting that you work backwards to find your intention through the photos you took. What do you truly like and want to express then?
It is hard to articulate. I am always intrigued by the mystery of nature. Just as Einstein said, “We see the universe marvelously arranged and obeying certain laws, but only dimly understand these laws.” I bring this thought to find the scenes I desire to shoot. On the other hand, daily snapshot is also my favorite way of shooting. We are easily overwhelmed by trivia and habits. Photography helps us regain the perception of life.
You photographed a lot of girls. What is the relationship between you and your subjects?
Most of the girls in my photos are my friends. Young girl is a creature that, as most of the mysterious things in nature, is beautiful and powerful with perishable sentimentality.
What do you intend to express in project Tinnitus?
Tinnitus is a snapshots series that I shoot on 135 films. Different from the more constructed works shot on 120 films, these snapshots are full of random and uncertainty. They are the unexpected noises in life. Sometimes after the films are developed, I find things that I did not notice during shooting. The feeling of out of control is very interesting.
You made two photo books. Hometown Book has a lot of interesting handmade details, while the design of Bygones is more minimal, with diptych of portraits with still life. What is your thought behind the design and how do you edition your photo books?
Bygones is the first indie photo book I made. The photos are all square format, so I decide to weaken the sense of design and use the layout that emphasizes the photos themselves. In the process of editing and sequencing, I try to find connections between portraits and landscapes, constructing my own “imagined geography.” For Bygones, I made limited editions (100 copies). It sells pretty well. I might print more for the next photo book.
Hometown Book is made for Hometown project organized by Ofpix, a documentary photo studio in China. I put a lot of my personal emotions about my hometown and childhood into this book. They are shown by words, plants, childhood toys and even little notes that I and my classmates used to pass in junior high school. Compare to published books, handmade books have more possibilities in terms of presentations. It is more three dimensional, like sculpture, above which I can sculpt freely.
How do you think of self-publishing?
Like many photographers, I use photo books as a way to sort and summarize works of a certain period. After all, viewing photos as prints is very different from viewing them on the screen. I think self-publishing is becoming a trend.
How do you promote your photo book and works?
I sold my photo books through social media as well as some indie book stores, which get me chances to showcase my books in book fairs all around the world.
You work as a photographer now. How do you balance your artistic creation with your job?
I shoot for clients as well as making personal works. I try to find a certain connection between them. I do not do things that I do not believe in—this is probably the only way to maintain the realistic life.
What is next?
I am working on a new project trying to combine photography and literature together. I also want to try different types of works, such as shooting on set or working in other fields.
To view more of Du's work please visit her website.
Zhenjie Dong is a Chinese artist exploring ways to express her social and political concerns through photography. She spoke at TEDxCreative Coast 2012 about her work Recreating Myth and the philosophy behind it. Her works have been exhibited in the Atlanta Photography Group Gallery and the North Carolina Museum of Art. Her video work Illness has been shown at Lumen Prize moving Image Art Festival in Hong Kong. And her work is part of the global tour of the Lumen Prize Exhibition, travelling around the world in United Kingdom, Latvia, China and Wales.
Come Again When You Can't Stay So Long
Through photography and text, Come Again When You Can't Stay So Long documents my return to Kansas after a long absence to visit my grandmother, GG (a main character from my film). It explores themes of attachment and avoidance, as GG, in the declining years of her life, and me, a new parent, confront the shared grief over our broken relationships with my mother, from whom we are both once again estranged. It reflects my ambivalence about the meaning of family, mothers and daughters, and autobiographical art.
GG doesn't have a five year plan but she knows she doesn't want to move to the Meadowlark Hills Retirement Community where her independence will be taken away. A devout Mormon, she raised 6 kids and has been widowed since 1995. Her house is in order. I was there to document this time in her life when our paths crossed, possibly for one last time.
Tara has received numerous awards and grants including a Jerome Foundation New York City Media Arts Award, the Vermont Community Foundation, and an Anthony Radziwill Documentary Fund production grant for her films. Her photos have appeared in the New York Times, Shots Magazine, Oranbeg Press and The American Guide. She has exhibited in New England, West Virginia, New York, and most recently participated in the Little Brown Mushroom Camp for Socially Awkward Storytellers, hosted by Alec Soth.
To view more of Taras work please visit her website.
Kate
Untitled
I enjoy remembering trivial and ordinary days of my childhood. Since I was seven, I have been collecting sentences and paragraphs about sorrow from novels and lyrics. I found the grown-up world and the cruel reality of society sophisticatedly beautiful, so I brought the melancholic childlike mood into my photographs as a shelter. After years of constantly moving, I go to different places alone to search for the scenes that are connected to my childhood. By presenting the collection of nostalgic places and passersby, I reexamined and recollect the reflections of my childhood memory, expressing my current understanding about life and future.
Rainy Days
Kara
Holly
Shadow
Family Portrait
Parachute
Kate
Grandfather
Moganshan
To view more of Amikos's work please visit his website.
Eliot Dudik was named one of PDN's 30 New and Emerging Photographers to Watch in 2012. His first monograph, Road Ends In Water, was published in 2010. This series has enjoyed much recognition through exhibitions across the country, as well as several publications such as Fraction Magazine, Magenta Magazine, and One, One Thousand: A Publication of Southern Photography. This work was also featured in issue No.2 of Aint-Bad Magazine.
Road Ends in Water is an unassuming exploration of rural South Carolina’s culture and landscape. The book is a full color, perfect bound monograph made in a hand-numbered edition of 1000. With his large format camera, Dudik is able to capture the charm of the South with ease despite the area being subjected to highway expansion. His connection to these people and the land they inhabit is plainly seen. Eliot's book is now available for purchase through Aint-Bad Editions. Each copy is signed and numbered.
Title : “Road Ends In Water”, 2010
Size : 28 x 21.6 cm
Page Count : 96 Pages
Publisher : SAGA
Edition : 1,000, Signed and numbered
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