Kent, England, 1968 — Elliott Erwitt


Camellia House — Eudora Welty


Frida with Globe, Coyoacan, Mexico — Manuel Alvarez Bravo

Chicago — Harry Callahan


Cucumbers — Pierre Dubreuil

India in Woodstock — Amanda Charchian


Via; more.

Untitled – Gregory Crewdson

Sacred Trees (Under Water) — JoAnn Verburg

Atlanta — Harry Callahan


Eleanor — Harry Callahan


“I Didn’t Want My Appearance to Be Framed” — Derrida on Photography

“Searching for Suttree” — Wes Morgan Photographs Cormac McCarthy’s Knoxville

University of Tennessee professor Wes Morgan has documented some of the key locations in Cormac McCarthy’s novel Suttree. A few samples, but check out his website for more–

"Suttree's Home" (#1 on the map) -- This photograph is taken looking east from the Henley Street Bridge. It shows the Gay Street Bridge in the background with Volunteer Landing at the center. It is on this left bank of the Tennessee River, about where Volunteer Landing is located, that Suttree docked his houseboat. The suicide (p. 9) jumped from the Gay Street Bridge and the "...edge of the railroad" (p. 10) mentioned can be seen to the left of the parking lot. First Creek (p. 115) enters the Tennessee River on the left just above the docked riverboat.
The Huddle -- "They came down the steep street and turned in two by two." (p. 72) The Huddle, now vacant, was located at 219 Cumberland Avenue just a few yards east of Gay Street. The location had previously been occupied by a cab company before The Huddle opened in 1952 or 1953. Its mention in the text in 1951 is an anachronism
Ragpicker's Home -- The ragpicker's "...dark cavern beneath the vaulted concrete...." (p. 11) where "Water ran from a clay drain tile and went down a stone gully" (p. 421). The ragpicker's home under the south end of the Henley Street Bridge

Timothy Fadek’s Images of Juárez


I’m about 60 pages away from finishing Roberto Bolaño’s posthumous magnum opus, 2666, an astounding, shocking book that you should pick up right now and start reading, unless, of course, you hate the idea of getting hopelessly addicted to a book that coerces you to read it, that lingers in the back of your mind and gut, beckoning, calling you, even as you should be working or spending time with your family or doing errands or chores, etc. But otherwise: read it. A proper review forthcoming.

Anyway. The backbone of the plot, or, rather, the peripheral story that haunts the plot(s) of this massive, heavy novel, involves a seemingly endless string of largely unsolved murders in the fictional Mexican border city of Santa Teresa. An ugly industrial town in the Sonora Desert, Santa Teresa is a thinly disguised stand-in for Ciudad Juárez, where over the past 15 years over 400 young women have been raped and killed, their murders unsolved. While searching the gruesome real-life back story that informs Bolaño’s masterpiece, I came across Fadek’s eerie and sympathetic images of Juárez (this background story on Fadek and the Juárez photos is also quite good). Fadek aims clearly to draw attention to these underreported crimes, but his photographs also capture the doom and foreboding that looms in the blood of 2666. Those who’ve read the novel will no doubt find them evocative of the fourth book of 2666, “The Part About the Crimes,” and those who are flirting with undertaking Bolaño’s big book may find their interest redoubled. In any case, Fadek’s photojournalism is well worth a look. Great stuff.