Photography

Han Youngsoo chronicled the postwar transformation of mid-century Seoul, complicating popular depictions of that era as one solely of deprivation and hardship.

Maggie Shannon’s black-and-white images of childbirth in the COVID era capture the awe-inspiring, quotidian experience of turning one person into two.

Peter van Agtmael’s images of war and domestic strife are arresting and almost cinematically spare, but it is the careful narrative arc of his new book, “Look at the U.S.A.,” that deepens the viewer’s experience.

As resistance to integration mounted, Florence Mars bought a camera and began to photograph thousands of subjects, including the trial of the killers of Emmett Till.

Lars Tunbjörk documented the rise of alienating online work. His images should remind us that it didn’t have to be this way.

Pictures of the mundane can capture much more.

The artist’s poignant paintings reproduce the photographs of strangers.

A new feature on the camera app Halide allows you to take pictures without Apple’s A.I. optimization.

In the eighties, the Puerto Rican photographer Ricky Flores captured the parties and the people that shaped his teen-age years.

In a body of work that spans fine art and fashion photography, Cox has repurposed familiar imagery—the Pietà, “The Last Supper”—to broaden the scope of how we envision our deities and our histories.

In the new book “A Woman I Once Knew,” a photographer renowned for capturing others collects pictures of herself.

A new bill aims to enshrine the rights of trans and nonbinary Colombians. Camila Falquez takes pictures of the lives it could change.

In remote Kazakhstan, the photographer Andrew McConnell captured the places where astronauts return to Earth.

In the nineteen-eighties, Andrea Modica took photos of the students at her Catholic alma mater. “I recognized something there that I had to deal with about my time in high school—something both horrible and wonderful,” she said.

For “Big Sky,” the Australian photographer Adam Ferguson went in search of his own country, and found a place he both did and didn’t know.

Diana Markosian’s images of a once great institution have an aura of decay and pose a question about what motivates the dancers who remain.

In Casebere’s pictures from the exhibition “Seeds of Time,” water has not just inundated individual structures but seems to have drowned the whole world.

Just as we risk becoming inured to the crisis, an exhibition, “Coal + Ice,” serves as a stunning call to action.

A new anthology by Chinatown’s omnipresent documentarian, who captured half a century of shifting identities, activism, and daily life.

Some of the portraits in “This Train” have an Edenic quality to them, as if Kurland is asking: What if my kid and I were the only two people in the world?