I discovered Jewish photographers a couple of decades ago when I worked on a book, Cityscapes: A History of New York in Images. At the time, I was intrigued with how to tell the city’s history through photographs. Then, when I started to request permission to publish, I discovered that most of the photographers were Jewish New Yorkers. That sent me down a twisting path as I learned about more and more and more Jewish photographers. All types of photographers: professional and lay, photojournalists and street photographers, fashion photographers and family photographers. I fell in love with the multitude of their images. Turns out I was not the only one.
This book opened a familiar world for me and transformed it into one I scarcely recognized. I learned so much I didn’t know about the iconic Jewish neighborhood of New York through the eyes of many photographers who were drawn to its crowded and dirty streets.
Some were Jewish photographers, some were not, but all of them contended with the challenge of picturing a neighborhood whose reputation set it apart from the rest of the city. I liked how Blair takes readers back into the 19th century and then travels up into the 21st century, letting us see both images and their afterlife.
How New York's Lower East Side inspired new ways of seeing America
New York City's Lower East Side, long viewed as the space of what Jacob Riis notoriously called the "other half," was also a crucible for experimentation in photography, film, literature, and visual technologies. This book takes an unprecedented look at the practices of observation that emerged from this critical site of encounter, showing how they have informed literary and everyday narratives of America, its citizens, and its possible futures.
Taking readers from the mid-nineteenth century to the present, Sara Blair traces the career of the Lower East Side…
What can be better than to have a book completely scuttle your assumptions, starting with the photograph on the cover? Like many people, I thought of Jewish life during the years of Nazi Germany before the war as a period of distress and increasing pressure to leave.
These family photographs present a much more complicated view, inviting me to wrestle with my assumptions.
How German Jews used photographs to document their experiences in the face of National Socialism
Still Lives is a systematic study of the ways Jews used photographs to document their experiences in the face of National Socialism. In a time of intensifying anti-Jewish rhetoric and policies, German Jews documented their lives and their environment in tens of thousands of photographs. German Jews of considerably diverse backgrounds took and preserved these photographs: professional and amateurs, of different ages, gender, and classes. The book argues that their previously overlooked photographs convey otherwise unuttered views, emotions, and self-perceptions. Based on a database of…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
It filled me with wonder at how much one could learn from studying just one photograph. The photo, by Dmitri Baltermants, a Soviet Jewish photojournalist, was taken outside of Kerch, in Ukraine, of dead bodies lying in the snow in 1942. Baltermants focused on a non-Jewish woman mourning the death of her non-Jewish husband, but the photo came to symbolize so much more.
I love how Shneer traces the path of this photo across decades, illuminating how many meanings can be attached to a single image.
In January 1942, Soviet press photographers came upon a scene like none they had ever documented. That day, they took pictures of the first liberation of a German mass atrocity, where an estimated 7,000 Jews and others were executed at an anti-tank trench near Kerch on the Crimean peninsula. Dmitri Baltermants, a photojournalist working for the Soviet newspaper Izvestiia, took photos that day that would have a long life in shaping the image of Nazi genocide in and against the Soviet Union. Presenting never before seen photographs, Grief: The Biography of a Holocaust Photograph shows how Baltermants used the image…
I confess I love the photographs, and there are lots of them. Marcia Bricker Halperin, a New York Jewish photographer, took them back in the 1970s, but only after she rediscovered them did she realize what she had done.
I treasure spending time looking at the faces of these men and women in the cafeteria, eavesdropping on their conversations, admiring the incredible theatrical milieu, and entering their world of good food and fast friendships.
On a winter's day in the mid-1970s the photographer Marcia Bricker Halperin sought warm refuge and, camera in hand, passed through the revolving doors of Dubrow's Cafeteria on Kings Highway. There, between the magical mirrored walls and steaming coffee urns, she found herself as if on a theater set, looking out at a tableau of memorable Brooklyn faces. Enchanted, Halperin returned to Dubrow's again and again.
In Kibbitz & Nosh, Halperin reminds us of the days when she would order a coffee, converse with the denizens of Dubrow's on Kings Highway and at its Manhattan location in the Garment District,…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
I’m not a fan of theory, which Amos Morris-Reich is, but I loved how he embedded his theory in five fascinating cases that would not normally be considered together.
One case involved a Nazi photographer, one concerned a Jewish promoter and collector of photographs, one looked at Jewish photographers in Eastern Europe, and two considered very different Jewish photographers: Helmar Lerski and Robert Frank. The combination is thought-provoking.
It is a sign of the accepted evidentiary status of photographs that historians regularly append them to their accounts, Amos Morris-Reich observes. Very often, however, these photographs are treated as mere illustrations, simple documentations of the events that transpired. Scholars of photography, on the other hand, tend to prioritize the photographs themselves, relegating the historical contexts to the background. For Morris-Reich, however, photography exists within reality; it partakes in and is very much a component of the history it records. Morris-Reich examines how photography affects categories of history and experience, how it is influenced by them, and the ways in…
My book follows in the footsteps of young women and men as they roamed the city with cameras around their necks. Mostly native-born New Yorkers, educated in the city’s public schools, they picked up cameras to document their own world, to come to grips with what it meant to live in the city during the tumultuous decades of the Great Depression and World War II.
As street photographers, they rejected photographs of monumental skyscrapers. Instead, they portrayed their city through its people as they enjoyed the beach at Coney Island, waited for the bus, or hung out on the corner with friends. They left behind a rich visual story that proved formative to the rise of street photography.
