Dame Dash has found himself in some new legal trouble with a photographer who claimed he cost her some major money.
According to court documents obtained by HipHopDX, the photographer, Monique Bunn, wants her case reopened regarding damages caused by Dash’s alleged actions, which include not payiong her for photographs she tool and he used. In the 285-page document, Bunn stated Dash confirmed the price of the photographs and was aware that he didn’t pay her properly for using the pictures outside of their intended promotional use.
“The evidence at trial – which was uncontroverted – established that each photo was worth $1,500, which should have resulted in a verdict for at least $384,750,000,” Bunn’s lawyer wrote in the memorandum of law. “It is well known that professional photographers earn much of their income through licensing their portfolio of photographs, and Defendants’ actions destroyed Ms. Bunn’s economic prospects. The jury ignored the valuation evidence and awarded zero to Ms. Bunn.”
He continued, “It is impossible to conceive how a jury could conclude that a professional photographer’s portfolio of thousands of photos, as well as photography equipment, could be worth zero. Especially when the Plaintiff and the Defendants both testify that the damages are in the millions. A new trial is warranted under these circumstances.”
Bunn also sued Dash all the way back inm 2019, when she alleged that he toched her inappropriately while she was asleep at his house.
“Photography is an interesting medium,” says Marton Perlaki. “There is this machine you use to create something, but then it immediately transforms by just the sheer fact of taking a picture. The whole thing is so scientific, so mechanical, but a successful picture is much more than just a technicality. It is something that is even transcendent – something magic happens.”
It is this push-pull between magic and logic that runs through Perlaki’s new book, The Third Hand. Made mostly between 2018-2023, it combines Perlaki’s luminograms with everyday snaps, found photographs, images of his sketchbooks and drawings, and shots of his studio. These image sets are separated into sections – 12 in total – which are marked out by coloured dividers and papers. Many of the images have identification numbers, which include individual digits plus letters of the alphabet assigned to image sets. The book also contains a larger index of some of Perlaki’s work made over the last five years, from which this smaller edit is drawn. There’s also a short definition of each image set. “Luminograms. Part of the tradition of abstract photography”, the text helpfully states. “Snaps are characterised by their casualness.”
“We’re obsessed with being in control, but something is lost in that”
There’s a pleasing, quasi-scientific order in this separation of taxonomies and types which comes across in other ways too. When we speak, Perlaki describes his former studio in terms of a “laboratory”, and his drawings – abstracted images of his parents – in terms of diagrams. “Anything that feels too close to home or sentimental, I tend to try to cool it down,” he explains. “I try to step back from it emotionally and make it as objective and as scientific as possible. That’s why the drawings are almost like architectural plans – that’s why one of them is blue. I was thinking of the blueprint technique that used to be used for architectural drawings, where it’s not about the beauty of the house but its parameters.”
But Perlaki’s project is also open to the playful, the unexpected, and the mysterious – to the third hand referenced in the title. To make his luminograms he has to work in darkness, manipulating cheap light sources over the image surface, and moving the paper between each phase in the process. His shots of sketchbooks bear testimony to the painstaking notes required. “It’s just science, photosensitive paper and light, photographs in the very purest way,” he says, but he adds that the results are unpredictable, and that his studio is also a laboratory in the sense of experimentation. “It’s important to see that this is a thought process, and that includes sometimes senseless play,” he says. “I wanted it to feel open-ended, not something very perfect.”
Perlaki’s decision to include everyday images and found photography is inspired by a similar urge and embrace of the unexpected. The selected shots cover a wide range of subjects and are matched by visual correspondence rather than a formal order. There are weird and wonderful combinations of airbags and umbrellas, ice cubes and illuminated thumbs. But though they are enigmatic, the subjects don’t seem totally random, with ongoing strands around science and nature, ancient statues and politics, the history of art and the prosaic.
The unifying force is Perlaki himself who was like “a big magnet” over this period, he says, “gathering all these visual notations that are somehow connected”. “I also wanted to inject a little bit of humour into the book,” he adds. “It’s not all about some highbrow, difficult technique that nobody can do.”
The Third Hand starts and ends with images of teeth: a medical image superimposed on the front, and a hand-drawn illustration on the inside back cover. The drawing shows incisors cracking and breaking, evoking the common nightmare of teeth fracturing or falling apart – unfunny dreams which Perlaki sometimes experiences. He interprets them as “about losing power and losing control”. The third hand in this case is the subconscious, and perhaps that’s haunting the whole project. ‘Fingery Eyes’ by Felix Bazalgette, one of two essays in the book, explores a spectral, psychic theme, discussing how in the 19th century people “made sense of photography” with fantastical stories.
Bazalgette considers how horror films continue to digest this uncanny medium, and in particular our growing obsession with screens. As he points out, films such as Orpheus (1950), The Matrix (1999), and Ringu (1998) suggest the screens which surround us might be permeable – that what’s shown in them might leak out or absorb us. In the past, people believed photography might be able to trace out thoughts, he writes, “and why not, when the idea of recording the perfect outlines of bones encased in flesh had previously been an equally strange proposition?” Actually these ideas aren’t so fanciful, or paved the way for a new reality: in March 2023, the New Scientist reported that researchers from Osaka University had used AI on brain scans, to make pictures of what people were viewing. As sci-fi novelist Arthur C. Clarke put it: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
Our relationship with photography is hard to pin down, and the medium is fast evolving. Perhaps a publication such as Perlaki’s, which foregrounds both chaos and our attempts to find order, is as much sense as we can make of it. “You know, I’m one of the few people who doesn’t mind going to the dentist,” he says. “I find it relaxing. You’re in a situation in which you have less control, and I think losing control is sometimes very good. We’re obsessed with being in control, but something is lost in that. This is more about a different way of focusing, without your senses, or especially without your eyes.”
After “Invisible Man” by Ralph Ellison, the Prologue (1999-2000)
Many of Wall’s works are tinged with a certain melancholy, embodied by the lonely characters who flee the viewer’s gaze, as if lost in their thoughts, and in these indoor locations in which they adopt passive, idle postures. However, in After “Invisible Man” by Ralph Ellison, the Prologue (1999-2000), the melancholy of the figure sitting with his back turned to the camera is not merely the product of the photographer’s imagination, but rather that of the writer Ralph Ellison and his novel Invisible Man (1952). After rereading the book, Wall wanted to recreate the narrator’s home: a cellar in Harlem lit by hundreds of light bulbs – 1,369 to be precise – so that the man could write his story.
A vision which, despite the dreadful portrayal of social misery, also opens the way for magic and fantasy. Among the dirty dishes, piles of books, and hanging laundry, the anxiety-inducing chaos of the setting appears enchanting beneath the magical light of the myriad bulbs, with their almost comforting atmosphere. As a bibliophile and writer himself, the Canadian photographer was delighted to recreate the scene as he had pictured it while reading the book: ‘The process of creating this room, with its twisted floor, its color palette, and the turbulent flow of the light-bulb pattern was a sculptural endeavor which eventually led to the creation of a highly stimulating pictorial treatment.’
Waiting in a Russian police station after being arrested at an opposition protest in 2021, photographer Dmitry Markov surreptitiously raised his iPhone, snapped a photo, and posted it to Instagram.
The image, of a burly police officer in body armour and a black balaclava sitting below a photograph of president Vladimir Putin, quickly went viral. For many, it became a symbol of the brutality of the Russian regime, its crackdown on dissent and – because the police officer was hiding his face – the Kremlin’s fear of its own people.
It was characteristic of Markov’s ability to capture a zeitgeist moment, and his brand of photography that took the viewer deep inside modern Russia.
Since his death earlier this month, 41, Markov has been hailed as one of Russia’s best photographers. Although his passing was announced just a few hours after that of opposition leader Alexei Navalny, there was no suggestion of foul play.
He was a “Russian Cartier-Bresson”, said Kirill Serebrennikov, a leading Russian theatre director who collaborated with Markov. “He was able to capture the soul of the people, their DNA. If you want to understand Russians, you should look at Dima Markov’s photos.”
With no university degree, and little in the way of formal training, Markov began taking photos in Moscow in the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he had no interest in historic buildings or celebrities. Instead, he was drawn to places such as train stations, markets, and the edges of Russian cities that are a maze of crumbling Soviet-era blocks of flats.
His subjects were always the most vulnerable in society: orphans, alcoholics, addicts, homeless people, the very old and dying, conscripts and children. It was a side of Russia absent from bombastic official narratives under Putin, but one that was instantly recognisable to most Russians.
“A lot of people live in the Russia that Dima Markov photographed. But they don’t see it like he saw it. They see it as something terrible, something shameful, and something that should be forgotten,” said Serebrennikov. “Dima looked at it and was able to see beauty, eroticism and some sort of glamour.”
I first met Markov in 2007 when we were volunteering at a state-run orphanage for mentally and physically disabled children in a village in western Russia. He was intense and enjoyed arguing, but he was also kind and generous – and his empathy for the kids trapped in Russia’s orphanage system was obvious.
Eventually, Markov abandoned traditional cameras, and switched exclusively to an iPhone. He set up an Instagram account that went on to attract almost a million followers.
Not the sort of artist who maintained a distance from his subjects, Markov mixed photography and philanthropy, and used his prodigious talent to support charitable causes from orphan integration schemes, to human rights groups and drug rehabilitation programmes. “Justice is the realm of the devil; the realm of God is charity and forgiveness,” he told one interviewer in 2020.
Perhaps one of the reasons Markov was drawn to those on the margins of society was his own history. He first started using heroin at 18 when growing up in the Moscow commuter town of Pushkino, and in recent years had been very public about his two-decade struggle with addiction – just as he was about his childhood traumas, including an alcoholic father.
“He wasn’t shy about talking about his demons,” said Aleksei Pivovarov, a Russian journalist and friend of Markov.
Creativity was one of the ways he tried to deal with his past, and he said on many occasions that, without photography, would have been dead long ago. “Viewers see some of my subjects as bleak, if not, let’s be honest, depressing. But I feel the opposite: peace,” he wrote in his 2018 book Draft. “When I manage to express this bleakness in a text or photograph, I feel as if it becomes a little less inside me.”
After Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Markov remained in the country – a decision that he agonised over, and which sparked much online criticism. While he opposed the war, he was unable to see an artistic future for himself outside Russia, and he felt bound to the people and places he knew.
“I can’t just stop loving those who are close to me and start hating them,” he wrote in one of his last posts on social media. “I don’t know how to act correctly in this situation and be a good person for everyone, or whether, indeed, that is even possible.”
In the days after his death, there has been an outpouring of appreciation for his photography, with some critics placing him in a tradition of socially oriented Russian artists that includes 19th-century painter Ilya Repin.
Pivovarov compared him to Renaissance masters such as Caravaggio. “People will judge what the early 2000s were like by Dima’s photographs,” he said. “He saw the light inside nondescript people, and shone his love on them. And they become the centre of the universe.”
In a world where capturing the moment in the blink of an eye can make all the difference, Kingston Digital, Inc. has just elevated the game for photography enthusiasts and professionals alike. The release of the Canvas React Plus V60 SD memory card, boasting unparalleled speeds of up to 280MB/s and the impressive capacity to store up to 1TB of content, marks a significant milestone in digital storage solutions. This leap forward is not just about numbers; it’s about what those figures mean for photographers capturing fast-action shots and recording 4K Ultra HD videos without the fear of lag or interruptions.
The Canvas React Plus V60 is not just another memory card. Its remarkable write speed of up to 150MB/s transforms the way photographers approach their art, particularly in scenarios demanding rapid-fire shooting or continuous high-resolution video capture. This swift data handling ensures that every burst mode session or 4K video at higher frames per second is captured with crystal clarity, devoid of the frustrations of buffering or missed shots. For those in the field of sports, wildlife, or any genre of photography where speed is of the essence, this technological advancement opens new doors to creative possibilities.
With storage options scaling up to 1TB, the Canvas React Plus V60 is a game-changer for professionals and hobbyists who prefer to carry their entire digital portfolio in their pocket. This leap in storage capacity means photographers can shoot longer and store more without the need to swap cards, ensuring they never miss a beat. The convenience of having a vast digital canvas at one’s disposal cannot be overstated, especially when it comes to capturing those once-in-a-lifetime moments or embarking on extended shooting expeditions.
Kingston’s reputation for reliability is well-known, and the Canvas React Plus V60 continues this tradition, backed by a lifetime warranty and free technical support. This commitment to quality, coupled with the card’s affordability, positions it as an attractive option for both professionals and budding creatives. In a market flooded with options, the assurance of performance and support at a reasonable price point makes the Canvas React Plus V60 a standout choice. For those wondering about the tangible benefits of faster memory cards, a look at the significance of choosing the right speed class for different photography needs underscores the importance of this release.
In an era where the speed at which one can capture and store high-quality images and videos can set them apart, Kingston Digital’s latest offering is not just a product; it’s a pivotal tool that promises to redefine the boundaries of digital photography and videography. As we move forward, the Canvas React Plus V60 stands as a testament to the relentless pursuit of innovation, ensuring that memories are not just captured but are preserved with the fidelity they deserve.
A photographer has sued fashion designer Vera Wang for posting a photo of Emily Ratajkowski on social media without permission.
Photographer Edward Opinalodo took photographs of model Ratajkowski wearing black sunglasses while walking in New York City on March 10, 2020.
However, the photographer claims that he discovered his image on fashion designer Vera Wang’s Facebook page a few days later on March 13, 2020.
According to a lawsuit filed by Opinalodo on February 12, the fashion brand used his photograph of Ratajkowski without his consent.
The photographer claims that Vera Wang used his image to plug the company’s eyewear line and used the hashtag “#VeraWangEyewear” to highlight a particular pair of sunglasses that the model was wearing.
Vera Wang “used the Photograph to advertise its eyewear which it highlighted in its post writing ‘#EmilyRatajkowski wearing #VeraWangEyewear out and about in NYC. Style: Grace,” Opinalodo alleges in the lawsuit.
The New York Post reports that the photographer is seeking unspecified damages from the fashion company for the alleged copyright infringement.
This certainly isn’t the first time that an image of Ratajkowski has been at the center of a lawsuit.
The model, who has herself been sued numerous times for copyright infringement, has openly spoken out against photographers who have profited from her image and expounded her belief that she should be able to own and control that image.
In October 2019, Ratajkowski was sued for sharing a photographer’s image to her Instagram Stories with the caption “mood forever”. In the picture, she uses a large vase of flowers to hide her face from the paparazzi as she walks down a New York City street.
Ratajkowski described her anger and shock over getting sued for a photo of herself in her essay “Buying Myself Back” in The Cut.
“I learned the next day from my own lawyer that despite being the unwilling subject of the photograph, I could not control what happened to it, ” Ratajkowski writes.
“I have learned that my image, my reflection, is not my own.”
In court, Ratajkowski’s attorneys argued that her use of the image was a legal “fair use,” because she had posted it to Instagram as a criticism of invasive paparazzi. They argued she had transformed the photo from an “exploitative image” snapped without her consent to “a commentary on the harassing and relentless behavior of paparazzi.”
Image credits: Header photo licensed via Depositphotos. and center photo via court documents
At last, David Seidner is being honored with a proper one-man retrospective. The late portraitist and fashion photographer was known for his lush and meticulously composed images, many of them reminiscent of 19th-century paintings. His work often graced the pages of Vanity Fair, most notably his neoclassical studies of society figures like the Miller sisters; his images of celebrities such as Gwyneth Paltrow and her mother, the actor Blythe Danner; and his epic VF portfolio that featured 18 descendants of artist John Singer Sargent’s former subjects—including actor Helena Bonham Carter and journalist Anderson Cooper—photographed as Sargent might have rendered them on canvas 100 years before.
Not long after Seidner’s 1999 death from AIDS-related illness, his body of work was acquired by New York’s International Center of Photography. Now, as the institution celebrates its 50th anniversary, Elisabeth Sherman, ICP’s senior curator and director of exhibitions and collections, has mounted a sumptuous, definitive show, on view through early May, encompassing a career that boldly strode among the worlds of fashion, portraiture, fine art, still life, and experimental photography, always with an appreciation of subjects’ outward elegance—and inner beauty.
Herewith, selections from the exhibition, “David Seidner: Fragments, 1977–99,” and ICP’s permanent collection.
Helena Bonham Carter, 1998.
Capucci/Francine Howell, 1989.
Jessye Norman, ca. 1995.
Taya Thurman, Mme. Grès 1980.
Bill T. Jones, ca. 1993.
Anh Duong/Patou, 1986.
Yves Saint Laurent/Anh Duong, 1986.
Pia Getty, Princess Alexandra Von Furstenberg, Princess Marie Chantal of Greece, ca. 1995.
Suzanne McClelland, 1994.
Installation view from David Seidner: Fragments, 1977–99
On a crisp February evening, the Hilton Istanbul Bosphorus became more than just a landmark; it transformed into a nexus for digital innovation within the art world. The Awards.Photos event, held on February 5th, 2024, wasn’t just another competition. It was the world’s first NFT photography contest, marking a pivotal moment for artists and enthusiasts alike. Organized by a collaboration of entities including the International Federation of Photographic Art, Seed.Photo, and Eurasia, and sponsored by Bybit NFT, this event drew attention not just for its pioneering nature but for what it represented: the seamless fusion of technology and creativity.
The Awards.Photos event broke new ground by showcasing the potential of blockchain technology to safeguard artists’ rights and maintain digital integrity. Competing across six categories – Creative Concept, Human, Nature, Open Color, Open Monochrome, and Travel – photographers from around the globe had their works evaluated not just for their aesthetic appeal, but for their innovative use of digital mediums. Winners like Elina Garipova for ‘Daily’ and Mehdi Nağaşzade for ‘Lily’ exemplified the event’s goal: to champion creative freedom and ensure artists’ control over their work. This convergence of tradition and technology opens up new avenues for artistic expression and sets a precedent for future endeavors in the digital art sphere.
The integration of photography with blockchain and NFTs was more than a technical achievement; it was a transformative journey for the art community. By offering a platform where artists could securely sell and showcase their work, the event highlighted a broader shift towards a more inclusive and equitable artistic landscape. The significance of this shift cannot be overstated, as it not only democratizes access to the NFT market but also empowers creators to derive tangible value from their creativity. Statements from the organizers underscored the importance of this event in reshaping the art world, ensuring that the artists’ narratives and the integrity of their creations are preserved in the digital age.
The success of the Awards.Photos event in Istanbul is a testament to the evolving relationship between art and technology. It’s a narrative that goes beyond the confines of this competition, sparking conversations about the future of artistic expression. As this event becomes a landmark in the history of digital art, it serves as a catalyst for further innovation, encouraging artists and technologists to explore new ways of collaboration. The intersection of photography and blockchain, as showcased in Istanbul, is just the beginning of a broader movement towards a more dynamic and inclusive art world.
The Awards.Photos event has not only set a precedent but also opened up a dialogue about the possibilities that lie at the intersection of technology and art. As we move forward, the lessons learned and the successes celebrated in Istanbul will undoubtedly shape the future of digital art, making this event a watershed moment for artists and the global art community at large.
