The Greater Marshall Chamber of Commerce loved welcoming Striking H Florals and Striking H Photography to the organization recently.

Owner Haley Hastings is the face behind the camera and the floral designer! She has a master’s and bachelor’s degree in agriculture. She taught agriculture at the high school level for five years in Texas. She is currently am a full time cattle rancher, florist and lifestyle photographer.

Hastings started designing wedding florals on her own in 2019. She got her desire for the love of plants and flowers from her great-grandmother Cecil, who owned a floral business in Marshall, and her love of photography from her grandmother Karla.

Striking H Photography & Florals, LLC. opened in July 2022. They can be reached at (903) 742-2804 or www.strikinghphotographyandfloralsllc.com.

Photography has always existed in multiple spheres – as an artistic medium, a vehicle for documenting history, a channel for self-expression, a tool for surveillance, and a form of casual communication. With the meteoric rise of social media in the 21st century, however, the ways in which photos are produced, consumed, and understood have profoundly changed. While social media offers photographers unparalleled opportunities for visibility, it has also homogenized photographic styles, marginalized minority voices, and constrained creative freedom.

Nowhere is this homogenization more evident than on image-centric platforms like Instagram. The quest for “Instafame” has birthed a new, distinctive, and relatively homogenized aesthetic. Influential accounts with millions of followers tend to feature similar editing techniques, compositional styles, and subject matter. Cookie-cutter filters generating high-contrast, muted tones, and a predominance of portraits and selfies and central symmetry prevail. Rather than leveraging social media’s breadth to diversify, many photographers conform to proven formulas for going viral.

This consumable, commodified aesthetic garners likes and follows, but it discourages photographic creativity and diversity. Aspiring photographers often emulate established influencers rather than cultivating a unique vision. The points, likes, and algorithmic rankings that govern a platform’s visibility and success provide little incentive to post images that challenge conventions. Consequently, photographers self-censor, and diversity of perspective suffers. Distinct voices go undeveloped while a marketable visual trope flourishes.

Even outside the elite influencer realm, social platforms tend to privilege conventionally pretty, palatable photography. Images displaying bodies and themes contrary to mainstream preferences often face marginalization or outright censorship. Facebook and Instagram’s murky nudity policies also exemplify how marginalized bodies – particularly queer, non-binary, ethnic minority, and heavier bodies – undergo disproportionate censorship through the veil of moral protectionism and misaligned algorithms.

Similar barriers exist for photographers exploring themes of identity, politics, culture, and wellness in nuanced, unconventional ways. Complex visual narratives about economic inequality, racism, disease, and climate change tend to fare poorly on platforms designed for brief, amusing content. Dense, conceptually challenging fine art photography receives even less engagement amidst the torrent of selfies and memes.

While social media provides unprecedented connectivity between photographers worldwide, algorithms dictate visibility and skew which voices are heard. Homogenization emerges less from photographers unanimously endorsing certain styles and more from platforms amplifying particular styles while suppressing others.

Options exist for circumventing these biases, like leveraging alt hashtags or reaching niche communities through targeted networking. However, these specialized channels offer only a sliver of the visibility possible on dominant platforms’ news feeds. Opting out of mainstream social media means drastically reducing one’s potential reach. Yet, conforming to algorithmic demands requires sacrificing creative liberties. This catch-22 leaves many photographers feeling pressured to choose between authenticity and visibility.

Of course, social media deserves credit for empowering amateur photographers historically excluded from the insular art world. Platforms like Instagram offer non-elite creators access to global audiences and community support systems. Social media facilitates magnifying perspectives historically left invisible.

However, realizing social media’s democratizing potential requires platforms designed around uplifting diverse voices rather than maximizing corporate profits. The instabilities and harsh judgments photographers face stem directly from the competitive, numbers-driven environments social media companies have constructed. Creativity becomes commodified and metrics-based when success is defined by fickle indicators like followers and likes. Careers are demolished by short timelines and harsh metrics. As market systems prioritizing data-driven growth at all costs continue dominating over people, homogenization and exclusion will likely intensify.

Alternative platforms could help counterbalance these issues by embracing non-competitive environments and curation based on artistic merit rather than popularity. However, the targeted ads and motivating algorithms core to major platforms’ profit model make hatching large-scale alternatives difficult.

Better policies protecting free expression would help ensure social media fulfills its promise of connecting people and proliferating perspectives. But in the absence of systemic reforms, the onus falls on photographers to resist homogenization and express untapped creative potential. And given the choice of faith in the individual or faith in a social media company, my decision isn’t difficult.

The path forward lies in photographers helping each other summon the courage to differ. With mutual support, photographers can nurture intimacy over influence, exploration over perfectionism, and fulfillment over fame. Rather than simply lamenting social media’s biases, we must proactively create communities that uplift authenticity, welcome difficult themes, and amplify unpopular voices.

By banding together to expand concepts of photographic merit, we can gradually loosen homogenization’s grip – not through knee-jerk rejection of social media, but through deliberately reimagining its possibilities.

One strategy is partnering with museums, galleries, publications, and other arts institutions to showcase groundbreaking work ignored by mainstream platforms. With institutional wings, transgressive artists can bypass social media’s biases and gain direct visibility for their perspectives.

Photography collectives can also provide sheltered spaces for taking risks too bold for mass platforms. Rather than siloing ourselves as lone creators trying to “make it” online, sharing resources, contacts, and solidarity can embolden creativity.

Even on major platforms, photographers can purposefully engage with and amplify unconventional artists, whether through likes, collaborations, or other cross-promotions. Thoughtfully engaging with the margins helps pull them closer to the center.

We must also remain vigilant about checking our own biases as viewers and critics. Homogenization does not arise solely from algorithms – human prejudices also influence what we choose to see, share, and celebrate. By reflecting on how our own preferences, blind spots, and snap judgments may limit artistic diversity, we can grow into more open, discerning audiences.

Building local community offline also provides refuge from the impersonal forces dominating online spaces. Participating in regional photo clubs, showing work at local galleries, organizing community photo exhibits, and selling photos at art fairs can meaningfully connect photographers despite social media’s distancing effects. These local nodes cultivate the intimacy and belonging that nurture daring creativity.

The pressure to conform also operates on an internal, individual level. Social media’s pervasiveness primes photographers to constantly consider what will attract likes and follows. This inhibits fully tuning out others’ expectations and exploring one’s deepest creative instincts. Rather than asking, “How does this image express my unique perspective?” many photographers first ask, “Will this photograph do well on Instagram?” This reflexive filtering atrophies authenticity.

To overcome this, photographers must carve spaces for creation unfettered by imagined online reception. Rather than presenting polished work, we can share unfinished experiments and works-in-progress to normalize embracing uncertainty. Through rediscovering play and shedding self-consciousness, social media’s pressures loosen.

With vigilance, social media can help democratize photography rather than stifle it. But averting the pitfalls of commodification and homogenization requires intention. The voices that instill photography or any creative pursuit with its richest meaning often emanate quietly from the margins. Amid social media’s din, we must listen carefully for them.

Have you noticed that your recent work isn’t getting as much attention as your old photos? If you post a lot on social media, the algorithms may have something to do with it (to some degree). But another perspective to take in is that this is a normal progression of things. The reality is, no one really cares about your photography (at least not exactly the way you do), but for Sean Tucker, that’s also totally okay.

In the video above, Tucker offers his insights on the topic, but also assures that this lack of attention may actually be a good sign. His friend Simon Baxter also joined in to share some examples from the field of landscape photography.

One of the factors that Tucker noted is that there will always be more beginners in any form of art. So naturally, there will be more of them who will find your early work easier to understand, and maybe even emulate. But, as these beginners progress into their craft or reach their creative maturity, they tend to have way less time to spend on social media and interact around other people’s work. They’d be out there busy doing more work.

Meanwhile, Baxter also raised an important point: by nature of social media, people these days have very short attention spans and are constantly distracted by “bite-sized” content. As such, if your photography has already reached its maturity, it will be more nuanced or complex. It will only gain attention from viewers who are willing to spend extra time analyzing and appreciating the nuances or messages of your work.

Do you agree with Tucker and Baxter’s points above? Share your insights in the comments below, or in our group discussion if you’re already part of the Photofocus Community!

The winning images from the second annual Natural Landscape Photography Awards were just announced. The competition was started to “promote the very best landscape photography by digital and film photographers who value realism and authenticity in their work,” with rules set up to prevent deceptive editing techniques. More than 1,000 photographers entered from 54 countries this year. Contest organizers were once again kind enough to share the winners and runners-up.

I had been working in Mexico City for a few years when I took this in 2022. I was shooting for my new book, No Mames, a collection of photographs taken across five years in the city. During that time, I went back and forth between New York and Mexico. I met new people, I fell in love, and I found connections from one person to another.

I mostly photographed the queer and trans community. Everyone in this photo is either a musician, a designer or an artist. I think capturing joy is really important because it gives not only hope but also inspiration for how to live in a country that is still violent to queer and trans people.

I had the idea of creating an empty house party – when you move out of a place and on the last day you throw a party for your friends. I found this house for sale on a real estate website and I rented it for the day.

When we got there it was way better than it looked in the photos. The furniture was already there; we spaced it out a little. There was a room full of Jewish books and a mezuzah on the door. I’m Jewish but my experience in Mexico is not a Jewish one as it’s a mostly Christian country. So this house was perfect, both the look of it and then all of these elements that reminded me of home. It was like a magical add-on.

We arrived in the morning and my friend Hugo Matula set up a room to do makeup and hair. I was also working in collaboration with another friend, Esteban Tamayo, who runs the Mexican fashion company Tiempos – and we set up a clothing rack with items from the brand. We let people play around with the clothing and express themselves. The clothes are super colourful, as were the characters which we created throughout the day.

We started by doing portraits and later I gathered everyone for a group photo. We played music and had drinks. It turned into a party naturally because everyone knew each other. I wanted to keep it very bare, to have this feeling of taking over an abandoned house and doing whatever you wanted in it.

There are real couples in this photo. My approach to shooting real love is that there’s an eternal feeling to it. It can be romantic love, best friend love, or sibling and family love. Even if you break up everyone stays in each other’s hearts in some way, like exchanging particles.

On the left of the couch are a lesbian couple, Angelica and Cons: they’re some of the first people I met in Mexico City. They work and live together and they have a really sweet relationship and really lift each other up. The other couple on the same couch are Jorge and Danika: they’re funny, cool people who work in music and fashion. The third couple aren’t actually a couple but they’re best friends. The guy at the back is a photographer with the best smile in the world: Joaquin. He’s holding a basketball I picked up at Esteban’s that morning because my nickname for him is “basketball”. The woman on the right couch is Cosima, a friend.

At the end of the day when it was dark, we went up to the roof and I brought out some colourful lights. We had music, we were dancing, we got drinks from the 7-Eleven, people were still kissing and partying, and I took more photos.

With a lot of photos in the book, I look back on them and I’m like: “Wow, this is my life.” I don’t look at it as a project or an assignment. It’s really how I and those people felt that day. I remember snippets of being in that room, like what we did there and what we drank. It’s all about the experience, and the shared time together. It goes back to the idea of capturing something in an eternal sense: I want to feel that those moments are not going away. They were feelings and moments that happened. I was there, and I want to remember and extend them.

Mayan Toledano’s No Mames is out now, published by Damiani books.

Mayan Toledano’s CV

Born: Haifa, Israel
Trained: “I never studied photography. My uncle gave me a camera from a flea market and I started shooting. For me, photography is not a technical form – it’s more of an experience.”
Influences: “The people I shoot, they make the photo. I see each photo as a window into someone’s world.
High point: “Last year, I released my first film, Smadar, which was about spending a week with a woman who I’ve known my whole life. Another highlight is releasing this book, No Mames.”
Low point: “I don’t think there is one. I can’t look back and complain. I’ve had such beautiful moments that I could never have imagined having in my life.”
Top tip: “Try to create something you truly believe in. Don’t follow trends. Try to search for something that is really significant to you and keep doing it.”

Kolkata, India

A devotee prepares for the Hindu festival of Annakut at the Naba Brindaban temple. Devotees mark the festival, which as also known as Govardhan Puja, by offering vegetarian food to Lord Krishna as a sign of gratitude for saving them from floods

Photograph: Avishek Das/Sopa Images/Shutterstock

Posted: 15th November, 2023 by The Editor

Nation of Language are making way to be one of the top indie-pop acts. Their effortlessly cool energy are rooted in every track. The Brooklyn-based trio blend together elements of dark wave with nuanced modern pop, which translated well to the stage at Philly’s Union Transfer. With support from Miss Grit, the show was dazzling and intimate, even in a large crowd. Jay was there taking some incredible photos, check them out!

Photos by Jay Leiby

The Alternative is ad-free and 100% supported by our readers. If you’d like to help us produce more content and promote more great new music, please consider donating to our Patreon page, which also allows you to receive sweet perks like free albums and The Alternative merch.

There is a glorious melancholy in the images. A crumbling petrol station, a pair of abandoned cars, a caravan that could once have been towed on myriad, jolly holidays and is now abandoned on a hilltop.

A collection of beautiful photographs taken by the Welsh landscape photographer David Wilson drawn together in a book called Peeling Paint and Rust is a hymn to decay, and a respectful nod to the power of his country’s rain and damp.

Wilson, who is based in Pembrokeshire, south-west Wales, is known for his black and white landscape photographs, but for two decades has also been taking colour pictures of structures that are – just about – withstanding the elements.

“On my travels, I kept encountering the incredible colours and textures of peeling paint and rust,” said Wilson. “I’d be on my way to a location and suddenly I’d see a bright, flaking village shopfront – or a corrugated garage or tractor graveyard and be stopped in my tracks. The colours were amazing and I had to capture them.

“Over nearly 20 years I accumulated a collection of images of this wonderful decay and one day I realised that they hung together as a whole. Together, they tell a story of rural Wales. The patina of weather-aged surfaces and rusting metal feel like works of art to me.”

Wilson said Wales wasn’t kind to bodywork and neglected buildings. “Wales has proper weather. Brutal on occasion. The kind of weather that degrades our best efforts at preservation. Paint peels and metal rusts in outdoor Wales.”

His studies of corrugated iron are particularly striking. “We’ve taken it as our own. It’s been used extensively from the 19th century for sheds, garages, houses, chapels, all manner of structures, big and small. We Welsh love this crinkly material.”

But Wilson acknowledged the sadness in the pictures. “I felt I was documenting a dislocation in the rural communities of Wales. A dying way of life. The world moves on and it seemed to have left these places and their objects behind.”

He said it was becoming difficult to find studies in decay. “People are inclined to tidy things up. Put things right. That obsession with neatness and order.”

Drew Pritchard, the antique dealer and presenter of the television show Salvage Hunters, said there was a unique beauty in dereliction and decay.

The book, which is published on Thursday, reminded Pritchard of roaming the abandoned buildings in and around the small village on the coast of north Wales where he grew up and admiring the flaking paint of a corrugated chapel roof, Stan the Butcher’s tatty shop sign and a Ford Zephyr marooned on the front yard of the local garage.

He likes the way Wilson has put “the eroded, the rust-bitten and the slowly fading away” front and centre, almost as if they were portraits of people. “Wilson’s images serve as a celebratory obituary to those too stubborn to crumble,” he said.

This photo taken on July 31, 2023, shows a view of Nairobi, capital of Kenya. (Xinhua/Wang Guansen)

Strolling through streets in the Kenyan capital of Nairobi, people are likely to observe a vibrant youth presence, especially on Sundays when the bustling city typically experiences a lull in foot traffic.

NAIROBI, Nov. 15 (Xinhua) — Strolling through streets in the Kenyan capital of Nairobi, people are likely to observe a vibrant youth presence, especially on Sundays when the bustling city typically experiences a lull in foot traffic.

A closer look at these lively gatherings reveals groups of people posing for photographs, choreographers devising dance routines, and TikTokers creating the latest TikTok trends.

Austine Oyugi, 24, and Awadh Salim, 26, who were setting up their photography gear for a photo shoot, demonstrated the enduring popularity of this timeless art among Kenya’s youth.

This dynamic duo has been engaged in street photography for nearly a year, following the challenges of securing employment after their university graduation in 2022.

 Hawkers sell their merchandise along a street in the central business district of Nairobi, capital of Kenya, on Oct. 26, 2023. (Photo by John Okoyo/Xinhua)

“After Governor of Nairobi Johnson Sakaja lifted the mandatory photography fee in late 2022, people began coming to the streets to take photos, and my friend and I joined in,” said Oyugi, who holds a degree in actuarial science. “Salim had a camera from campus, and both of us honed our skills by watching YouTube tutorials.”

Before Nairobi’s streets transformed into a photography haven for the youth, obtaining a photography and videography permit involved a cumbersome and costly process. It required obtaining a license from the Kenya Films and Classification Board at a cost of dozens of U.S. dollars, notifying the police, and making numerous visits to the local administrator’s office for a single day of shooting.

Some of these regulations are outdated, and the government of Nairobi has waived all business permits for freelance photographers and filmmakers in the city, said Sakaja when issuing the directive in September 2022, adding that additionally, all the daily shooting fees have been abolished.

Today, the two friends have acquired substantial equipment that has improved the quality of their work. On a good day, they can photograph up to 30 people, with each photo costing 0.65 dollars. The photos are immediately shared with clients via WhatsApp, making this their primary source of income.

Salim said he frequently approached passersby for impromptu photoshoots. He emphasized the importance of being convincing and effectively communicating with customers by showcasing their previous work to earn their trust.

On the other end of the street, young Kenyans are found to create and share videos on the popular social media app TikTok. Here, dozens of youngsters perform dance routines and record them using their smartphones.

Vehicles drive on the Nairobi Expressway in Nairobi, Kenya, Dec. 22, 2022. (Xinhua/Han Xu)

Janet Kyalo, a student majoring in tourism and management, seizes the opportunity to incorporate Nairobi’s skyscrapers as her TikTok background. She appreciates the clean streets and the architecture, which adds a unique touch to her videos.

Kyalo noted that many people have lost interest in studio videos, finding them repetitive. She and her friends typically convene from 2 p.m. onward and stay until 7 p.m. These sessions offer an excellent opportunity for networking and building connections that can be pivotal in their careers.

Cliff Dawiga, a 25-year-old who recently quit his job as a vehicle mechanic due to inadequate earnings, has been shooting for a little over two months. Fueled by his childhood passion for photography, he purchased a used camera with his savings and started capturing portraits.

“After hearing that the governor had removed limitations on creatives, I bought the camera. However, it stayed unused in my house for two months before I began using it,” Dawiga said. Building confidence, he began using it on the streets, capturing portraits from Tuesday to Sunday, with weekends being the busiest.

“The pay is decent, and we’re not harassed by county police, allowing us to work smoothly. On rare occasions, like when it rains, we face some inconveniences,” Dawiga noted.

With approximately 800,000 Kenyan youths entering the job market each year, according to the National Council for Population Report 2023, the available economic opportunities, both formal and informal, fall short of meeting their needs. In this context, emerging crafts such as street photography are likely to evolve into profitable ventures for the youthful demographic in the near future.  ■