In this work, Reza Aramesh presents a complex and multilayered encounter with violence and subjugation. Part of the series Site of the Fall – Study of the Renaissance Garden, the smaller-than-life depiction of a young man—crafted in pale Carrara marble—recalls the Western sculptural tradition of picturing suffering heroes and saints from mythology and Christianity. Aramesh draws from a large archive he has compiled of media imagery of political prisoners and civilian victims of conflict, with poses reinterpreted by a studio model. The title claims to reference a specific event, although which one remains ambiguous. Through these means, the sculpture raises several tensions between universality and specificity, humiliation and dignity, and violence and eroticism, making us consider our own relationships to images of suffering. 

Dea, 22, Aleppo, Syria. “Queer and proud” 600 Turkish Liras, 2016; Mark, 19, Latakia, Syria. “Being Famous” 200 Turkish Liras, 2016; Dea, 22, Aleppo, Syria. “Give me my freedom” €75, 2016; Ammar, 19, Damascus, Syria. “Ammar from Sham (Damascus).” 200 Turkish Liras, 2016

In the SEXugees series, Bradley Secker uses an Instax Mini camera to photograph Syrian and Iraqi gay and trans individuals who have been displaced to Turkey after fleeing war and persecution. These former students, engineers, and cleaners were unable to find so-called traditional jobs and so turned to sex work to procure an income. Drawing on the conventions of “tart cards” or advertisements of sexual services, Secker’s photographs are informal and portable. The sitters have personalized the images with their own inscriptions as well as their typical fees. In doing so, the sitters reclaim their bodies and highlight the tensions between empowerment and employment, expression and objectification.

Growing up in the final decades of South African apartheid, activist and artist Zanele Muholi contends with the contradictions and faltering promises of a new democracy fettered by the legacies of colonial violence, racism, and queerphobia. In the seriesSomnyama Ngonyama (isiZulu for “Hail the Dark Lioness”), Muholi inhabits the role of both artist and model, using strategies of performance and naming to point to histories of domestic labor as well as gendered and racial domination and exclusion. In each self-portrait, Muholi embodies alter egos who don everyday objects as if they are ceremonial regalia. Muholi also darkens their own complexion, countering racist and exoticizing stereotypes that have framed the depiction of Black female-presenting bodies throughout the history of photography.

Students from Borough of Manhattan Community College, Occupying Wall Street, October 22, 2011; Yajaira, Occupying Wall Street, December 18, 2011; Bill, Ellen, and Bambu, Occupying Wall Street, December 17, 2011;Dan Protesting the War and the Economy, Occupying Wall Street, October 28, 2011

Photographer Accra Shepp began observing and then documenting demonstrators in the Occupy Wall Street movement soon after it took shape in September 2011. As Shepp has noted, the movement received negative publicity at the time, which increased his respect for its diverse participants and their dedication to the struggle against economic inequality and corporate overreach. The artist returned to Zuccotti Park in New York City, the main site of the demonstration, almost daily over the course of the next year. He chose to represent the historical moment through hundreds of single and group portraits, which give visibility to the individuals who came together in solidarity rather than the spectacle of mass protest. 

This unconventional portrait depicts three Black youths whose deaths drove a national reckoning around police violence and racial profiling: Trayvon Martin (1995–2012), Michael Brown (1996–2014), and Tamir Rice (2002–2014). The large-scale drawing resists the often-dehumanizing ways that violence, specifically anti-Black violence, are represented in the news and on social media. Based on private photographs later published widely, Kaphar outlines each face—one superimposed on the other—in white chalk on Asphalt-coated roofing paper, emulating the police practice of demarcating crime scenes. Kaphar’s composite portrait urges us to look in a sustained way, to piece apart the individual lives while confronting the racial dynamics of systemic violence. 

Ephemera from Jordia Benjamin, Museum Educator and Community Engagement Specialist, Age 34, Waterville, ME. Mommy’s Bent Thimble, 1974. 2021; Ephemera from Juman “Jojo” Hussein, Age 41, Westbrook, ME. Originally from Waist, Iraq. Islamic rosary, also known as Misbaha, 2006. 2023

For The Ephemera Project, Tanja Hollander asked both friends and strangers to send objects of personal significance to be photographed using a flatbed scanner. Coinciding with the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, Hollander found that “the act of gathering, choosing, and shipping ephemera allowed an opportunity for reflection and a way to process what and how we value the things we surround ourselves with.” These two photographs, part of a series that now comprises thousands of images, enlarge and decontextualize Islamic prayer beads and a thimble. Hollander also includes stories written by the participants, which reveal both the individual histories and intergenerational social connections contained within these objects. 

In his series Two Places on Earth, Chan Chao situates photographic portraits of women from eight different countries,now incarcerated in Peru for drug trafficking, alongside portraits of United Nations peacekeepers stationed in Cyprus. By photographing women who were exploited by drug cartels and then punished by the state, Chao emphasizes the gendered inequality of dislocation and forms of sanctioned and unsanctioned labor. The women claim their individuality through their clothing, accessories, and poses. Melissa’s pulled-back hair, Araceli’s bracelet, cigarette, and even her relationship with her friend, allconvey a sense of self-presence independent from their “official” classification as prisoners.