In late August, Russian-backed rebel forces launched a devastating counter-offensive against Ukrainian troops. They drove them out of border areas of both the Luhansk and Donetsk regions in eastern Ukraine, retook areas south of Donetsk and advanced to within a few miles of the port of Mariupol. A ceasefire came into effect on September 5. It is holding in most areas, but not everywhere. Few have confidence that the fighting is really over and that both the Ukrainians on one side and the rebels and their backers from Russia on the other have not simply called half-time. The following photos were taken by Tim Judah while reporting for The New York Review over the past few weeks.
What we admire in pirates—at least our fictional pirates—is that they so enjoy their villainy. They’re not sly or covert or subtle. Everything about them is over-the-top, histrionic: they glory in their infamy. While most of us drag ourselves through the daily dullness of our lives, they swagger, they pirouette, and, in the case of Captain Hook, even dance a tarantella. Like the trailblazer and the gunslinger, the pirate represents a New World ideal of freedom—a proud renegade living by his wits and his daring.
They would have torn us to pieces, those Bacchae.
Instead, they turned—bare-handed—
on our herd of grazing cattle.
A single woman pulled a mewling calf in two,
while others clawed apart a full-grown heifer.
There were spread ribs and broken hooves
and pieces of flesh hung
dripping from the trees.
“While it actually resembles no other city upon the face of the earth,” wrote Lafcadio Hearn of New Orleans, “it owns suggestions of towns in Italy, and in Spain, of cities in England and in Germany, of seaports in the Mediterranean, and of seaports in the tropics.” There’s no better illustration of this than the photographs of Richard Sexton.
Garry Winogrand was one of the last great street photojournalists. He was a populist photographer, a real egalitarian, and his photographs of people on the street show that any face can be interesting. Yet in a way his style is difficult, because the world he depicts is often so quotidian that you yourself wouldn’t stop to look at it. In his photographs of the street, the suburbs, airports, the rodeo, he shows a piece of American life where, to his credit, there’s no desire to be aesthetic, to be lovely: he’s just there, he records.