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It looks like smartphones really have killed the concept of "idle time." Last year, photographer Babycakes Romero captured an array of images showing people glued to their mobile devices when they could otherwise be having a conversation, enjoying dinner or simply staring into space. The series, titled "The Death of Conversation," was published on Bored Panda and ultimately led to a TEDx Talk.
In the time that's passed since he first published the photo series, Romero says the smartphone problem -- as he sees it -- has only gotten worse.
"As smartphones encompass more and more of people's lives, everyone is turning to them more and more as every aspect of their existence has been digitized and made accessible to them 24/7," Romero told The Huffington Post via email.
You've probably noticed something like this in your own life: You're at dinner with someone, there's a lull in the conversation, and suddenly both of you are checking your smartphones. Romero says the devices become an excuse to hide a "lost connection" between people.
"It is sad that this technology which was supposed to connect people is making them disconnect from each other in person," Romero told HuffPost.
Agree or not, his photos offer pretty striking evidence that people everywhere are hooked on their smartphones. Take a look for yourself by clicking on the Bored Panda link above.
Our basic assumptions about photos capturing reality are about to go up in smoke.
By Sarah Jeong, The Verge, August 22, 2024 (excerpts)
An explosion from the side of an old brick building. A crashed bicycle in a city intersection. A cockroach in a box of takeout. It took less than 10 seconds to create each of these images with the Reimagine tool in the Pixel 9’s Magic Editor. They are crisp. They are in full color. They are high-fidelity. There is no suspicious background blur, no tell-tale sixth finger. These photographs are extraordinarily convincing, and they are all extremely fucking fake.
Anyone who buys a Pixel 9 — the latest model of Google’s flagship phone, available starting this week — will have access to the easiest, breeziest user interface for top-tier lies, built right into their mobile device. This is all but certain to become the norm, with similar features already available on competing devices and rolling out on others in the near future. When a smartphone “just works,” it’s usually a good thing; here, it’s the entire problem in the first place.
Photography has been used in the service of deception for as long as it has existed. (Consider Victorian spirit photos, the infamous Loch Ness monster photograph, or Stalin’s photographic purges of IRL-purged comrades.) But it would be disingenuous to say that photographs have never been considered reliable evidence. Everyone who is reading this article in 2024 grew up in an era where a photograph was, by default, a representation of the truth. A staged scene with movie effects, a digital photo manipulation, or more recently, a deepfake — these were potential deceptions to take into account, but they were outliers in the realm of possibility. It took specialized knowledge and specialized tools to sabotage the intuitive trust in a photograph. Fake was the exception, not the rule.
If I say Tiananmen Square, you will, most likely, envision the same photograph I do. This also goes for Abu Ghraib or napalm girl. These images have defined wars and revolutions; they have encapsulated truth to a degree that is impossible to fully express. There was no reason to express why these photos matter, why they are so pivotal, why we put so much value in them.
Our trust in photography was so deep that when we spent time discussing veracity in images, it was more important to belabor the point that it was possible for photographs to be fake, sometimes. This is all about to flip — the default assumption about a photo is about to become that it’s faked, because creating realistic and believable fake photos is now trivial to do. We are not prepared for what happens after...
No one on Earth today has ever lived in a world where photographs were not the linchpin of social consensus — for as long as any of us has been here, photographs proved something happened. Consider all the ways in which the assumed veracity of a photograph has, previously, validated the truth of your experiences. The preexisting ding in the fender of your rental car. The leak in your ceiling. The arrival of a package. An actual, non-AI-generated cockroach in your takeout. When wildfires encroach upon your residential neighborhood, how do you communicate to friends and acquaintances the thickness of the smoke outside?
We briefly lived in an era in which the photograph was a shortcut to reality, to knowing things, to having a smoking gun. It was an extraordinarily useful tool for navigating the world around us. We are now leaping headfirst into a future in which reality is simply less knowable. The lost Library of Alexandria could have fit onto the microSD card in my Nintendo Switch, and yet the cutting edge of technology is a handheld telephone that spews lies as a fun little bonus feature.
An aerial view of protesters holding banners during a demonstration in Tel Aviv against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's judicial overhaul plans. Tens of thousands of protesters took to the streets of Israeli cities for the ninth straight week, on Saturday March 4th, to fight a government plan to overhaul the country's court system.
A selection of fruit from the Citrus Biological Resource Center in San Giuliano, Corsica, including, clockwise from top left, Corsican citrons, makrut limes, Meyer lemons, Timor pomelos, Okitsu Satsuma mandarins, bergamot oranges, Clanor sweet oranges, clementines, Page mandarins, Samuyao papedas, Clemendor mandarins, Star Ruby grapefruits, Chinotto sour oranges, variegated lemons, variegated sour oranges, Fukushu kumquats, Buddha’s hand citrons, Hong Kong kumquats, Brown River finger limes and Faustrime finger lime hybrids. Photo by François Halard
ByZoey Poll, The New York Times Style Magazine, 20 February 2021
IN THE LATE 1600s, an unusual tree appeared in northern Corsica that bore both acidic lemons and sweet oranges. The tree, which grew in a secluded hilltop village, went unnoticed for centuries, alternating between the two fruits like a soft-serve ice cream dispenser: A single branch might yield not only oranges and lemons but also fruits that are part lemon, part orange.
Some 300 years later, an amateur pomologist discovered the tree. He traced its age using records from a local monastery, then alerted the leading rare-citrus authority in France, the Citrus Biological Resource Center in San Giuliano, on the island’s eastern coast. An open-air library, the center maintains trees that grow lemons as sweet as plums and as large as bell peppers; grapefruits the size of birthday balloons; garnet red hybrid clementines and green tangerines. The scientists who work there engineer new varieties and preserve early iterations of forgotten and near-extinct fruits, such as the Spanish Sucreña orange, remembered by some Valencians born before 1960 for its intensely sweet juice. Since 1997, the conservancy has been home to that lemon-orange tree, which the staff identified as a graft chimera, the botanical equivalent of the mythical lion-headed, serpent-tailed goat.
Founded in 1958 with trees imported from North Africa, the conservancy — run jointly by the French National Research Institute for Agriculture, Food and the Environment (INRAE) and the French Agricultural Research Center for International Development (CIRAD) — promotes citriculture in Corsica and throughout France. Its remote location helps protect the plants against disease, as do safety protocols such as a cryogenic seed bank and an insect-proof greenhouse. While many countries, including the United States, China, Brazil and Japan, maintain citrus collections, France’s is among the largest, with a 32-acre orchard that includes 300-plus varieties of mandarin oranges alone. Across the street, scientists work in the center’s laboratory, studying citrus-specific diseases and the effects of climate change — warmer summers and winters make the fruit sweeter — in addition to the genus’s genetic history. Besides breeding hardier and more intriguing new fruit, the researchers also test commercial applications for existing ones, whether in cocktails, pharmaceuticals or perfume.
AS OF LATE, the center — which isn’t open to the public — has also become a pilgrimage site for French chefs, pâtissiers and fragrance-house noses, who often learn about it from their own suppliers; many citrus trees at pedigreed French farms can be traced back to buds and seeds from San Giuliano’s orchard. Pierre Hermé, the master of French macarons, visits every summer, as does Anne-Sophie Pic, a three-Michelin-star chef based in Valence, ready to sample a mild, sweet Israeli pomelo or an acidless ancient Italian orange with a subtle vanilla scent.
While the institute doesn’t compete with commercial producers, it has been known to make gifts of the rarest varieties; some chefs, like Pic, arrive with an empty bag. Back at her namesake restaurant, she plates honey-flavored Murcott tangor alongside skinless cherry tomatoes and crowns the meringue of her île flottante dessert with the zest of the American Wekiwa tangelolo, its floral flavor the result of breeding a grapefruit-tangerine hybrid with another grapefruit. These tasting expeditions at San Giuliano have inspired not only Pic’s menus but those of other leading French chefs as well, including Fabio Bragagnolo, who runs Casadelmar in southern Corsica, where he garnishes roast lamb with candied slices of syrupy, bitter Chinotto orange.
Contemporary French cuisine, of course, relies above all on the country’s specialized produce, terroir and agricultural heritage, and there are similar government-run parcels for cherries in Bordeaux, alliums in Brittany and nightshades in Avignon. As public institutions, they collect exhaustively, a luxury inaccessible to commercial farmers who remain subject to the whims of shifting consumer tastes and profit margins. In that way, the citrus conservancy serves as a corrective of sorts, a place where chefs can be inspired by the wildness of an entire genus, where a familiar yellow lemon grows beside its ancestors, the sour orange and the citron, but also its baroque cousins, like the blood lemon, marked by vivid red streaks on its rind, and the Beldi lemon, an aromatic Moroccan variety with hints of bergamot — all of which are descendants of a few distinct Southeast Asian citrus trees. “You might think you know a fruit,” says the chef Pierre Sang Boyer, who runs three popular namesake restaurants in Paris’s 11th Arrondissement. But at San Giuliano, “you learn it has a history — and you learn how nature works.”
This photographer will make you think again about your phone use
Seeing things differently: A family in Ha Noi, Viet Nam, are captured in Eric Pickersgill's project
Image: Eric Pickersgill, 2018
We've all done it: blanked out the world around us to stare at the beguiling screen of our mobile phone.
The photographer Eric Pickersgill has captured what this means for our personal lives in a series of disconcerting images. The project is called Removed, because Pickersgill physically removes the phones from his subjects' hands, but asks them to hold their posture and focus.
The idea was prompted by a commonplace visit to a café, which Pickersgill wrote about as follows:
Family sitting next to me at Illium café in Troy, NY is so disconnected from one another. Not much talking. Father and two daughters have their own phones out. Mom doesn’t have one or chooses to leave it put away. She stares out the window, sad and alone in the company of her closest family. Dad looks up every so often to announce some obscure piece of info he found online. Twice he goes on about a large fish that was caught. No one replies. I am saddened by the use of technology for interaction in exchange for not interacting. This has never happened before and I doubt we have scratched the surface of the social impact of this new experience. Mom has her phone out now.
Pickersgill is not set on demonizing the smartphone, but drawing attention to the way it can erode our relationships if we're not aware of our habits.
"I think there are many reasons to use our devices and I certainly have a professional relationship with mine. I also do not want to pass judgment on people who may be using a device to look up a popular coffee shop or perhaps checking in to let their loved one know that they made it to a destination safely. When I made the series it was a response to realizing how quickly my own habits had shifted and how much my wife and I were on our phones which was not the case when we first started dating," he explained, by email.
"The work has drastically changed my relationship to my phone," the photographer added. "Especially as a new father, because I do not want to normalize constant screen time for my young son. I am very strict about not bringing it to bed at night and I am purposeful about not going to it when I find myself between tasks or waiting for something. Those times when we let our mind wander are when the most brilliant ideas come to us. When we fill the empty time with more distraction, we never truly spend time with our thoughts or with ourselves. That time of reflection and meditation is priceless. It can often afford us the clarity to make decisions that really change our lives for the better."
A Deloitte study found that Americans check their phones on average 46 times per day, while more than half of the world’s population now uses a smartphone.
In Asia, the mobile phone has exploded onto the scene. ASEAN is one of the fastest-growing emerging smartphone markets, with people on average spending 3.6 hours on the mobile internet every day.
These images are from a special series of Removed, commissioned by the World Economic Forum as part of our ASEAN 2018 summit which is taking place in Ha Noi, Viet Nam from September 11-13.
Pickersgill travelled to four cities in the region ‒ Ha Noi, Yangon, Singapore and Jakarta ‒ where he was hosted by members of the World Economic Forum Global Shapers Community. The images may capture different settings, but the expressions are strikingly familiar.
Alison Jackson's photography explores the cult of celebrity and how it's created through imagery and the media. An award-winning artist from the UK, Jackson's work has garnered both praise and condemnation. Many people are now taking notice, including President Donald Trump.
The work of photographer Anthony Hernandez (born 1947) is at once highly personal and deeply resonant. His retrospective at the Mapfre Foundation in Madrid spans his more than 45-year career, revealing an unusually varied body of of photographs united by their arresting formal beauty and subtle engagement with contemporary social issues. The Mapfre galleries chart his continual reconceptualization of his approach, tracing his deft movement from black and white to color, 35 mm to large-format cameras, ans from the human figure to landscapes to abstracted detail. Hernandez began making pictures on the streets of his native Los Angeles in the late 1960s. Essentially self-taught, he had taken dark room classes at East Los Angeles College, but was largely unaware of the history of the medium and its formal traditions. Rather than perpetuating Hollywood's idealized image of the city, he chose instead to photograph the LA inhabited by the working class, the poor and the homeless, developing a unique style of photography attuned to the desolate beauty and sprawling expanses of his hometown. From the start, he has found visual poetry in what could be dismissed as inner city blight and has seen aesthetic potential in the abandoned and discarded. While Hernandez has also photographed in other locations in the US and Europe, Los Angeles has remained his primary subject. Despite the many shifts in his practice over the years, Hernandez still considers himself a street photographer. Endlessly curious, he relishes the process of discovery and sees his medium as a means of understanding the world around him. He remains true to his conviction that great photography is the result of more than just a keen eye. As Hernandez once noted, "Being aware is more important than the evidence of the awareness on a piece of paper. Being sensitive to what passes in front of you is more important than what passes into the camera." Erin O'Toole, Curator
Anthony Hernandez is organized by the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in collaboration with Fundación MAPFRE, Bárbara de Braganza 12, 28004 Madrid. From January 31 to May 12, 2019.
Protecting the environments become the most important crossroad of our time. Our existence depends on the conservation of the planet. Therefore, the research projects whose purpose is to guarantee this survival are key to our very own future as a species. 130 years ago, there was an identical desire to learn about our environment in order to improve it. This brought together 33 scholars including natural scientists, geographers, cartographers, educators, lawyers, and fom the military, to create an entity which would contribute to extending the boundaries of knowledge of geography. Thus was born the National Geographic Society, founded on a cold day, 27 January 1888 in Washington D.C. by this heterogeneous group of wise men, among which were philanthropist Gardiner Greene Hubbard, the first President of the Society, and his son-in-law, British inventor, scientist, and speech therapist Alexander Graham Bell, who succeeded him as President. Since then, National Geographic has become the most important non-profit institution in the world, and an absolute reference when it comes to exploration and research. Under the protection of the yellow frame of its iconic logo, in the last century and a half the National Geographic Society has supported the careers of scientists and researchers from all around the world. Figures such as the North Pole explorer Robert E. Peary, or the man who discovered the city of Machu Pichu, Hiram Bingham, as well as those who are closer to our contemporary period. This is the case of the primatologists Jane Goodall and Diane Fossey; the oceanographer and marine archaeologist who discovered the remains of the Titanic, Robert Ballard; film-maker James Cameron; Spanish marine biologist, Enric Sala; and the recent winner of the 2018 Princess of Asturias Award, also a marine biologist, Sylvia Earle.
"A Window to the World. 130 Years of National Geographic" shows not only the history of the Society and its legacy, but also the evolution of an institution that has been capable of adapting to the times, and to vary the definitions of its main missions according to the demands of the said missions. Although when it started out the goal of the 33 founders was to explore the geography of the world and search for places that were still unknown to man, the challenges have varied according to the times to accommodate other priorities. Geography has given way to exploration of other worlds: space, with articles and documentaries about NASA missions and unknown universes such as Mars, and the oceans, the latest current frontier, source of life from the beginning of our planet, and one of the main conservation missions in order to guarantee the survival of our species. In the words of Sylvia Earle, "No Blue, No Green," in reference to how much we depend on the sustainability of the seabed in order to recover the environmental balance. Through photographs, videos, and iconic objects, the exhibition delves into these issues, presented in five sections, through which we will learn more about the early days, but especially about the present and future of National Geographic, its missions and their meaning. Visitors will begin their journey in Terra incognita, where we celebrate the birth of the Society and the age of expeditions. In Origin, visitors will learn about the explorations that have contributed to discovering our development as a species. In De Profundis, we propose a look at this essential underwater world, with the presence of the Pristine Project, the mission set up by Enric Sala in 2008 to explore the last wild underwater enclaves. In The Future at Stake we look towards space, but also to the challenges that we have as a species to reverse the degradation of our natural environment, and finally, the Coexistence section shows us other challenges that National Geographic also currently addresses, such as gender and racial diversity in our global society, the most relevant issues of the present. The exhibition A Window to the World. 130 Years of National Geographic is on at the Espacio Telefónica in Madrid (Fuencarral, 3) until February 24th, 2019.