Teju Cole

The violence of his era can be found in his serene masterpieces — if you know where to look.

A photographer considers the pandemic, domesticity, intimacy, slavery and the history of Cambridge, Mass.

The work the artist made near the end of his life changed my understanding of both beauty and suffering.

History’s first draft is almost always wrong — but we still have to try and write it.

Images of brutality should do more than provide a quick emotional fix. They should indict the viewer.

In his final On Photography column, Teju Cole argues that images of human suffering often implicitly serves the powers that be.

In a time of omnipresent digital images, books remain one of the most powerful ways of showing the riches of photography.

Among young women in Troy, N.Y., the photographer Brenda Ann Kenneally captures a spiral of aimlessness and trouble.

For more than four decades, Robert Adams’s landscape photographs have reminded us of what has been lost in America, and what endures.

How are we to live in this? How are we to truly inhabit “resistance”?

Photographing faces has become a means of surveillance, but a carefully made portrait can still, like nothing else, remind us of a common humanity.

The places we go aren’t passive; they invite us to photograph them in certain ways.

Images of violence can desensitize us, but they can also remind us of our common bond.

Lorna Simpson’s work with photographs and other media is a masterclass in layering

Five photographs reveal the evolution of a master street photographer.

Work that felt not only moving but also necessary.

In the aftermath of the Las Vegas shooting, photography’s long engagement with broken windows took on a new, sorrowful meaning.

Maria Cosindas’s dreamlike photographs have a magic all their own.

Through blur, darkness and drift, the photographer Santu Mofokeng shows that black South Africans are more than their suffering.

Her death prompted a search for her in photographs — our reservoirs of memory, our talismans of mourning.