Author Archives: James Cockroft

What is there to say about Mike Mandel and Larry Sultan’s classic, groundbreaking, and wildly influential Evidence? I don’t really know, as I haven’t read any reviews in quite awhile, so I’ll just ramble on for a bit and maybe say something new or different—and probably very, very wrong.

Charles Johnstone and Heather Malesson‘s Escape is the follow up to their well-regarded, out of print, and far out-of-my-price-range The Girl in the Fifth Floor Walk-up. I recall reading something about the earlier book, looking for it, finding it out of print and far too expensive, and snatching up a copy of Escape to a) …

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I tend to stay away from Instagram. The feed is incomprehensible these days: it’s 80% ads or Suggested accounts (which are mostly ads), and finding actual posts from the actual humans I follow is nigh-on impossible. Somehow, though, back on January 22, 2023, I stumbled across @swerdnaekalb’s thumbnail review of Bobby Abrahamson‘s Rabbit and ordered …

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It’s probably heresy to talk about Larry Sultan’s Swimmers (1978-1982) before mentioning Evidence. I mean, Evidence is famous, and Swimmers, while exhibited a few times, was never before published and was (as far as I know) largely unknown prior to this book coming out. I don’t feel too bad, though: I seem to be going …

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For a photo series about a backyard swimming pool that proves I’m not a total prude or landlubber, I present Charles Johnstone’s The Summerhouse Pool, featuring Lea Simone Allegria.

Maybe I don’t really get it, and if I said I vastly preferred Deanna Templeton’s What She Said to her sorta conceptual The Swimming Pool, would you hold it against me?

If you don’t have enough reasons to leave Twitter, I may have another: