A presentation of the archive of Leslie Sheddon which intends to function as a critical investigation of the conditions of cultural production at a very specific moment: their historical intersection between colonization and marginalization, its social and political implications, and its cultural consquences.

Born in New York in 1909, Milton Rogovin has been photographing coal miners since 1962. Men and women portrayed at a mine entrance, covered in coal dust, are barely recognizable in the accompanying photographs, where they stand in their own homes. This text presents more than 100 of these powerful images.

Since the 1960s, a significant effort has been underway to program computers to “see” the human face—to develop automated systems for identifying faces and distinguishing them from one another—commonly known as Facial Recognition Technology. While computer scientists are developing FRT in order to design more intelligent and interactive machines, businesses and states agencies view the technology as uniquely suited for “smart” surveillance—systems that automate the labor of monitoring in order to increase their efficacy and spread their reach. Tracking this technological pursuit, Our Biometric Future identifies FRT as a prime example of the failed technocratic approach to governance, where new technologies are pursued as shortsighted solutions to complex social problems. Culling news stories, press releases, policy statements, PR kits and other materials, Kelly Gates provides evidence that, instead of providing more security for more people, the pursuit of FRT is being driven by the priorities of corporations, law enforcement and state security agencies, all convinced of the technology’s necessity and unhindered by its complicated and potentially destructive social consequences. By focusing on the politics of developing and deploying these technologies, Our Biometric Future argues not for the inevitability of a particular technological future, but for its profound contingency and contestability.

What can photographs reveal about Canada’s nuclear footprint? The Bomb in the Wilderness contends that photography is central to how we interpret and remember nuclear activities. The impact and global reach of Canada’s nuclear programs have been felt ever since the atomic bombs dropped on Japan in 1945. But do photographs alert viewers to nuclear threat, numb them to its dangers, or actually do both? John O’Brian’s wide-ranging and personal account of the nuclear era presents and discusses over a hundred photographs, ranging from military images to the atomic ephemera of consumer culture. His fascinating analysis ensures that we do not look away.

Theorists critique photography for ÒobjectifyingÓ its subjects and manipulating appearance for the sake of art. In this bold counterargument, John Roberts recasts photographyÕs violating powers and aesthetic technique as part of a complex Òsocial ontologyÓ that exposes the hierarchies, divisions, and exclusions behind appearances. Photography must Òarrive unannouncedÓ and Òget in the way of the world,Ó Roberts argues, committing to the truth-claims of the spectator over the self-interests and sensitivities of the subject. Yet even though the violating capacity of the photograph results from external power relations, the photographer is still faced with an ethical choice: whether to advance photographyÕs truth-claims on the basis of these powers or to diminish or veil these powers to protect the integrity of the subject. PhotographyÕs acts of intrusion and destabilization constantly test the photographer at the point of production, in the darkroom, and at the computer, especially in our 24-hour digital image culture. RobertsÕs refunctioning of photographyÕs place in the world is therefore critically game-changing, as it politically and theoretically restores the reputation of the art.