In a world where nearly everyone has a cellphone camera capable of zapping countless instant photos, it can be a challenge to remember just how special and transformative Polaroid photography was in its day. And yet, there’s still something magical for those of us who recall waiting for a Polaroid picture to develop. Writing in the context of two Polaroid Corporation bankruptcies, not to mention the obsolescence of its film, Peter Buse argues that Polaroid was, and is, distinguished by its process—by the fact that, as the New York Times put it in 1947, “the camera does the rest.” Polaroid was often dismissed as a toy, but Buse takes it seriously, showing how it encouraged photographic play as well as new forms of artistic practice. Drawing on unprecedented access to the archives of the Polaroid Corporation, Buse reveals Polaroid as photography at its most intimate, where the photographer, photograph, and subject sit in close proximity in both time and space—making Polaroid not only the perfect party camera but also the tool for frankly salacious pictures taking. Along the way, Buse tells the story of the Polaroid Corporation and its ultimately doomed hard-copy wager against the rising tide of digital imaging technology. He explores the continuities and the differences between Polaroid and digital, reflecting on what Polaroid can tell us about how we snap photos today. Richly illustrated, The Camera Does the Rest will delight historians, art critics, analog fanatics, photographers, and all those who miss the thrill of waiting to see what develops.

What makes Polaroid photography stand out? Since its invention by Edwin Land in 1947, how has it crept into our common culture in the ways we witness today? Writing in the context of the two bankruptcies of Polaroid Corporation and the decline and obsolescence of its film, Peter Buse argues that Polaroid photography is distinguished by its process. The fact that, as the "New York Times" put it, the camera does the rest, encouraged distinctive practices by the camera s users, including its most famous use: as a party camera. Polaroid was often dismissed as a toy, but this book takes its status as a toy seriously, considering the way it opened up photographic play while simultaneously lowering its own cultural value. Drawing on unprecedented access to the archives of the Polaroid Corporation, Buse paints Polaroid as an intimate form, where the photographer, photograph, and photographed are in close proximity in time and space. This has profound implications for the photographic practices Polaroid cameras permit and encourage, such as the sexual Polaroid, evidence of which the author pulls from literature, film, and pop culture, or Polaroid as a form of play, a fun technology, an ice breaker that can make things happen. Buse also tells the story of Polaroid s response as a company to developments in digital imaging and its ultimately doomed hard-copy wager in the face of them. Pushing further, he explores the continuities and discontinuities between Polaroid and digital snapshot practices, reflecting on what Polaroid can tell us about digital photography today. "

This is a working camera that pops up from the pages of a book..The book concisely explains--and actively demonstrates--how a structure as humble as a folded piece of paper can tap into the intrinsic properties of light to produce a photograph.The book includes:- a piece of paper folded into a working 4x5" camera- a lightproof bag- 5 sheets of photo-paper "film"- development instructions (from complete DIY to "outsource it")- a foil-stamped cover- a satisfying demonstration of the connection between design & science / structures & functions

As both an art form and a universal language, the photograph has an extraordinary ability to connect and communicate with others. But with over one trillion photos taken each year, why do so few of them truly connect? Why do so few of them grab our emotions or our imaginations? It is not because the images lack focus or proper exposure; with advances in technology, the camera does that so well these days. Photographer David duChemin believes the majority of our images fall short because they lack soul. And without soul, the images have no ability to resonate with others. They simply cannot connect with the viewer, or even—if we’re being truthful—with ourselves.

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In The Soul of the Camera: The Photographer’s Place in Picture-Making, David explores what it means to make better photographs. Illustrated with a collection of beautiful black-and-white images, the book’s essays address topics such as craft, mastery, vision, audience, discipline, story, and authenticity. The Soul of the Camera is a personal and deeply pragmatic book that quietly yet forcefully challenges the idea that our cameras, lenses, and settings are anything more than dumb and mute tools. It is the photographer, not the camera, that can and must learn to make better photographs—photographs that convey our vision, connect with others, and, at their core, contain our humanity. The Soul of the Camera helps us do that.

Shooter is a visual portrait of war--the perseverance, heroism, and survival--narrated through stunning photographs and powerful essays from a female combat photographer.

"Examining the themes of presence and absence, the relationship between photography and theatre, history and death, these 'reflections on photography' begin as an investigation into the nature of photographs. Then, as Barthes contemplates a photograph of his mother as a child, the book becomes an exposition of his own mind."--Alibris.