Catalog of 1,075 photographs, taken by American photographer Taryn Simon, of detained or seized items from passengers and express mail entering the United States from abroad, taken at the U.S. Customs and Border Protection Federal Inspection Site and the U.S. Postal Service International Mail Facility at John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York.

A fascinating glimpse into the New York Public Library's historic image archive

Taryn Simon?s 'The Color of a Flea?s Eye' presents a history of the New York Public Library?s Picture Collection?a legendary trove of more than one million prints, photographs, postcards, posters and images from disused books and periodicals. Since its inception in 1915, the Picture Collection has been a vital resource for writers, historians, artists, filmmakers, fashion designers and advertising agencies.0In her work 'The Picture Collection' (2012-20), Simon (born 1975) highlighted the impulse to organize visual information, and pointed to the invisible hands behind seemingly neutral systems of image gathering. Each of Simon?s photographs is made up of an array of images selected from a given subject folder, such as Chiaroscuro, Handshaking, Haircombing, Express Highways, Financial Panics, Israel, and Beards and Mustaches. In artfully overlapped compositions, only slices of the individual images are visible, each fragment suggesting its whole. Simon sees this extensive archive of images as the precursor to internet search engines. Such an unlikely futurity in the past is at the core of the Picture Collection. The digital is foreshadowed in the analogue, at the same time that history?its classifications, its contents?seems the stuff of projection.

In 1936, an ornithologist called James Bond released the definitive taxonomy of birds found in the Caribbean, titled Birds of the West Indies. Ian Fleming, an active bird watcher living in Jamaica, subsequently appropriated the name for his novel's lead character. He found it to be perfectly "ordinary", "brief", "Anglo-Saxon" and "masculine". This co-opting of names was the first replacement in a series of substitutions that would become central to the construction of the Bond narrative. In a meticulous and comprehensive dissection of the Bond films, artist Taryn Simon (*1975 in New York) inventoried women, weapons and vehicles in Bond. The contents of these categories function as essential accessories to the narrative's myth of the seductive, powerful, and invincible western male. In Birds of the West Indies, Simon presents a visual database of interchangeable variables used in the production of fantasy, through which she examines the economic and emotional value generated by their repetition.Exhibition schedule: 2013 Carnegie International, Pittsburgh October 5, 2013-March 16, 2014

In each of the eighteen 'chapters' that make up the work, the external forces of territory, power, circumstance or religion collide with the internal forces of psychological and physical inheritance. The subjects documented by Simon include feuding families in Brazil, victims of genocide in Bosnia, test rabbits infected with a lethal disease in Australia, the first woman to hijack an aircraft, and the living dead in India. Her collection is at once cohesive and arbitrary, mapping the relationships among chance, blood, and other components of fate. A Living Man Declared Dead and Other Chapters is divided into eighteen chapters. Each chapter is comprised of three segments: an annotation, a large portrait series depicting bloodline members and a second series containing photographic evidence. 817 portraits are systematically arranged within their chapters. Simon includes empty portraits, representing living members of a bloodline who could not be photographed. The reasons for these absences are provided in the captions and include imprisonment, military service, dengue fever and women not granted permission to be photographed. Simon's presentation explores the struggle to determine codes and patterns embedded in the narratives she documents. These narratives are recognisable as variants (versions, renderings, adaptations) of historical or future episodes. In contrast to the systematic ordering of a bloodline, the seductive elements of these stories - violence, resilience, corruption and survival - disorient the work's highly structured appearance. A Living Man Declared Dead and Other Chapters, will accompany an exhibition of the same name at Tate Modern, London; Neue Nationalgalerie, Berlin; and Museum of Modern Art, New York. Like the exhibition, the book will also be broken into eighteen chapters. Each chapter will house photographs of the work and extended captions and texts by Simon. Critical essays within the tome are by Geoffrey Batchen and Homi Bhabha.

"Photographer Taryn Simon brings us face-to-face with individuals falsely accused and convicted. While mugshots and photo arrays are used to condemn and imprison these innocents, Simon has turned the camera around to document these victims of mistaken identity and perverted justice. Through Simon's interviews with each, the men and women in this book confront the paradox of innocence and imprisonment, the inability to recover the years stolen from them, and the states' unconscionable refusal to compensate them or ease their traumatic transition to civilian life."--BOOK JACKET.

The most dangerous commodity of all... Joe "Skid" Marak, aka the pilot, is a compulsive smuggler. For him, borders are an outrage to freedom. He lives with his pet rat in the abandoned spire of Manhattan's TransCom Building. His friends are outcasts in a world ripped by plague and repression. The pilot knows his days are numbered. On his ECM-pak, he watches helplessly as his freetrading comrades vanish from the screen: victims of a mysterious force known only as "Bokon Taylay." The brother of his Rollerblading, go-go-dancing girlfriend is Taylay's latest victim. All that is left behind is a smuggled message telling the pilot he must locate the one man who can break Taylay's code, the legendary author of the Smuggler's Bible--a man who may not even exist. It's a risk worth taking. Because to the pilot, there's only one contraband more valuable than life--freedom.