"For a knowledge of intimacy, localization in the spaces of our intimacy is more urgent than determination of dates." So wrote French philosopher Gaston Bachelard in The Poetics of Space, his masterpiece that takes a profound look at how we experience intimate places. In the book, Bachelard narrates an exploration of space and place in a poetic voice—something Contender I-Hsuen Chen does much the same with his camera in In Your Place, another body of work he'd submitted after receiving an Honorable Mention and winning the Blurb prize in the Second Edition 2011 round of competition.

Untitled, by I-Hsuen Chen

Chen explores the poetics of everyday life by visiting his friends at their homes, who mostly like himself are foreign students living in New York City. Though careful not to disturb the everday-ness, Chen's presence inevitably changes the dynamics within the confined space. Visually, the bare walls and basic furnishings give a hint of temporariness, but also create a sort of accidental minimalism—perhaps offering a glimpse into the lives of this particular group, although documentation is not Chen's intention. He writes in the statement:

Entering my friends' private spaces, I try to capture their intimate living scenarios in New York. I am a gentle intruder creating different sub-plots that become part of their life. The whole visit becomes a Happening. I document this Happening with my camera.

Untitled, by I-Hsuen Chen

Chen, who abandoned a career in marketing in his hometown, Taipei, to pursue photography in Brooklyn, NY, is also a trained opera singer, and a performance and video artist. In May, he will earn his MFA in photography from Pratt Institute and will be showing his Nowhere in Taiwan series at the New York Photo Festival Invitational Exhibition, opening today at powerHouse Arena in DUMBO, Brooklyn.

Yu-Ping, by I-Hsuen Chen

Untitled, by Horatio Baltz

Untitled, by Horatio Baltz

Baltz explains:

These are a collection of images I have collected over the years shooting portraits. Like many photographers, it was hard for me at first to overcome my seemingly crippling shyness. Over time I learned that "taking" pictures is less about "taking" and more about "giving" or "sharing." People are flattered to be immortalized on film. If you break through that thin veil of suspicion, I think inside we all cry out for the attention [from] one another. At the very least, a few shared moments with a stranger give all of us a bit more dignity in this world.

Untitled, by Horatio Baltz

Untitled, by Horatio Baltz

Horatio Baltz is a Brooklyn-based graphic artist who likes taking pictures. He was born in Mississippi, was brought up in Eastern Pennsylvania and is a first generation American—the son of a steel worker and a cosmetologist. In 2008, Horatio obtained his BFA in communication design from Parsons School of Design. Aside from being a graphic artist and photographer, Horatio is also a musician. For a more thorough and colorful account of Horatio's life, click here.

Untitled, by Horatio Baltz

Untitled, from the series Lost Villages, 2011 by Neil A. White

Untitled, from the series Lost Villages, 2012 by Neil A. White

White explains:

This project explores the constant battle between the power of the ocean and the mainland, and it documents the irreversible change taking place on the Holderness coast. The speed of the erosion has increased significantly in the past decade, thanks to rising sea levels, which is linked to climate change.

Some of the inspiration and ideas for the project has come from the history surrounding the coast line. I also see this work as a historical record. Today, the village experiencing the severest threat is Skipsea. With a population of around 600, many homes there are set to disappear completely in the next five years. The average annual rate of erosion is around two meters [nearly seven feet] of land per year. What drew me to this coastal area, though, is not just its reputation as one of the fastest eroding coastlines in Europe, but also because it is very close to where I grew up; I visited the area on family trips.

Untitled, from the series Lost Villages, 2011 by Neil A. White

Untitled, from the series Lost Villages, 2011 by Neil A. White

Neil A. White (b. 1972) is an English-born photographer and teacher currently living in London, U.K. His interest in photography began in his early twenties while working and traveling in Australasia and Asia. Perhaps the roots of this interest, though, go back even further than that. As a child, Neil's parents would give him their Kodak Instamatic to take family portraits because they believed he always took the best pictures. Neil never liked posed shots or unnatural smiles; when his parents indicated they were ready to be photographed he had already taken the picture. Growing up in the north of England, Neil would escape to the countryside whenever he could. This fascination with the natural world and contrasting environments is at the heart of his photography and is an infinite source of inspiration. His work explores the relationship between nature and the modern world, and how they co-exist, sometimes harmoniously, more often in conflict with one another. He sees this conflict as one of the key dilemmas of modern day existence. When taking pictures of landscapes, he tries to connect with the land, to feel the air and the light and to bring those feelings into his photographs. Neil's work tends to be reflective and is often quiet and deeply personal. The relationship humans have with the natural world is of great interest to Neil and this is a common thread that runs through much of his work. When he is not photographing or teaching, Neil still takes every opportunity to escape into the countryside. He is also interested in politics and environmental issues and is committed to promoting practical solutions to environmental challenges.

Untitled, from the series Lost Villages, 2012 by Neil A. White

band aid, 2010 by Emma Gluckman

sewing lesson, 2010 by Emma Gluckman

Gluckman explains:

Dissociative behavior, repressed memories, insomnia, the aftermath of assault—all things that come and spin like gumballs in my subconscious while the world around me is muted, like my psyche is wearing earmuffs. I second-guess my memories and scrutinize my body. I try to hush my internal clamor by reaching for my camera. I find ritual catharsis when I arrange objects, bodies and bedrooms; paste, stretch and twist; and take a damn picture so I can stop thinking about it already. Sometimes I shoot spontaneously. Sometimes a found moment beckons an emotion I am unable to articulate. Frequently my images are carefully posed, or temporary installations I've documented photographically. I am interested in the notion of a photograph as evidence of a moment, and the moments I'm attempting to transcribe are flashes of my subconscious, the way a hypnogogic brain reassembles images from a wakeful experience to manifest disquieting scenes. Each scene exists in a room in the flesh dollhouse of my body, connected by ethereal hallways. My aim is not to lead a viewer through my specific narrative—rather I wish to evoke an emotional reaction that mirrors my own state. I encourage a viewer to explore that which may be grotesque or melancholy in themselves, and the difficult-to-acknowledge parallel reality of the subconscious.

red phone, 2010 by Emma Gluckman

pelt, 2010 by Emma Gluckman

horse, polaroids and chair, 2009 by Emma Gluckman

Emma Gluckman was born and raised by a painter and a psychiatrist, and she was given her first camera (the one she still uses) at the age of 16. A Brooklyn-based photographer, she is interested in the idea of temporary psychological landscape. She often constructs installations before shoots, and she utilizes discarded objects and distorted bodies to conjure scenes from the subconscious and hypnagogic states.

Colombo Market, 2008 by Kevin Tachman

House of Xtravaganza Ball, 2009 by Kevin Tachman

Kevin says of his submission:

These images come from disparate parts of my experiences documenting different parts of the world, from the epic stillness at one of the busiest places on earth, to the flight of a bird on [the] other side of the world. At [its] core, my work aims to be transportive to a singular moment, [to] give [a] feeling of space and time that will, hopefully, stay with the viewer long after the image is viewed. These are fleeting glimpses of our connected world into the exotic, the tranquil, the forbidden, the foreign, the kinetic—each depending on your place in the world and how you view it.

Ipanema Beach, 2011 by Kevin Tachman

Kevin Tachman is an award-winning documentary photographer who has garnered wide acclaim for his work in the worlds of fashion, entertainment and music. His photos have appeared in print and online publications such as Vogue, NYTimes.com, Marie Claire Russia, The Daily Beast, Elle Decor, and the Wall Street Journal. Tachman's specialty is capturing essential moments that express excitement, beauty and drama. Tachman is also sought after as an on-set photographer, documenting exclusive shoots for Patrick Demarchelier and Norman Jean Roy, among others. Tachman has also been the official photographer for such musical acts as the Scissor Sisters and Coldplay. In 2008, he was accepted to the highly selective Eddie Adams Workshop.

Tachman has won numerous awards for his work, including receiving the 2010 Award of Excellence from Pictures of the Year International, for his photo and first prize in PDN's 2011 The Look Contest, in the Runway/Street Scene category. He also won the 2010 Ultimate Music Moment Contest, sponsored by Billboard and PDN, for his photo of Yeah Yeah Yeahs lead singer Karen O onstage at the Music Hall of Williamsburg; Grand Prize in the Year in Music Moment Contest, also sponsored by Billboard and PDN, for his photo of Coldplay at Wachovia Arena; and First Prize in PDN's 2008 World in Focus contest, for an image from a personal project he shot in Sri Lanka.

Still Life with Charles Dickens's Great Expectations, 2011 by Juliette Tang

Still Life with Albert Camus's The Stranger, 2011 by Juliette Tang

Juliette explains:

First I read a book that inspires me. Next I construct an installation featuring the book in a milieu that is symbolically connected to the text. Then I photograph this in the manner of a still life. The goal is to capture the abstract world of a book as a concrete image, with help from the realism of everyday objects. I focus on a book's narrative rather than physical qualities. My photos are informed by the language, events and details that I notice in the complicated tapestry of word combinations that exist on the written page. In some pictures, I put myself in the place of a character and arrange the composition as if through their eyes. In other pictures, I try to somehow identify with the author or evoke what I think the author's spirit or intention might be, through my own visual interpretations. My literary still life photos are subjective to my private experience as a reader and reflect my own interpretations of themes, meanings and intentions found in the texts. They are images of books taken by and seen through the eyes of a deeply appreciative reader.

Still Life with Jean Rhy's Wide Sargasso Sea, 2011 by Juliette Tang

Still Life with Marcel Proust's Swann's Way, 2011 by Juliette Tang

Juliette Tang is a photographer based in San Francisco, where she lives in a Victorian house the color of an apricot macaroon. She is a recent graduate of Dartmouth College and holds a BA in english. English [is], in fact, her second language, though she only faintly remembers Mandarin, her first. Juliette is inspired by books, Dutch still life paintings and Merchant-Ivory productions. She is also a writer and filmmaker.

Still Life with The Bhagavad Gita, 2011 by Juliette Tang

1937 Wurlitzer Model 24 January 9, 2012, by Ken Brown

1937 Wurlitzer Model 24 January 9, 2012, by Ken Brown

Born and raised in Southern California, in the household of a classic car enthusiast, Ken Brown learned to appreciate the sways of a tailfin and the sparkle of a chrome bumper at an early age. California's film industry influences and attracts its young citizens. And for a while, Ken thought that would be his endeavor. A graduate of UCSC in Film Studies, his career path took a detour when he discovered still photography. Though his first love is the cinema—particularly Film Noir, Chiaroscuro and German Expressionist Cinematography—his still images retain the influences of this cinematic orientation. Ken's work represents the merging of these influences into automotive imagery. He lives and works in New York City.

1946 AMI January 10, 2012, by Ken Brown

Documentary photographers have to get close enough to their subjects to almost become one of them, but also stay just far enough to have a perspective. The intellects of a project are just as important as the aesthetics. Perhaps what's fascinating about documentary photographers is that they are all semi-professional (if not full-on) sociologists. In fact, Lewis Hine, often regarded as "the father of documentary," started his career as a sociologist. His photos of child labor not only helped the National Child Labor Committee's lobbying efforts to end the practice, but they also pioneered the concept that photography could be used as a tool for social change and reform. In today's world of visual overload, it's still captivating to see photographers get interested and involved in situations that are seemingly unrelated to their own backgrounds. Introducing Contender Andrew Querner, a Canadian reporting from Kosovo.

Miners' Change Room, Trepça, 2011 by Andrew Querner

For his project The Bread With Honey, Querner writes in his statement:

The Stan Terg mine located in Trepça, Kosovo, was once the jewel of a giant Yugoslavian mining conglomerate. Two thousand miners supplied factories and smelters throughout the region with lead, zinc and gold, among other metals. Power struggles in the 1990s—which resulted in the break-up of Yugoslavia and culminated in the civil war of 1999—crippled the mining operation. Since the end of the war, Stan Terg has struggled to survive, the victim of fallout from tensions between Kosovo's Serbian and Albanian population, political tensions between Kosovo and Serbia and post-independence growing pains. Over time, Stan Terg has reflected the history of the region's ethno-political strains. Often to the detriment of the operation itself, the forces at the mine's helm also tended to hold regional control. As a photographer, this relationship offered a point of entry to explore this ongoing struggle for power through the experience of the mine's current gatekeepers and the town above. More than a metaphor for the region's complex politics, however, the mine has come to represent the potential for an economic independence, a symbol of hope that, in my experience, embodies the driving sentiment of Kosovo's 1.8 million people.

Engineer, Trepça, 2011 by Andrew Querner

Andrew Querner holds a Bachelor of Commerce from University of British Columbia and is currently based in Canmore, Alberta, working as a portrait and documentary photographer. His editorial work has appeared in such magazines as TIME, Monocle, The Saturday Telegraph and Report on Business.

In photography, new subjects are found everyday; techniques and technologies are updated more frequently than one can keep up with: the rise of digital, the demise of film. As with everything else in life, photography is moving forward all the time. Or is it? The subject and the camera might be new, but the image-making process, the concept behind it, has remained the same. And there's nothing wrong with that. It is the very practice of photography, after all. Wonderful works are still being produced every day; there's no real need to reinvent the wheel. But we didn't get to this point by merely repeating a practice. Someone has always had to do something a little bit differently, a little bit new. We are very glad that Jordan Tate, a 2010 HHS! semi-finalist, is still thinking new.

Untitled, from the series New Work, by Jordan Tate

With his submission, which is part of his previous ongoing project, New Work, Tate continues to ask the question: What is image-making? He writes in his statement:

New Work is an exploration of visual language and process. In a sense it is an examination of how we see, what we see, what merits being seen and how images function in contemporary visual culture. Frequently, the photographic image is still viewed as a mechanical reproduction of reality. In this paradigm, the photograph functions not as an autonomous object loaded with historical and functional contexts, but rather as a conceptually transparent representation of a reproduced reality. New Work represents a shift away from the context of photograph as mechanical reproduction and is an acknowledgement of the image-maker as the mediator of sight, as well as an exploration of process and practice in contemporary image viewing and production. These images are a continuation of ongoing research/meta-photographic critique concerning the visual and conceptual processes of image comprehension.

Untitled, from the series New Work, by Jordan Tate

Jordan Tate, a 2008-2009 Fulbright Fellow, has a Bachelor of Philosophy in interdisciplinary studies from Miami University and a Master of Fine Arts in photography from Indiana University. He is an Assistant Professor of Art at the University of Cincinnati and is the founding editor of the contemporary art blog ilikethisart.net.

"Auto racing, bull fighting and mountain climbing are the only real sports... All others are games," Ernest Hemingway once rather controversially claimed. While Hemingway might not have been the absolute authority on the subject of sports, he undoubtedly gave new definition to the hard-living, macho-man image that's been so embedded in American culture. As if to prove Hemingway's point on auto racing, silver screen icons such as Steve McQueen and Paul Newman had a deep love for the sport, both having pursued a career as professional drivers. Somewhere between the smell of gasoline and rubber, the noise of hard-revving engines and unrestricted exhaust and the thought of being seriously hurt at high speeds, men (at least some of them) seem to find simple joy. In Contender Daniel Handal's project Rough Stock, he makes the link between machismo and racecars with his camera.

Yellow No. 68, Broome-Tioga, Richford, 2010 by Daniel Handal

In his statement, Handal writes:

In my project Rough Stock, I continue my exploration of American men displaying physical prowess, strength and courage—personality traits that our culture values as implicitly male. I have worked in several different subcultures (boxing, wrestling and hunting). Rough Stock is set in the world of motor sports: vintage cars, demo derby, motorcycles and snowmobiles. I am interested in the unusual, super-human quality that racecar drivers and daredevils possess. Man and machine become one in an alliance that gives my subject the odd quality I seek out in my work. While each image can be seen as its own individual portrait, as a group they portray a modern-day rodeo, where the car has replaced the horse and bull, and the drivers are the new cowboy. [Racecars] are iconic symbols of strength and struggle. Rough Stock captures the role of male heroes—the winning and the losing, the failed attempts and the successes—the bright shiny vintage sports car and the quirky banged up demolished car at the derby.

Burnout (Perfectly Strange), Auto Club Raceway, Fontana, 2011 by Daniel Handal

Daniel Handal was born in Honduras and immigrated to the United States for education. He received his BS in applied sciences from Rutgers University and studied photography at the International Center of Photography. Handal has been awarded with residencies at the Constance Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts and the Center for Photography at Woodstock. He currently lives and works in New York City.

Hood (Cherry & Mint), Auto Club Raceway, Fontana, 2011 by Daniel Handal

Hot on the heels of the closing of HHS! First Edition 2012, we found ourselves in the grand portfolio review room at the FotoFest Meeting Place, where our exposure to the latest photographic works continued (we also ran into quite a few HHS! photographers). A big trend we've been seeing: projects that focus on memories and traces of a diseased person. From immediate family members to distant relatives to complete strangers, photographers around the world have explored what it means to live without someone through and through. Contender Domenica de la Torre's appropriately named series, Closure, deals with the same circumstances but with a twist: De la Torre's brother disappeared.

The serenate of the little bird, 2011 by Domenica de la Torre

Though not mentioned in de la Torre's statement, one can't help but wonder about any correlation between her brother's disappearance and the turmoil in Mexico that is the Mexican drug war. Related incident or not, what de la Torre is going through must be something a lot of families can relate to in a country that has seen too much violence in recent years. In her statement for Closure, de la Torre writes:

This project is an attempt [to find] a symbolic closure for the loss of my brother. After his disappearance in Mexico, my family and I felt the necessity to find a place far from the adverse situation. Hence, our house eventually became inhabited [by] mourning, and this is where I began a constant search for comfort. The images serve as an investigation of a psychological state in which I come to the realization of the nonexistent closure. A study of the attempt to eliminate memories that disrupt the conscience or balance of the nervous system. A battle against my own memories, the memories of having looked for him as if he was a dead dog on the banks of the shrub lands.

The path in which oblivion lies, 2010 by Domenica de la Torre

Domenica de la Torre was born and raised in southern Mexico, where the sense of light and color has influenced her photographic work. She came to the United States to begin her professional studies in photography. She is currently pursuing a BA in photography in Columbia College Chicago after attending school at the Studio Art Centers International of Florence, Italy, on a scholarship.

Recess, 2009 by Patrick Allen

In his statement, he explains:

Aerial photography is similar to photographing out of a moving car, with a constant stream of imagery rushing by and attempting to capture a fleeting landscape. Beyond the spontaneous images that come from the movement of being in the air is the feeling of an explorer in a world that only machines and birds usually see. Even though anyone can now have this viewpoint from a satellite, I have a desire to show more [than] a map of the land but a feeling of the differences and similarities between the world's natural patterns and the patterns we make.

Untitled, by Patrick Allen

Pollock's Red Raft, 2006 by Patrick Allen

Patrick Allen is a Brooklyn-based photographer with BAs in art history and philosophy from St. Mary's College of Maryland. Originally from Westminster, Maryland, he has exhibited work at the Gallery Gabrichidze in Brussels, Belgium, and he assisted photographers throughout D.C. and NYC. Patrick currently manages Ken Allen Studios, a custom fine art printing studio in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He works one-on-one with photographers and artists to produce pigment ink prints, while keeping up with the latest developments in photography and digital printing. He is enjoying being on the ground and photographing New York City at street level while planning future aerial photography series. View more of his work on Tumblr.

Untitled, by Patrick Allen