The photographer’s meteoric success is a testament to the stark reality of life on the ground in Jenin refugee camp. In this feature, Khader explains why he photographs the dead, bites back at accusations of ‘terrorism’ of his work, and discusses his upcoming debut monograph and debut solo show at Foam, exploring the role of the grieving mother in Palestine
Scottish photographer Margaret Mitchell reflects on returning to a project she started in 1994 – photographing her sister and her children in impoverished Stirling
Following the death of his grandmother, Ones To Watch winner Ali Monis Naqvi delivers a tribute to her – and to the community he was raised in
Bringing together the work of five artists, a new exhibition explores difficult topics as tools for healing and connection
After losing both grandparents in the space of a year, Nina Röder and her family were faced with the challenging task of sorting out and selling their house – and with it, the inescapable matter of letting go. Röder’s project, Wenn du gehen musst willst du doch auch bleiben, takes its name from a sage observation made by her nine-year-old nephew, Luis, while they were packing up the belongings. Roughly translated, it means: ‘When you have to leave but you still want to stay’.
The unresolvable question of how to grieve is one that follows every death. For many, the photographic act can be a way of thinking through and processing difficult times. During the two-week period before her grandparents’ house was sold, Röder photographed her family in it – sometimes posing in their clothes and with their belongings – archiving its distinct aesthetic before it disappeared forever. “I wanted to show a different way of dealing with grief and loss,” she explains. “By staging absurd scenes with my mum, cousin and brother, we found a strategy of how to say goodbye.”
