Pictures of the Day: Bangladesh and Elsewhere

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Photos from Bangladesh, Syria, the West Bank and New York.

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The Dude Abides on the Other Side of the Lens

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We highly recommend viewing the slideshow in full-screen mode.

Some photographers are drawn to dramatic events in exotic lands. Others are compelled to stay closer to home and burrow into the stories they know best.

The actor Jeff Bridges gets to do both. He photographs the world he grew up in, movie sets â€" each one a world never seen before. And he earns a little more than your average photographer while doing it.

Since 1984, Mr. Bridges has documented the sets of most of his movies, compiling a large collection of wide images that give an intimate, behind-the-scenes look at movie making.

“My photography is mainly focused on my work making movies, which I’ve done my whole life,” he said in a phone interview. “I think I have a perspective that not many people have. And I get to take advantage of all of the strange sources of light on a set.”

Though Mr. Bridges is better known for his acting roles â€" The Dude in “The Big Lebowski,” Rooster Cogburn in “True Grit,” Kevin Flynn in the Tron movies â€" he will receive special recognition tomorrow at the International Center of Photography’s Infinity Awards dinner in New York.

This is not the first time Mr. Bridges has been honored: he has been nominated for six Academy Awards and received an Oscar for Best Actor for his performance as Otis Blake in the 2009 film “Crazy Heart.” But he says it is “wonderful to be recognized by people who love photography.”

Mr. Bridges uses a Widelux camera for almost all of his photos because he says its ultrawide images are close to how the human eye really sees. It’s a quirky camera that allows photographers to emphasize both foreground and background. In the introduction to his book “Pictures,” published in 2003, Mr. Bridges wrote about his favorite camera:

The Widelux is a fickle mistress; its viewfinder isn’t accurate, and there’s no manual focus, so it has an arbitrariness to it, a capricious quality. I like that. It’s something I aspire to in all my work â€" a lack of preciousness that makes things more human and honest, a willingness to receive what’s there in the moment and to let go of the result. Getting out of the way seems to be one of the main tasks for me as an artist.

The Widelux has a lens mounted on a moving turret. As the lens moves, a slit shutter sweeps across a wide plane of film, creating a sometimes blurry cinematic effect. It can take two and a half seconds for a normal exposure (at one-fifteenth of a second). This gives the photographer less control of the result, because when one starts taking a picture, it is hard to know exactly what will happen two seconds in the future on the far side of the frame.

“I look at the camera as sort of a missing link between motion picture photography and still photography,” Mr. Bridges said.

Jeff Bridges Top, Maggie Gyllenhaal: “Tragoedia/Comoedia,” on the set of “Crazy Heart.” Bottom, Matt Damon: “Tragoedia/Comoedia,” on the set of “True Grit.”

Photography is different from movie making because it is more of a solitary endeavor, even when one is photographing a lot of people. But in both disciplines, the product doesn’t always turn out as expected.

“You show up, you practice, you have as much technique that you can bring, and then the reality has much to give to the experience,” Mr. Bridges said. “That’s what makes it such a joy to look at the contact sheets. You see what you thought you had and you did, and what you didn’t think you had and you got, and that’s very similar to making movies.”

Mr. Bridges has acted professionally since he was a young child, when he appeared with his father, Lloyd Bridges, star of the television series “Sea Hunt,” on that show. While attending high school in Los Angeles in the late 1960s, he built a home darkroom in a bathroom and fell in love with black-and-white printing. As his acting career took off, he left photography behind â€" until he appeared in the 1976 remake of “King Kong,” in which he played an paleontologist who always carried a camera. That rekindled his interest, and after his wife bought him a Widelux, he brought it to the set of “Starman” in 1984.

His co-star Karen Allen suggested they make a book of photos for the cast, and for almost every film he has been in since then, Mr. Bridges has made a special, limited-edition book for the cast and crew.

His purchasable collection, “Pictures,” was published by PowerHouse Books, and he donates the proceeds â€" including from sales of individual prints â€" to the Motion Picture and Television Fund and several organizations that fight hunger in the United States.

At times, his photographs form a visually refined family album that includes his father; his brother, the actor Beau Bridges; and his fellow actors. They provide a behind-the-scenes view of movie making and sometimes resemble early silent slapstick shorts more than they do art.

Mr. Bridges revels in using the Widelux’s long exposure time to take in-camera photos of his acting friends (Slide 12 and above) making comedic and tragic faces. During a single exposure, they run from one end of the frame to the other and pose goofily for the camera.

He wants to publish a book of his newer images and intends to continue photographing the sets of his movies.

So, Mr. Bridges will abide. You can take comfort in that.

Jeff Bridges Sam Elliott and Jeff Bridges: “The Stranger” and “The Dude” on the set of “The Big Lebowski.”

Follow @TheJeffBridges, @ICPhotog, @JamesEstrin and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

The Dude Abides on the Other Side of the Lens

In order to view this feature, you must download the latest version of flash player here.

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We highly recommend viewing the slideshow in full-screen mode.

Some photographers are drawn to dramatic events in exotic lands. Others are compelled to stay closer to home and burrow into the stories they know best.

The actor Jeff Bridges gets to do both. He photographs the world he grew up in, movie sets â€" each one a world never seen before. And he earns a little more than your average photographer while doing it.

Since 1984, Mr. Bridges has documented the sets of most of his movies, compiling a large collection of wide images that give an intimate, behind-the-scenes look at movie making.

“My photography is mainly focused on my work making movies, which I’ve done my whole life,” he said in a phone interview. “I think I have a perspective that not many people have. And I get to take advantage of all of the strange sources of light on a set.”

Though Mr. Bridges is better known for his acting roles â€" The Dude in “The Big Lebowski,” Rooster Cogburn in “True Grit,” Kevin Flynn in the Tron movies â€" he will receive special recognition tomorrow at the International Center of Photography’s Infinity Awards dinner in New York.

This is not the first time Mr. Bridges has been honored: he has been nominated for six Academy Awards and received an Oscar for Best Actor for his performance as Otis Blake in the 2009 film “Crazy Heart.” But he says it is “wonderful to be recognized by people who love photography.”

Mr. Bridges uses a Widelux camera for almost all of his photos because he says its ultrawide images are close to how the human eye really sees. It’s a quirky camera that allows photographers to emphasize both foreground and background. In the introduction to his book “Pictures,” published in 2003, Mr. Bridges wrote about his favorite camera:

The Widelux is a fickle mistress; its viewfinder isn’t accurate, and there’s no manual focus, so it has an arbitrariness to it, a capricious quality. I like that. It’s something I aspire to in all my work â€" a lack of preciousness that makes things more human and honest, a willingness to receive what’s there in the moment and to let go of the result. Getting out of the way seems to be one of the main tasks for me as an artist.

The Widelux has a lens mounted on a moving turret. As the lens moves, a slit shutter sweeps across a wide plane of film, creating a sometimes blurry cinematic effect. It can take two and a half seconds for a normal exposure (at one-fifteenth of a second). This gives the photographer less control of the result, because when one starts taking a picture, it is hard to know exactly what will happen two seconds in the future on the far side of the frame.

“I look at the camera as sort of a missing link between motion picture photography and still photography,” Mr. Bridges said.

Jeff Bridges Top, Maggie Gyllenhaal: “Tragoedia/Comoedia,” on the set of “Crazy Heart.” Bottom, Matt Damon: “Tragoedia/Comoedia,” on the set of “True Grit.”

Photography is different from movie making because it is more of a solitary endeavor, even when one is photographing a lot of people. But in both disciplines, the product doesn’t always turn out as expected.

“You show up, you practice, you have as much technique that you can bring, and then the reality has much to give to the experience,” Mr. Bridges said. “That’s what makes it such a joy to look at the contact sheets. You see what you thought you had and you did, and what you didn’t think you had and you got, and that’s very similar to making movies.”

Mr. Bridges has acted professionally since he was a young child, when he appeared with his father, Lloyd Bridges, star of the television series “Sea Hunt,” on that show. While attending high school in Los Angeles in the late 1960s, he built a home darkroom in a bathroom and fell in love with black-and-white printing. As his acting career took off, he left photography behind â€" until he appeared in the 1976 remake of “King Kong,” in which he played an paleontologist who always carried a camera. That rekindled his interest, and after his wife bought him a Widelux, he brought it to the set of “Starman” in 1984.

His co-star Karen Allen suggested they make a book of photos for the cast, and for almost every film he has been in since then, Mr. Bridges has made a special, limited-edition book for the cast and crew.

His purchasable collection, “Pictures,” was published by PowerHouse Books, and he donates the proceeds â€" including from sales of individual prints â€" to the Motion Picture and Television Fund and several organizations that fight hunger in the United States.

At times, his photographs form a visually refined family album that includes his father; his brother, the actor Beau Bridges; and his fellow actors. They provide a behind-the-scenes view of movie making and sometimes resemble early silent slapstick shorts more than they do art.

Mr. Bridges revels in using the Widelux’s long exposure time to take in-camera photos of his acting friends (Slide 12 and above) making comedic and tragic faces. During a single exposure, they run from one end of the frame to the other and pose goofily for the camera.

He wants to publish a book of his newer images and intends to continue photographing the sets of his movies.

So, Mr. Bridges will abide. You can take comfort in that.

Jeff Bridges Sam Elliott and Jeff Bridges: “The Stranger” and “The Dude” on the set of “The Big Lebowski.”

Follow @TheJeffBridges, @ICPhotog, @JamesEstrin and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

Pictures of the Day: Bangladesh and Elsewhere

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Photos from Bangladesh, the Czech Republic, Syria and Gaza City.

Follow Lens on Facebook and Twitter.

Livin’ La Vida Rio

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David Alan Harvey’s “Based on a True Story” is an unusual mix of classic documentary images of Rio de Janeiro and casual shots of Mr. Harvey’s personal experiences there, including photographs of his “muses” â€" several Brazilian women who assisted him.

The photographs of favelas, the drug trade and the rich and the powerful are strong, but Brazil has been documented in great depth by many before, including by Mr. Harvey himself for National Geographic. Yet this might be the first time his thoughts and experiences have been so nakedly revealed and shared.

Mr. Harvey, who is hardly shy or particularly private, wanted to create something more than just a photojournalism book.

David Alan Harvey/Magnum Photos

“I just took it one step further by actually putting in a little novella on top of the documentary photography,” said Mr. Harvey, a member of Magnum who has been shooting for more than four decades. “The straight story is in National Geographic, of course, and I’ve done very straight stories on Rio and on Brazil before. But this one was an attempt to experiment and have a little fun, playing around with juxtapositions and making the story a bit of a mystery.”

It’s one that readers have to figure out, since the book was designed to be taken apart and re-edited into different narratives.

And he’ll have a chance to see if it stumps his subjects, since he is in Rio this week sharing his work and talents with the residents of some of the poor neighborhoods where he photographed. On Saturday he gave a talk and distributed free copies at a youth soccer game. He is scheduled to distribute free books in five other favelas and hold a free photo workshop for teenagers in an effort he describes as “a payback and pay forward gesture to the Rio community.”

David Alan Harvey/Magnum PhotosGiving away “Based on a True Story” at a youth soccer game in a favela named Cantagalo in Rio de Janeiro.

The 2,500 copies he is giving away in Rio are printed in a magazine format. The original version of “Based on a True Story” was a handsome, handmade limited-edition boxed volume that encouraged the reader to re-edit it in different ways. It was published last fall by Burn, Mr. Harvey’s online magazine which has employed innovative approaches to publishing photographic work on the Web and, more recently, in books.

“Based on a True Story” was named last year’s Best Photography Book in the 2013 POYi competition. Although the 600 signed limited editions originally sold for $95 â€" and now fetch as much as $500 â€" Mr. Harvey planned from the beginning to publish a free version to distribute in Rio de Janeiro. An additional 2,500 copies of the magazine-like book will be sold on Burn for $24 each.

Mr. Harvey says photojournalists have to make things as discernible as possible as fast as possible. But with “Based on a True Story,” he wanted to see what would happen if viewers had to sort out the story on their own. The book is bursting with sex, danger, passion and sensuality. It will be interesting to find out how his Brazilian audience reacts to his blend of fact and fiction.

His first event, a lecture and free book signing at the photography school Ateliê da Imagem, went well and was “a big warm” according to Mr. Harvey. A spontaneous giveaway at a youth soccer match resulted in some children spreading the book out on the ground to look at it, while others held the books close to them and a few set theirs down on nearby steps. Several more events are planned for the next week.

The book is a result of what he calls his quarter-century “love affair” with the migration of the Spanish and Portuguese cultures to the Americas. It is also the product of a lifelong dedication to living fully, deeply and sensually. Though not wholly factual, it rings true for Mr. Harvey and his many followers.

“The reason that I called it ‘Based on a True Story’ â€" and the word ‘Rio’ never appears anywhere in the book â€" is because I didn’t want even to give the impression that I was trying to make a pure photojournalistic documentary,” he said. “I didn’t want to confuse anybody, so the word Rio is not even in there. At all. At any point.”

David Alan Harvey/Magnum Photos

Follow @davidalanharvey, @JamesEstrin and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

Livin’ La Vida Rio

In order to view this feature, you must download the latest version of flash player here.

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David Alan Harvey’s “Based on a True Story” is an unusual mix of classic documentary images of Rio de Janeiro and casual shots of Mr. Harvey’s personal experiences there, including photographs of his “muses” â€" several Brazilian women who assisted him.

The photographs of favelas, the drug trade and the rich and the powerful are strong, but Brazil has been documented in great depth by many before, including by Mr. Harvey himself for National Geographic. Yet this might be the first time his thoughts and experiences have been so nakedly revealed and shared.

Mr. Harvey, who is hardly shy or particularly private, wanted to create something more than just a photojournalism book.

David Alan Harvey/Magnum Photos

“I just took it one step further by actually putting in a little novella on top of the documentary photography,” said Mr. Harvey, a member of Magnum who has been shooting for more than four decades. “The straight story is in National Geographic, of course, and I’ve done very straight stories on Rio and on Brazil before. But this one was an attempt to experiment and have a little fun, playing around with juxtapositions and making the story a bit of a mystery.”

It’s one that readers have to figure out, since the book was designed to be taken apart and re-edited into different narratives.

And he’ll have a chance to see if it stumps his subjects, since he is in Rio this week sharing his work and talents with the residents of some of the poor neighborhoods where he photographed. On Saturday he gave a talk and distributed free copies at a youth soccer game. He is scheduled to distribute free books in five other favelas and hold a free photo workshop for teenagers in an effort he describes as “a payback and pay forward gesture to the Rio community.”

David Alan Harvey/Magnum PhotosGiving away “Based on a True Story” at a youth soccer game in a favela named Cantagalo in Rio de Janeiro.

The 2,500 copies he is giving away in Rio are printed in a magazine format. The original version of “Based on a True Story” was a handsome, handmade limited-edition boxed volume that encouraged the reader to re-edit it in different ways. It was published last fall by Burn, Mr. Harvey’s online magazine which has employed innovative approaches to publishing photographic work on the Web and, more recently, in books.

“Based on a True Story” was named last year’s Best Photography Book in the 2013 POYi competition. Although the 600 signed limited editions originally sold for $95 â€" and now fetch as much as $500 â€" Mr. Harvey planned from the beginning to publish a free version to distribute in Rio de Janeiro. An additional 2,500 copies of the magazine-like book will be sold on Burn for $24 each.

Mr. Harvey says photojournalists have to make things as discernible as possible as fast as possible. But with “Based on a True Story,” he wanted to see what would happen if viewers had to sort out the story on their own. The book is bursting with sex, danger, passion and sensuality. It will be interesting to find out how his Brazilian audience reacts to his blend of fact and fiction.

His first event, a lecture and free book signing at the photography school Ateliê da Imagem, went well and was “a big warm” according to Mr. Harvey. A spontaneous giveaway at a youth soccer match resulted in some children spreading the book out on the ground to look at it, while others held the books close to them and a few set theirs down on nearby steps. Several more events are planned for the next week.

The book is a result of what he calls his quarter-century “love affair” with the migration of the Spanish and Portuguese cultures to the Americas. It is also the product of a lifelong dedication to living fully, deeply and sensually. Though not wholly factual, it rings true for Mr. Harvey and his many followers.

“The reason that I called it ‘Based on a True Story’ â€" and the word ‘Rio’ never appears anywhere in the book â€" is because I didn’t want even to give the impression that I was trying to make a pure photojournalistic documentary,” he said. “I didn’t want to confuse anybody, so the word Rio is not even in there. At all. At any point.”

David Alan Harvey/Magnum Photos

Follow @davidalanharvey, @JamesEstrin and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

Livin’ La Vida Rio

In order to view this feature, you must download the latest version of flash player here.

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David Alan Harvey’s “Based on a True Story” is an unusual mix of classic documentary images of Rio de Janeiro and casual shots of Mr. Harvey’s personal experiences there, including photographs of his “muses” â€" several Brazilian women who assisted him.

The photographs of favelas, the drug trade and the rich and the powerful are strong, but Brazil has been documented in great depth by many before, including by Mr. Harvey himself for National Geographic. Yet this might be the first time his thoughts and experiences have been so nakedly revealed and shared.

Mr. Harvey, who is hardly shy or particularly private, wanted to create something more than just a photojournalism book.

David Alan Harvey/Magnum Photos

“I just took it one step further by actually putting in a little novella on top of the documentary photography,” said Mr. Harvey, a member of Magnum who has been shooting for more than four decades. “The straight story is in National Geographic, of course, and I’ve done very straight stories on Rio and on Brazil before. But this one was an attempt to experiment and have a little fun, playing around with juxtapositions and making the story a bit of a mystery.”

It’s one that readers have to figure out, since the book was designed to be taken apart and re-edited into different narratives.

And he’ll have a chance to see if it stumps his subjects, since he is in Rio this week sharing his work and talents with the residents of some of the poor neighborhoods where he photographed. On Saturday he gave a talk and distributed free copies at a youth soccer game. He is scheduled to distribute free books in five other favelas and hold a free photo workshop for teenagers in an effort he describes as “a payback and pay forward gesture to the Rio community.”

David Alan Harvey/Magnum PhotosGiving away “Based on a True Story” at a youth soccer game in a favela named Cantagalo in Rio de Janeiro.

The 2,500 copies he is giving away in Rio are printed in a magazine format. The original version of “Based on a True Story” was a handsome, handmade limited-edition boxed volume that encouraged the reader to re-edit it in different ways. It was published last fall by Burn, Mr. Harvey’s online magazine which has employed innovative approaches to publishing photographic work on the Web and, more recently, in books.

“Based on a True Story” was named last year’s Best Photography Book in the 2013 POYi competition. Although the 600 signed limited editions originally sold for $95 â€" and now fetch as much as $500 â€" Mr. Harvey planned from the beginning to publish a free version to distribute in Rio de Janeiro. An additional 2,500 copies of the magazine-like book will be sold on Burn for $24 each.

Mr. Harvey says photojournalists have to make things as discernible as possible as fast as possible. But with “Based on a True Story,” he wanted to see what would happen if viewers had to sort out the story on their own. The book is bursting with sex, danger, passion and sensuality. It will be interesting to find out how his Brazilian audience reacts to his blend of fact and fiction.

His first event, a lecture and free book signing at the photography school Ateliê da Imagem, went well and was “a big warm” according to Mr. Harvey. A spontaneous giveaway at a youth soccer match resulted in some children spreading the book out on the ground to look at it, while others held the books close to them and a few set theirs down on nearby steps. Several more events are planned for the next week.

The book is a result of what he calls his quarter-century “love affair” with the migration of the Spanish and Portuguese cultures to the Americas. It is also the product of a lifelong dedication to living fully, deeply and sensually. Though not wholly factual, it rings true for Mr. Harvey and his many followers.

“The reason that I called it ‘Based on a True Story’ â€" and the word ‘Rio’ never appears anywhere in the book â€" is because I didn’t want even to give the impression that I was trying to make a pure photojournalistic documentary,” he said. “I didn’t want to confuse anybody, so the word Rio is not even in there. At all. At any point.”

David Alan Harvey/Magnum Photos

Follow @davidalanharvey, @JamesEstrin and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

Pictures of the Day: Bangladesh and Elsewhere

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Photos from Bangladesh, Kashmir, Iraq and China.

Follow Lens on Facebook and Twitter.

Mexico Points the Camera at Itself

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Americans tend to see Mexico narrowly, either as a playground of getaway beaches, tequila and tacos or as a source of drugs, crime and immigrants. But how do Mexicans see themselves?

A new book, “Mexican Portraits,” co-published by Aperture and Fundación Televisa and edited by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio and Vesta Mónica Herrerías, tackles that question by stepping back and exploring the faces and masks of a country that has often resisted lingering before the mirror. It’s no secret that Mexico is an incredibly visual place that draws in many from faraway lands. But it is also a country of solitude and reserve, where questions often lead to averted eyes and where many prefer to hold tight to their secrets. This is especially true now, as crime and government impotence have made it even harder for Mexicans to open up to outsiders.

José Bustamante, courtesy of Alfonso Morales Photographic studio “El Gran Lente,” Mexico City, circa 1950.

Which is why this boulder of a book matters. Spanning nearly the entire history of photography in Mexico, it manages to be expansive without being boring or compulsively encyclopedic. It offers a window â€" or hundreds of windows, with each image â€" into the mindset of Mexico, rich and poor, rural and urban. And unlike many projects of its kind, “Mexican Portraits” began not with the past, but with the present.

“We started by looking at what contemporary visual artists were doing with portraiture,” said Mr. Monasterio, a slight, bearded, illuminating man who has edited more than 100 books of photography. “It was an investigation: Who are we, and how did we become the way we are?”

The text of the book starts with a simple but telling declaration â€" “The essence of a portrait has more to do with enigma than with certainty” â€" and this conflict between seeing and not seeing emerges gradually throughout. There are some classic photographs in here that will be instantly recognizable to students of Latin American photography, like Salvador Toscano’s portrait of Pancho Villa (below) and the Casasola agency’s work from the 1920s. But the interplay between those images and more modern work â€" “this reality of different times that coexist” â€" is what Mr. Monasterio sought to emphasize.

Salvador Toscano, courtesy of Filmoteca de la UNAM/Archivo Salvador Toscano General Francisco Villa, Tacuba, Mexico City, 1914.

The cover image, for example, is a work by Gabriel de la Mora in which he peels the paper off a traditional portrait from 1897 so that the face is no longer visible. It still manages to be a portrait â€" not a single shred of paper has been removed â€" but it is one that represents both the 19th century and the late 1960s, when de la Mora toyed with it.

Deeper into the book, there is a self-portrait by Pedro Meyer (Slide 19), showing him as a little boy standing with his father in the 1940s. It is superimposed on another, similarly staged portrait of himself in 2000, standing with his own son, who is around the same age as Mr. Meyer was in the original.

There seems to be a more subtle conversation going on between Graciela Iturbide and Carlos Somonte. Ms. Iturbide’s portraits (Slide 1) of Oaxaca are timeless, showing the strength of simple women and their dignity as they stare straight at the camera against walls and in colonial doorways. Mr. Somonte’s subjects (Slide 18) are similar in attitude â€" there are no passive victims here â€" but he goes beyond just the people by posing them in settings both modern and ancient. Each portrait shows someone holding an animal, and instead of framing them with a two-dimensional background, Mr. Somonte photographed them in the middle of the desert, with a small white screen behind them. At the time, the area was suffering from an intense drought, and in the images, the land itself dwarfs everything, making the landscape as much of a subject as the person in the foreground.

“What interested me was to place the people in the space where they live, in their habitat, to show that they are a part of that, the landscape,” Mr. Somonte said. He added that for Mexicans in particular, “I feel that the space where we are is an extension of who we are.”

What also stands out in his series is the transparency of the process. The ropes tied to rocks to hold the screen in place are visible in the images, and the relationship between the photographer, the subject and the setting is out in the open, as well. Mr. Somonte said that was partly what helped put people at ease. Many of the residents he photographed were worried at first that he had come to persecute them for keeping rare wild animals, but the studio, which some of them helped set up and fortify against the elements, made it clear that Mr. Somonte was aiming for something more personal.

“The setup was very basic, so it was possible for anyone educated or not to understand,” he said. “It showed that I wasn’t taking pictures to persecute them or get them in trouble. It was a third-world studio. When the pictures came out, they were very satisfied.”

Many of the other photographers included in “Mexican Portraits” â€" mostly Mexican, with a few foreigners who have lived and worked in the country for years â€" also seem to be interested in exploring ideas of participation. Ana Casas Broda projects various versions of her body onto her photos, taking portraits of herself in the nude, breastfeeding or playing with her children. In an interview, she said that she had often heard people describe her photos as “too strong or too real,” but that this was part of the point. “For me, it’s essential because it makes me see the complexity of motherhood, and I think it’s positive to generate intense reactions in the viewer,” she said.

Jorge Alberto Beltrán Robles, courtesy of Coleccíon Yotepongomasaltiro From the series “Your Face Rings a Bell, 2010-11.”

The idea of posing takes on a more contemporary feel in the portraits of armed bodyguards taken by Carla Verea for her series “(IN)Security: Types of Bodyguards in Latin America, 2003-8″ (Slide 8), and in the more recent shots by Jorge Alberto Beltrán Robles of Mexico City club kids (above). Both photographers, in their own way, seem to be marveling at an expanding element of their society, and it’s hard not to notice how all of their subjects are aware of the camera and attempting to define themselves before it, even as they accidentally reveal deeper truths.

Taken together, the two series reveal the paradox of Mexico today. It is a country of dizzying developments, where bodyguards, criminals and the police are often interchangeable, and where a youthful middle class â€" confident, savvy, cool â€" is demanding to be noticed and respected by its government and by the world. A senior official here once said that Mexico should be seen as adolescent growing into its own. The portraits in this book seem to capture how the country has ended up at a time of transition, with the influence of the past still very present and the future still undefined.

“We as a culture have certain specificities, and photography reflects that,” Mr. Monasterio said. “We Mexicans tend to be very contemporary, and we always want to be more so, but we also carry this traditionalism. Young artists aren’t trying to emulate anyone, they’re just doing their own work, but there is this echo of the past that vibrates within them.”

Graciela Iturbide, courtesy of Photographic Collections, Fundación Televisa “The Goat’s Feet Seller,” from the series “Women’s Juchitán,” 1969.

Follow @damiencave and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

Mexico Points the Camera at Itself

In order to view this feature, you must download the latest version of flash player here.

#flashHeader{visibility:visible !important;}

Americans tend to see Mexico narrowly, either as a playground of getaway beaches, tequila and tacos or as a source of drugs, crime and immigrants. But how do Mexicans see themselves?

A new book, “Mexican Portraits,” co-published by Aperture and Fundación Televisa and edited by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio and Vesta Mónica Herrerías, tackles that question by stepping back and exploring the faces and masks of a country that has often resisted lingering before the mirror. It’s no secret that Mexico is an incredibly visual place that draws in many from faraway lands. But it is also a country of solitude and reserve, where questions often lead to averted eyes and where many prefer to hold tight to their secrets. This is especially true now, as crime and government impotence have made it even harder for Mexicans to open up to outsiders.

José Bustamante, courtesy of Alfonso Morales Photographic studio “El Gran Lente,” Mexico City, circa 1950.

Which is why this boulder of a book matters. Spanning nearly the entire history of photography in Mexico, it manages to be expansive without being boring or compulsively encyclopedic. It offers a window â€" or hundreds of windows, with each image â€" into the mindset of Mexico, rich and poor, rural and urban. And unlike many projects of its kind, “Mexican Portraits” began not with the past, but with the present.

“We started by looking at what contemporary visual artists were doing with portraiture,” said Mr. Monasterio, a slight, bearded, illuminating man who has edited more than 100 books of photography. “It was an investigation: Who are we, and how did we become the way we are?”

The text of the book starts with a simple but telling declaration â€" “The essence of a portrait has more to do with enigma than with certainty” â€" and this conflict between seeing and not seeing emerges gradually throughout. There are some classic photographs in here that will be instantly recognizable to students of Latin American photography, like Salvador Toscano’s portrait of Pancho Villa (below) and the Casasola agency’s work from the 1920s. But the interplay between those images and more modern work â€" “this reality of different times that coexist” â€" is what Mr. Monasterio sought to emphasize.

Salvador Toscano, courtesy of Filmoteca de la UNAM/Archivo Salvador Toscano General Francisco Villa, Tacuba, Mexico City, 1914.

The cover image, for example, is a work by Gabriel de la Mora in which he peels the paper off a traditional portrait from 1897 so that the face is no longer visible. It still manages to be a portrait â€" not a single shred of paper has been removed â€" but it is one that represents both the 19th century and the late 1960s, when de la Mora toyed with it.

Deeper into the book, there is a self-portrait by Pedro Meyer (Slide 19), showing him as a little boy standing with his father in the 1940s. It is superimposed on another, similarly staged portrait of himself in 2000, standing with his own son, who is around the same age as Mr. Meyer was in the original.

There seems to be a more subtle conversation going on between Graciela Iturbide and Carlos Somonte. Ms. Iturbide’s portraits (Slide 1) of Oaxaca are timeless, showing the strength of simple women and their dignity as they stare straight at the camera against walls and in colonial doorways. Mr. Somonte’s subjects (Slide 18) are similar in attitude â€" there are no passive victims here â€" but he goes beyond just the people by posing them in settings both modern and ancient. Each portrait shows someone holding an animal, and instead of framing them with a two-dimensional background, Mr. Somonte photographed them in the middle of the desert, with a small white screen behind them. At the time, the area was suffering from an intense drought, and in the images, the land itself dwarfs everything, making the landscape as much of a subject as the person in the foreground.

“What interested me was to place the people in the space where they live, in their habitat, to show that they are a part of that, the landscape,” Mr. Somonte said. He added that for Mexicans in particular, “I feel that the space where we are is an extension of who we are.”

What also stands out in his series is the transparency of the process. The ropes tied to rocks to hold the screen in place are visible in the images, and the relationship between the photographer, the subject and the setting is out in the open, as well. Mr. Somonte said that was partly what helped put people at ease. Many of the residents he photographed were worried at first that he had come to persecute them for keeping rare wild animals, but the studio, which some of them helped set up and fortify against the elements, made it clear that Mr. Somonte was aiming for something more personal.

“The setup was very basic, so it was possible for anyone educated or not to understand,” he said. “It showed that I wasn’t taking pictures to persecute them or get them in trouble. It was a third-world studio. When the pictures came out, they were very satisfied.”

Many of the other photographers included in “Mexican Portraits” â€" mostly Mexican, with a few foreigners who have lived and worked in the country for years â€" also seem to be interested in exploring ideas of participation. Ana Casas Broda projects various versions of her body onto her photos, taking portraits of herself in the nude, breastfeeding or playing with her children. In an interview, she said that she had often heard people describe her photos as “too strong or too real,” but that this was part of the point. “For me, it’s essential because it makes me see the complexity of motherhood, and I think it’s positive to generate intense reactions in the viewer,” she said.

Jorge Alberto Beltrán Robles, courtesy of Coleccíon Yotepongomasaltiro From the series “Your Face Rings a Bell, 2010-11.”

The idea of posing takes on a more contemporary feel in the portraits of armed bodyguards taken by Carla Verea for her series “(IN)Security: Types of Bodyguards in Latin America, 2003-8″ (Slide 8), and in the more recent shots by Jorge Alberto Beltrán Robles of Mexico City club kids (above). Both photographers, in their own way, seem to be marveling at an expanding element of their society, and it’s hard not to notice how all of their subjects are aware of the camera and attempting to define themselves before it, even as they accidentally reveal deeper truths.

Taken together, the two series reveal the paradox of Mexico today. It is a country of dizzying developments, where bodyguards, criminals and the police are often interchangeable, and where a youthful middle class â€" confident, savvy, cool â€" is demanding to be noticed and respected by its government and by the world. A senior official here once said that Mexico should be seen as adolescent growing into its own. The portraits in this book seem to capture how the country has ended up at a time of transition, with the influence of the past still very present and the future still undefined.

“We as a culture have certain specificities, and photography reflects that,” Mr. Monasterio said. “We Mexicans tend to be very contemporary, and we always want to be more so, but we also carry this traditionalism. Young artists aren’t trying to emulate anyone, they’re just doing their own work, but there is this echo of the past that vibrates within them.”

Graciela Iturbide, courtesy of Photographic Collections, Fundación Televisa “The Goat’s Feet Seller,” from the series “Women’s Juchitán,” 1969.

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Mexico Points the Camera at Itself

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Americans tend to see Mexico narrowly, either as a playground of getaway beaches, tequila and tacos or as a source of drugs, crime and immigrants. But how do Mexicans see themselves?

A new book, “Mexican Portraits,” co-published by Aperture and Fundación Televisa and edited by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio and Vesta Mónica Herrerías, tackles that question by stepping back and exploring the faces and masks of a country that has often resisted lingering before the mirror. It’s no secret that Mexico is an incredibly visual place that draws in many from faraway lands. But it is also a country of solitude and reserve, where questions often lead to averted eyes and where many prefer to hold tight to their secrets. This is especially true now, as crime and government impotence have made it even harder for Mexicans to open up to outsiders.

José Bustamante, courtesy of Alfonso Morales Photographic studio “El Gran Lente,” Mexico City, circa 1950.

Which is why this boulder of a book matters. Spanning nearly the entire history of photography in Mexico, it manages to be expansive without being boring or compulsively encyclopedic. It offers a window â€" or hundreds of windows, with each image â€" into the mindset of Mexico, rich and poor, rural and urban. And unlike many projects of its kind, “Mexican Portraits” began not with the past, but with the present.

“We started by looking at what contemporary visual artists were doing with portraiture,” said Mr. Monasterio, a slight, bearded, illuminating man who has edited more than 100 books of photography. “It was an investigation: Who are we, and how did we become the way we are?”

The text of the book starts with a simple but telling declaration â€" “The essence of a portrait has more to do with enigma than with certainty” â€" and this conflict between seeing and not seeing emerges gradually throughout. There are some classic photographs in here that will be instantly recognizable to students of Latin American photography, like Salvador Toscano’s portrait of Pancho Villa (below) and the Casasola agency’s work from the 1920s. But the interplay between those images and more modern work â€" “this reality of different times that coexist” â€" is what Mr. Monasterio sought to emphasize.

Salvador Toscano, courtesy of Filmoteca de la UNAM/Archivo Salvador Toscano General Francisco Villa, Tacuba, Mexico City, 1914.

The cover image, for example, is a work by Gabriel de la Mora in which he peels the paper off a traditional portrait from 1897 so that the face is no longer visible. It still manages to be a portrait â€" not a single shred of paper has been removed â€" but it is one that represents both the 19th century and the late 1960s, when de la Mora toyed with it.

Deeper into the book, there is a self-portrait by Pedro Meyer (Slide 19), showing him as a little boy standing with his father in the 1940s. It is superimposed on another, similarly staged portrait of himself in 2000, standing with his own son, who is around the same age as Mr. Meyer was in the original.

There seems to be a more subtle conversation going on between Graciela Iturbide and Carlos Somonte. Ms. Iturbide’s portraits (Slide 1) of Oaxaca are timeless, showing the strength of simple women and their dignity as they stare straight at the camera against walls and in colonial doorways. Mr. Somonte’s subjects (Slide 18) are similar in attitude â€" there are no passive victims here â€" but he goes beyond just the people by posing them in settings both modern and ancient. Each portrait shows someone holding an animal, and instead of framing them with a two-dimensional background, Mr. Somonte photographed them in the middle of the desert, with a small white screen behind them. At the time, the area was suffering from an intense drought, and in the images, the land itself dwarfs everything, making the landscape as much of a subject as the person in the foreground.

“What interested me was to place the people in the space where they live, in their habitat, to show that they are a part of that, the landscape,” Mr. Somonte said. He added that for Mexicans in particular, “I feel that the space where we are is an extension of who we are.”

What also stands out in his series is the transparency of the process. The ropes tied to rocks to hold the screen in place are visible in the images, and the relationship between the photographer, the subject and the setting is out in the open, as well. Mr. Somonte said that was partly what helped put people at ease. Many of the residents he photographed were worried at first that he had come to persecute them for keeping rare wild animals, but the studio, which some of them helped set up and fortify against the elements, made it clear that Mr. Somonte was aiming for something more personal.

“The setup was very basic, so it was possible for anyone educated or not to understand,” he said. “It showed that I wasn’t taking pictures to persecute them or get them in trouble. It was a third-world studio. When the pictures came out, they were very satisfied.”

Many of the other photographers included in “Mexican Portraits” â€" mostly Mexican, with a few foreigners who have lived and worked in the country for years â€" also seem to be interested in exploring ideas of participation. Ana Casas Broda projects various versions of her body onto her photos, taking portraits of herself in the nude, breastfeeding or playing with her children. In an interview, she said that she had often heard people describe her photos as “too strong or too real,” but that this was part of the point. “For me, it’s essential because it makes me see the complexity of motherhood, and I think it’s positive to generate intense reactions in the viewer,” she said.

Jorge Alberto Beltrán Robles, courtesy of Coleccíon Yotepongomasaltiro From the series “Your Face Rings a Bell, 2010-11.”

The idea of posing takes on a more contemporary feel in the portraits of armed bodyguards taken by Carla Verea for her series “(IN)Security: Types of Bodyguards in Latin America, 2003-8″ (Slide 8), and in the more recent shots by Jorge Alberto Beltrán Robles of Mexico City club kids (above). Both photographers, in their own way, seem to be marveling at an expanding element of their society, and it’s hard not to notice how all of their subjects are aware of the camera and attempting to define themselves before it, even as they accidentally reveal deeper truths.

Taken together, the two series reveal the paradox of Mexico today. It is a country of dizzying developments, where bodyguards, criminals and the police are often interchangeable, and where a youthful middle class â€" confident, savvy, cool â€" is demanding to be noticed and respected by its government and by the world. A senior official here once said that Mexico should be seen as adolescent growing into its own. The portraits in this book seem to capture how the country has ended up at a time of transition, with the influence of the past still very present and the future still undefined.

“We as a culture have certain specificities, and photography reflects that,” Mr. Monasterio said. “We Mexicans tend to be very contemporary, and we always want to be more so, but we also carry this traditionalism. Young artists aren’t trying to emulate anyone, they’re just doing their own work, but there is this echo of the past that vibrates within them.”

Graciela Iturbide, courtesy of Photographic Collections, Fundación Televisa “The Goat’s Feet Seller,” from the series “Women’s Juchitán,” 1969.

Follow @damiencave and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.

Pictures of the Day: Bangladesh and Elsewhere

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Photos from Bangladesh, Syria, Texas and France.

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Caught Cold When Sochi Freezes Over

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A few hours before President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia spoke at a ceremony in the Bolshoy Ice Dome in Sochi in February, marking a year to the start of the 2014 Winter Olympics, I was watching pensioners strip to the waist and bask in the midday sunshine on a beach a few miles from the Olympic Park.

Sochi offers a delicious respite from the cold of Russia. For a Moscow resident like me, the city is a luscious feast of green, with no hint of winter on its palm-lined avenues even as snow blankets the capital.

James Hill for The New York Times At the luge track in Krasnaya Polyana, part of the Mountain Cluster for the 2014 Winter Olympic Games.

The idea of the Winter Olympics, the first Winter Games to take place in a subtropical zone, seems ambitious, as is the price tag. The combined cost of the Olympic sites and the infrastructure projects supporting them is set to make these Games history’s most expensive. Everywhere you look, something enormous is being built at a furious pace.

Leaving the Olympic Park and the Black Sea and heading up a cliff-lined valley for 30 miles brings one to the ski resorts, where the Alpine events will be staged. There was not much snowfall there this winter. Only after boarding a gondola to go up the mountain could one see the snow lying thickly on the men’s downhill course, covering its most dangerous point, a turn known, naturally enough, as Russian roulette.

James Hill for The New York Times Workers on the Bolshoy Ice Dome.

James Hill, who frequently shoots for The New York Times, is an award-winning photojournalist based in Moscow.

Follow @NYTSports and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.