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from Photographers' Blog:

Marching to Sousa’s drum beat

Washington, D.C.

By Jonathan Ernst

One of the great things about Washington is historic Capitol Hill, where there’s a lot of life beyond the headlines and punch lines about the U.S. Congress. I like to describe it as a small town attached to the city. We know our neighbors. We walk our dogs.

Sure, our neighbors include senators and congressmen, and every once in a while at the grocery store you’ll find yourself in line behind a woman who happens to be the Secretary of Health and Human Services holding the bouquet of flowers she’s picked out, or a guy who happens to be the director of the CIA as he’s making a selection at the olive bar. But at that moment, they’re just neighbors. They probably walk their dogs too. While a security detail in a large black SUV watches from a discreet distance.

Another great thing about Washington is the Marine Band, nicknamed the President’s Own. They happen to live on Capitol Hill too, in the oldest post in the Corps, known simply as the Marine Barracks Washington -- or known even more simply to neighbors by it’s street corner: “8th and I.” If you happen to be driving near 8th and I streets on your way home from the market, it’s not uncommon to see the band’s bus loading up for an event at the White House, a concert across town, or one of their tours around the country. The Marine Band does not mess around. They look great, they sound great and they’re Marines. So when they walk their dogs around Capitol Hill, the other dogs make way.

There is no more important figure in the history of the Marine Band than John Philip Sousa – the March King. He was born to the band at 636 G Street SE on Capitol Hill in 1854. His father John Antonio Sousa was a trombonist in the President’s Own, so John Philip grew up in a house steeped in music and the military and in a town steeped in the excitement of the U.S. Civil War. Music and patriotism would define his life.

from Photographers' Blog:

‘Till the cows come home

Gruyeres, western Switzerland

By Denis Balibouse

In summer, some go to the seaside or countryside, visit a new city or country, but some choose to live a different way. The Murith family will not have a day off: they will work 15 hours a day, seven days a week from mid-May to mid-October.

I've known the Muriths for more than 10 years. Last December I called them to discuss the idea that I would photograph them over the 2013 summer. We met for lunch and over a meal I found out that Jacques, who is turning 65 (the official retirement age in Switzerland) was in the process of handing down his farm and its cheese-making business to the sixth generation: his 23-year-old son Alexandre. I was intrigued by this news, as I've been thinking a lot about agriculture in Switzerland, and how it faces a somewhat uncertain future, partly because the country is surrounded by EU nations with lower production and land costs, making it a tough way to earn a living. Despite this, exports have grown over the last 10 years and production has focused on quality.

from Photographers' Blog:

Behind the Costa Concordia timelapse

Giglio harbor, Italy

By Tony Gentile

I have always been keen on cinema and documentary video. I study and create multimedia projects and like telling stories using still photos, video and audio.

After receiving the assignment to cover the Costa Concordia "parbuckling", I had the idea to create a timelapse. Definitely not an original idea because in Giglio, there were more cameras shooting timelapses than there are island residents.

from Photographers' Blog:

Abortion: After the decision

New York City, New York

By Allison Joyce

I had been trying to think how to tell the story of abortion in photos for a while. Over the past few years the U.S. has seen new laws limiting abortions enacted and politicians speaking out for and against abortion.

Unless it's on a political level, it's still taboo in our society to discuss abortion. I was surprised when I started talking openly with my friends and colleagues about abortion how many of them had had one themselves. I hadn't known that 40 percent of American women will have an abortion during their lifetimes. While it's a personal and private experience, there are 45 million women in America who share in it, and it shouldn't be a shameful secret. The silence creates a stigma that prevents a meaningful discussion and understanding in the national debate and dialogue.

from Full Focus:

Abortion: After the decision

Abortion remains one of the most volatile political issues facing the United States, but for women who turn to it, the issue isn't a matter of politics, but one of deep and personal emotion. Reuters photographer Allison Joyce sought to explain those emotions through the voices of these women. Read Allison's personal account and view a multimedia piece here.

from Photographers' Blog:

Burning bright, loud and intense

Black Rock Desert of Nevada

By Jim Bourg

Having been to Burning Man several times now, I went to the 2013 event determined to convey in some new way to people who have never been the intensity, the size and the sometimes overwhelming sensory overload of the experience. It is truly like nothing else on earth and sometimes feels alien and otherworldly.

The size of the event, a temporary city of almost 70,000 people spanning across miles of the Nevada desert, is hard to convey in individual still photos. So is the sensory overload that 24 hour a day music, lasers, flame effects, wild costumes and the intensity of the dusty, sometimes blazingly hot in the day and at other times frigidly cold at night desert environment brings to bear. Some people who have not been before find it too much to take and leave after only a few days never to return. But for tens of thousands of others one of the regular cliches of Burning Man is that it feels like home and they feel more comfortable there than any place else. As people arrive in Black Rock City every single person gets the salutation from volunteer greeters: "Welcome Home!"

from Photographers' Blog:

Revisiting the Waldo Canyon fire

Colorado Springs, Colorado

By Rick Wilking

Covering natural disasters is a strange thing. You get there all in a huff, as fast as you can after the tragedy, and then try to seek out the major damage. You document all that, often busting hump for very long days, for a week or more depending on how bad it is.

Then inevitably the first weekend after the storm or fire comes and the story falls off the radar. Your editor sends you home to lick your wounds and wait for the next “big one.”

from Photographers' Blog:

A Hollywood timelapse

Hollywood, California

By Mario Anzuoni

The timelapse: One GoPro, one magic arm, one plate, one phone GoPro app.

http://youtu.be/juTloCw15LI

During my usual coverage of entertainment events, I come across a few that are a little bit more unique. Whether that may be the unveiling of a star on the Walk of Fame in Hollywood, a celebrity leaving hand and footprints in cement for eternity, or the world premiere of a blockbuster movie. Events such as these are hyped by the fans, attract large crowds and hundreds of members of the media and are often held in the heart of Hollywood.

My idea for this project was to give a much wider look of the whole scene before, during and after. Therefore not focusing solely on the celebrity but instead placing it into context and giving the viewer a closer idea to exactly what happens during big entertainment events such as these.

from Photographers' Blog:

Embedded with the Light Foot Militia

Priest River, Idaho

By Matt Mills McKnight

On a piece of public land near Priest River, Idaho, designated in 1911 as the Priest River Experimental Forest and used over the years by the Conservation Corps., a growing group of like-minded individuals gather to prepare for the worst and express their right to bear arms.

This wasn't the first time I met members of the Light Foot Militia, but it was the largest gathering of them I had seen in the few years I have been documenting their story. We have kept in touch, and when they contacted me about attending their third annual gathering, I jumped at the opportunity. In years past they were less enthusiastic about having me around for this event, so I was thankful for the access. We first met when I was living in Sandpoint, Idaho, a beautiful mountain lake community about 45 minutes north of Couer d’Alene, Idaho. Jeff Stankiewicz, a welding manager, started assembling a local unit shortly after President Obama was inaugurated in 2009, and it has been growing since.

from Photographers' Blog:

Tornado survivors of Moore

Moore, Oklahoma

By Lucas Jackson

Minutes, sometimes seconds, is all the time people get to shelter from a tornado. Rarely with that much time is it possible to feel safe, especially as one of the rare category EF5 storms that bore down on Moore, Oklahoma rages overhead. It is overwhelming to see what wind can do when it unleashes an unfathomable amount of energy on structures that we humans believe are solid and safe. Full sized trucks wrapped around trees, suburbans turned into an unrecognizable mass of metal void of any identifying features, and blocks of neighborhoods laid flat, down to the foundations. Seeing this almost complete destruction - for blocks and blocks - makes it hard to comprehend how anyone could live through something like this. My own difficulty in matching what I was seeing with the reality that hundreds of people had managed to survive this event led me to start recording the stories of survivors and taking portraits of where they took shelter.

I felt it was important to record these stories as they could help future tornado victims prepare a location inside of their home to better withstand a storm like this. The voices of Robert, Scott, Matt, Corey and Donna capture this experience that most of us can not even imagine and I thank everyone who was kind enough to share their memories. Almost every person I spoke with was watching the news to see where the tornado was heading as they sought shelter somewhere in their home. As the reality of the storm bearing down on them became clear and they ran for shelter in their homes, almost all of them remember hearing the phrase "If you are not underground, you will not survive this storm. You have run out of time," said by Gary England, a meteorologist for News Channel 9 in Oklahoma City as the world began to rumble around them. These are their stories.

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