Arthur Pollock has worked as a photojournalist for over fifty years, both freelance and on staff for several major news outlets. His professional career began in Hammond, IN and Lowell, MA in the nineteen sixties as he documented day-to-day street level stories of the time, and cut his teeth in those towns in the midst of an economic downturn and a cultural revolution. Hired on staff at the Boston Herald in the early nineteen eighties, he worked in the field for over ten years on many important features and was the recipient of numerous awards before becoming Assistant Photo Editor at the end of the decade.

This monograph is the first attempt at chronicling his enormous body of work and contains a cross-section of material from his early days on the streets, all the way up until the early nineteen nineties.

While he may echo the understatement of a news scribe, Pollock’s work clearly pays special homage to the artistry of those iconic shutter artists, Diane Arbus and the legendary New York street lensman of the 30s and 40s, Weegee. Indeed, every picture does tell a story. And in this unique collection, there are hundreds of stories… wonderfully told.

— Peter Gelzinis

Sandy Kim utilizes a highly self-referential style of photography which peers into the tiny microcosm of one woman’s life. Reminiscent of the casual documentary style popularized by Nan Goldin in the Eighties, the photographs in Sandy Kim highlight her life at one particular moment and the people who are revolving in and around it.

—Jesse Pollock

Sandy Kim is pretty short, has a ton of hair, a broken orange backpack and always loses her camera. When that happens, she just gets a disposable and keeps taking pictures. It’s this lackadaisical tenacity that translates into her photos, how they always looked kind of busted but warmly worn in and comfortable. Like many young photographers, she’s made her friends her subjects — landscapes of young women, tattoos and San Francisco fog. But she never lays a soft hand, as if anything flattering in her photos is accidental. That’s not to say her photos are purposefully unappealing or harsh, but simply that they are so often just really gross — honest portraits of much of her daily life. But Sandy’s grossness is completely malleable, sometimes funny, sometimes horrific, sometimes unbelievably lush. Sandy is such a brazen and unafraid woman and that power continually streams strongly in her photos, across all spectrums of feeling and subject. Throughout Sandy Kim, there is a lot of blood, but that blood is never the same — blood on her sheets after sex, blood from a dead body covered in a sterile white sheet, blood on the hand of a friend after an unknown accident. He’s smiling, looking straight at the camera, at Sandy. They both know it will heal.

—Matthew Schnipper