{"id":1356,"date":"2025-03-10T18:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-03-10T19:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.storybooksaintbernards.com\/?p=1356"},"modified":"2025-04-03T23:05:05","modified_gmt":"2025-04-03T23:05:05","slug":"lee-shulman-reveals-the-extraordinary-in-the-ordinary-in-i-am-martin-parr","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.storybooksaintbernards.com\/index.php\/2025\/03\/10\/lee-shulman-reveals-the-extraordinary-in-the-ordinary-in-i-am-martin-parr\/","title":{"rendered":"Lee Shulman Reveals the Extraordinary in the Ordinary in \u2018I Am Martin Parr\u2019"},"content":{"rendered":"

When studying abroad in Copenhagen in college, I took a weekend trip to Stockholm, where I stumbled into a Martin Parr exhibition at the FOTOGRAFISKA Museum. I\u2019d never heard of Martin Parr before, but I was immediately taken by his vibrant, highly saturated snapshots of day-to-day mundanity that revealed the beauty in the banal. His humanistic street photography of tourists and beach-goers struck a chord, and I purchased a pocket-sized book of his work in the gift shop.<\/p>\n

In a similar fashion, years later, I stumbled upon Lee Shulman\u2019s The Anonymous Project<\/a>, in which the photographer and filmmaker collects and curates Kodachrome slides from around the world from over the last 70 years to preserve, archive, share and create new stories. As with Parr\u2019s photographs, I quickly became enamored with The Anonymous Project and the kaleidoscopic collective memory Shulman is honoring through it.<\/p>\n

\n
\n