What first struck me in this year's photography program, on April 27 at the Park Avenue armory was the almost total absence of traditional photojournalism. Without the flood of protest imaging or the urgency of crisis photography to which I am used to the social media of scrolling, I feared that the fair will be odorless; Relatoring archives and overviews rather than the present moment. However, while I make my way through the maze of 64 international exhibitors organized by the Association of International Photography Art Dealers (AIPAD), which rose to me the most, is the prevalence of contemporary Aboriginal artists channeling political emergency in personal explorations, spuring sincere humor alongside an unexpected human sense (and often to the gallows).
This year's fair is going through a wide familiar landscape – celebrity portraits, historic icons, photographic field gemottes – but most of them reward visitors who take the time to engage with programming and auxiliary presenters. At the rear, the Photobooks + Partners section offers a welcome counterpart to the buzz of the stands: tactile and revealing unexpectedly, this adds depth to the artists who could exceed the ground floor. Like the Executive Director of Aipad, Lydia Melamed Johnson, said to me: “One of the things we see a lot is that of the under-represented communities to turn the camera on themselves and their own communities.” This spirit crosses the Aipad Talks series, which, rather than defects with tokenism, makes real place for contemporary photographers of different demographic data to speak of their own work.
At the stand of the Stephen Bulger Gallery de Toronto, a solo -focused solo investigation traces on four decades of work by the multimedia artist Shelley Niro (Bay of Quinte Mohawk, clan of Turtle), whose practice is deeply rooted in his Kanien'Kehá in heritage: Ka (Mohawk). Niro's work moves fluidity between a clear cultural criticism and an intimate reflection, often interrupted with irreverence.
“I think that making art to make art as an indigenous woman is political,” Niro told me at the fair. “No matter what you do (or) what you put there. I could do wooden spoons paintings and people would see it as a political. ”
Three large collages of photos of her Portraits The (1991-Print) series offers a rare overview of the daily experiences of indigenous peoples. Initiated in the middle of the turbulence of resistance to Kanesatake, or the Oka crisis – a 78 -day confrontation between the Canadian government and the Mohawks land defenders on a sacred and disputed territory – the works reflect Niro's personal response to the public disorders. While the media coverage of the time focused on conflicts, its first play in the series, “Unitled” (1991), captures what it describes me as “a celebration of life”. The collage documents a Powwow scene, with its two smiling sisters with challenge. Arranged as a page of a family album, work underlines the community, resilience and joy in the face of hostility.
Kitty-corner of this stand, more Niro works are shown by the Andrew Smith gallery in Tucson alongside the work of another intelligent cultural commentator, Zig Jackson (Mandan-Hidatsa-Arikara), which mixes the performative portrait and documentary photography to challenge the stereotypes of native people and their erasure of modern society.
“His work is to let you know that the indigenous population is everywhere,” said gallery owner Andrew Smith. “In urban areas, you may not notice them, but they are there.”
Rights Society (ARS), New York)
Born into a military family in a northern Dakota reserve, Jackson sincerely honors indigenous veterans and their families in his Tribal veterans Series (c. 1994 – Present), cropping the warrior not as a relic of the past but as a symbol of contemporary indigenous identity and patriotism.
In a more satirical vein, Jackson's 1991-1992 series Indian Photographing Tourist Indian photograph Turn the camera – literally and conceptually – on the colonial gaze, parodying the objectification of indigenous peoples by treating the voyeurism of tourists as a spectacle. A photo exposed to the fair, representing white tourists squatting pushing their cameras in the faces of indigenous individuals in a ceremonial dress, is daring – I actually laughed aloud with used embarrassment – but the series never feels mean or unpleasant. Anyone who watched a street photographer chasing a grass influencer to Soho recognizes the inherent voyeurism of the photographic medium, and Jackson's exploration seems too meta to be read as a condemnation (literally) in black and white of the pastime.
In the rear area of the stand of the Obcura gallery of Santa Fe, Douglas Miles (Apache-Akimel O'odham) displays digital collages on a intimate and white scale which embrace the irony and the culture of the memes. The juxtapositions of the images found pixelated traveled on the internet are superimposed on images of contemporary skaters of Apache and members of the community. On a photo of Res skateboard Series (2024), a Kickflips baseball skateboarder on a host of Apache individuals of the 19th century sitting next to a train, while soldiers who turn firearms watch. The scene made has the impression that the soldiers are looking out with casualness on the fence near the skaters of Tompkins Square Park on the breakfast sandwiches, rather than supervising the likely transport of people. Is this comparison dark? Yes. Is it also strangely funny? Yes.
At the stand of the Russian Scheinbaum gallery in Santa Fe, Cara Romero (Chemehuevi) presents a vibrant and theatrical digital portrait, mixing indigenous futurism and humor. “The Zenith” by Romero (2022) surrounds the artist of Mvskoke Creek George Alexander with white corn floating in the star cosmos, offering a misleading meditation on the fragile future of heritage foods. Unintentionally Blue Origin rocket launch By the CEO of Amazon (and the WHOLE FOODS magnate) Jeff Bezos, the play by Romero reimagine the future not as a playground not claimed for technological billionaires, but as a space where ancestral knowledge and sustainability can prosper.
While Niro, Jackson, Miles and Romero anchor some of the most devious windows in the fair, a wide range of indigenous photographers advance powerful and self -determinated stories with more sincerity. La Monroe Gallery of Photography, also based in Santa Fe, shows striking works by Dine Eugene Tapahe's photographer Art Heals: The Jingle Dress Project (2020-present), who intertwines the ritual and protests to promote collective healing. At the stand of the own Bruce Silverstein gallery in New York, Dakota Mace (Dine) and Sarah Sense (Choctaw-Chitimacha) are respectively towards oral stories and archival research to question how individual memory shapes shared culture.
Together, these artists redefine the limits of the photographic cannon, positioning the indigenous experience not as a subject, but as a vital critical lens. In the middle of the constant movement of the fair, these works manage to anchor you – sometimes with humor, sometimes with tenderness, often with both.
