Huck Issue 72: Spring 2020

Huck is inspired by DIY culture, featuring people who make you think, who challenge the system, who strike out on their own. Packed with intelligent journalism and stunning photography, it covers the people and the places that are shaping culture all over the world.

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United Kingdom
The Church of London
CHF 30.06
6 Ausgaben

in dieser ausgabe

11 Min.
in constant motion

Humanity has never stopped moving. From the moment we first launched ourselves onto two legs, reaching out beyond our evolutionary cradle in the horn of Africa, our history has been marked by ceaseless travel. As a species, we have spread to the farthest reaches of the globe, in constant pursuit of new opportunities. And yet one form of movement has always been deeply stigmatised: that of people forced to flee their place of birth, by circumstances beyond their control. From the plight of Rohingya in Myanmar, to the migrant caravans through Mexico, to the continuing refugee crisis on the shores of Europe and other examples scarcely reported, 70 million people find themselves displaced around the world today. The scale of the problem might be unprecedented, but it’s reporting has also never been…

5 Min.
who is michael jang?

I was born in Marysville, California, 1951. Back then, they would have said I was an over-active child… but I think we have more clinical names for that now! I didn’t particularly do well in school or tests, though I always excelled in art and visual things. It was fairly obvious that I wasn’t ever going to be Harvard material. So when it was time for college, I applied to CalArts. I didn’t actually have any art, so I sent them samples of psychedelic light shows that I used to put on for rock bands with my friends. CalArts accepted me, but they didn’t know where to place me in terms of the specific school. So they just stuck me in the design school, which, at the time, offered a photo class.…

4 Min.
i’ve always been a cowboy in my heart

I got my first BMX when I was 10. Nowadays, BMXing and skateboarding is cool, but back then we were outcasts – you’d get beat up just for being different. When I was a kid, home was Newmains, a working-class, ex-mining town about 20 miles southeast of Glasgow. It was pretty rundown. I just wanted to be on my BMX all the time. There were a few of us who were into it, we had a wee gang and as we got older we would enter small competitions, get drunk, have a riot… I loved the freedom. But when I was about 19, I got in some trouble. Because we were the only BMXers in town – because we stuck out – these thugs came after us one night. One of them…

5 Min.
street studios

In my childhood home, there was an old black-and-white photograph that used to hang in the hallway. It was a family portrait – of my grandparents, my great uncles and my mother as a three-year-old, all posing in a photographer’s studio. At the time, they were going through a lot of upheaval – they were recent economic migrants who’d moved from a small island in Greece to South Africa – but all you could see was their pride; their elegance. It’s an amazing, dignified image. Of all the photographs I have, it’s the one I treasure most. When I was a teenager, South Africa was going into democracy – the world was being explained to me in this incredible way through photography. I decided that was the kind of thing I wanted…

4 Min.

My love for photography comes from my grandfather. He was captain of a ship in World War II and came back quite clearly traumatised. He used to shout at everyone in the family, but he’d also take pictures of us all, using a waist-level box camera. I see now that this was a way for him to mediate some kind of relationship with the world – because he could no longer do it by conventional means. Photography was a powerful tool for him, almost like therapy. That made a big impression on me. Seeing how important a camera was for my grandfather, I always knew that I needed photography to be more than just pictures on a wall. I felt it wasn’t enough to just have an image reproduced in a…

2 Min.
lindokuhle sobekwa on ernest cole

I remember coming across Ernest Cole’s book, House of Bondage, when I was in high school. At the time, I was familiar with a lot of black photographers – but not black South African ones. So when I learned of his work, I was immediately inspired. The fact that he was also working in his early 20s was particularly influential to me, given that I was just 17 at the time. For those who do not know him, Ernest Cole was South Africa’s first black freelance photojournalist. He worked under the hardship of apartheid. Obviously, it wasn’t easy to work under such circumstances. If a black person was found carrying a camera and shooting the kind of stories that Ernest was capturing, they’d be in big trouble. So in that sense, he…