The Covid-19 outbreak has seen most Magnum photographers restricted in their movements. As part of an ongoing photographer-led initiative, Magnum photographers are sharing information, updates, and new work made in these strange and difficult times.
This work will be shared through Magnum Photos’ Instagram in the form of albums and Instagram Stories takeovers, as well as on the Magnum Photo website. Over coming weeks, we’ll be featuring a series of edits of these images, made by project leader Peter van Agtmael, alongside personal notes and reflections from Magnum photographers on how they are experiencing the unfolding situation.
© Nanna Heitmann | Magnum Photos
The life in my neighborhood, surrounded in soviet skyscrapers has always been quiet anonymous. Many neighbors left to the countryside to stay at their summer homes. I started to observe the ones who stayed. I have noticed this dog some time ago. Now he changed his outfit – seemingly to fit to the current situation. He takes a walk at least three times a day. Sometimes in the company of a women, sometimes in the company of a man. Moscow. Russia. April 8, 2020.
© Lorenzo Meloni | Magnum Photos
Spedali Civili. Unit specialized in Covid-19, operates in an area specially built with tents and in the underground of the Hospital to receive infected patients. Brescia. Italy. March 16, 2020.
© Lua Ribeira | Magnum Photos
The Downs is one of the largest parks in Bristol and one of the few places that remains almost the same. The weather is changing, days are longer and for many, this field seems to be the most rewarding place to be. Bristol. GB. April 5, 2020.
© Patrick Zachmann | Magnum Photos
Coronavirus crisis. Some volunteers of NGO Secours Populaire in the 18th district are distributing food to poor people around and in the North suburbs. Here in St Denis. Confined neighbors watching. Paris, France. April 2, 2020.
© Peter van Agtmael | Magnum Photos
The changes in the neighborhood have been startling. One day, everyone was waiting on line for brunch, racing around the track, playing basketball, and luxuriating in the sun as spring began blooming. It became a virtual ghost town overnight. Frankly, I’m grateful. While the bars and restaurants were packed, it was clear the virus was running rampant. I can’t believe how dismissive people were of the startling infection projections from a cross section of extremely trust worthy sources. Brooklyn, New York. USA. April 20, 2020.
© Sohrab Hura | Magnum Photos
I live in a one room apartment on the terrace atop a residential building. Such rooftop apartments are called Barsati (derived from the word Barsat which means rain) It’s a very Delhi thing, this way of living and it’s dying out slowly. Delhi was always known for its rooftop life. In some seasons especially around August you would see people flying kites from their rooftops, in the winter these spaces would have people soaking themselves in the sun. In the last few days with the lockdown, people have come up on the roofs again. I realized that i’ve been spending time here every day between 5pm and 7 pm to catch the last of the light, the temperature at this time is quite pleasant and this is also an hour when people are usually out. In India most of the day people are inside their homes except in the winter and it is around this time of the evening that they go out for walks, jogs, to shop, and the usual daily routine. Since restrictions were put into place, people have started making their time on the roof as a daily routine. A part of me feels like this work is about me and my rooftop more than anything else. I’m alone here.. I feel curious about other people now that i’m not able to meet my friends etc. a part of me is also feeling a bit voyeuristic wondering from my rooftop if i can look into other people’s lives. I can sense that they are doing the same as well. Delhi. India. March 28, 2020.
© Olivia Arthur | Magnum Photos
Olivia Arthur Photographs of Mother’s day flowers taken around 10 am every day between March 23,2020 and April 6, 2020.
© Alex Majoli | Magnum Photos
Covid-19 Crisis. Cleaning beds in Reggio Emilia hospital. Reggio Emilia. Italy. March 2nd, 2020.
© Carolyn Drake | Magnum Photos
The sun came out one day and my partner and I packed up the camera gear and rode our bikes around to say hi to some friends in the neighborhood, trying to follow the 6 foot distance rule. Vallejo, California. USA. March 30, 2020.
© Chien-Chi Chang | Magnum Photos
Home during the Austria lockdown due to the global pandemic Covid-19. Austria. Graz. April 7, 2020.
© Jean Gaumy | Magnum Photos
Our daughter Marie and her children had been confined, infected with the virus for 12 days. Twelve hard days. We came as often as possible but it was not to enter their home. That day we had the surprise to find them playing the cello. They were finally getting better. Fécamp, Normandy, France, March 22, 2020.
© Alec Soth | Magnum Photos
In Minnesota the winters are hard. This year the giddiness of anticipation for approaching spring has been replaced with dread of the coming viral surge. But I haven’t had a desire to take “serious” photographs of the state of affairs. My photographic disinterest reminds me of how I felt a few years ago on an African safari. Knowing I couldn’t contribute anything novel within this context, I put down my camera and simply used binoculars. I fell in love with the look of the circular view and ended up using my iPhone to take pictures through my binoculars. Over the last few weeks I’ve returned to this way of seeing the world. I’m not trying to make a great National Geographic picture, nor an important statement on the pandemic. I’m simply trying to savor the fleeting pleasures of looking in a time of profound unease. Minneapolis, Minnesota. USA. March 22, 2020.