photo poster project

photo poster project is a photo poster exhibition that anyone can join simply by choosing a city and date.

We call it ppp, and it is more than just an exhibition. It is a welcoming community where anyone can share their story, as well as a chance to meet photographers and creators from around the world in person.

The next ppp will be held at 千鳥文化 in Kitakagaya, Osaka, on Saturday, November 28!
Joining photo poster project, organized by cizucu, is easy.


1. Choose where and when you want to exhibit

2. Pay by credit card, Apple Pay, Google Pay, or another available method

3. Upload your photo to cizucu and submit it


Then all you need to do is come along. Plenty of local photographers will be taking part too, so you may even meet some new people to take photos with.

Event details

Date and time
Saturday, November 28, 2026, 12:00–16:00
Please note: Exhibitors must be at the venue from 13:30 to 15:30.
Admission is free for visitors who are not exhibiting.

Schedule for exhibitors
12:00–13:30 Free time
13:30–14:00 Exhibitors present their photos
14:00–15:30 Meet and mingle
15:30–16:00 Closing and poster collection

Venue
千鳥文化
5-2-28 Kitakagaya, Suminoe Ward, Osaka 559-0011, Japan
About a three-minute walk from Exit 4 of Kitakagaya Station on the Osaka Metro Yotsubashi Line
http://chidoribunka.jp/about/

Participation fee
¥6,000, including A2 printing, installation, and venue costs
Admission to the exhibition is free.

Theme
No theme / Open
There is no set theme. Portraits, street photos, landscapes, and any other kind of photography are welcome. Send us a photo with a story you want to share, or simply one you feel drawn to for reasons you cannot explain. We look forward to seeing a photo that feels like you.

Important information

Please read the following information carefully before signing up.

• The participation fee covers printing, installation, and venue costs. Once payment has been made, the fee is non-refundable, including if you do not submit a photo or cannot attend on the day.
• Your submission must meet the following requirements:
  • File size
    • Recommended: at least 4,000 pixels on the short edge
    • Required: at least 2,000 pixels on the short edge
  • Portrait orientation only
  • A single photo only. Collages, photos with added text, borders, and similar treatments are not accepted.
• Please read the community rules when submitting so that we can make this an enjoyable event for everyone.
• Photos and video will be taken at the event. They may be used on our website, social media, advertisements, and other promotional materials.
• If you are at the venue when the event ends, you may take your photo poster home. We cannot ship posters at a later date.

We look forward to seeing your submissions!

Frequently asked questions

Q: How do I pay the participation fee?
A: After choosing the venue and date, you can pay by credit card or, depending on your device, with Apple Pay, Google Pay, or another available method. Payments are non-refundable, and the fee still applies if you cannot attend on the day.

Q: Where do I submit my photo?
A: Once your payment is complete, you will either be taken to the submission page automatically or receive a link by email.

Q: Can I take my poster home?
A: Yes, as long as you are at the venue when the event ends at 16:00. We cannot ship posters, so please bring your own bag to carry it home.

Q: Can friends come and see the exhibition?
A: Of course! Once you receive your confirmation email, feel free to share the event on social media and invite them along.

Q: I heard I can have business cards made. How does that work?
A: We will send you the details by email once your participation is confirmed.

Q: Can I sign up before deciding which photo to submit?
A: Yes. Some events sell out before the submission deadline, so we recommend reserving your place first and uploading your photo by the deadline.

Q: Can I see reports from previous events?
A: Yes—take a look at the articles below ⭐️

cizucu holds photo poster project exhibitions around the world. All you need to do to take part is post a photo on cizucu, and you’ll have the chance to meet fellow photographers you might never otherwise cross paths with.

This time, we spoke with Sherry about her experience taking part in photo poster project.

Tell us a little about yourself.

Hi, I’m Sherry, and I’m from Taiwan. I currently live in Japan, where I work as an editor for a travel information website.

I love travelling on my own. I usually use my smartphone to capture the places I come across and how I feel in the moment. For me, photography isn’t about creating the perfect image. It’s about holding on to moments that move me.
Whether I’m travelling or going about my everyday life, I’m drawn to scenes that look different depending on the light, angle and surroundings. Those are the moments I often find myself photographing.

What made you want to take part?

I first heard about photo poster project through an Instagram Stories ad. It looked really interesting, and I wanted to know more right away.

I’d always enjoyed taking photos, but I’d never taken part in an exhibition or shared my photos publicly before.
What appealed to me about photo poster project was that I could join simply by submitting a photo, without having to plan or prepare an exhibition myself. I also liked the idea of seeing my photo on display and meeting other people who enjoy photography, so I decided to take part almost immediately.

What was it like taking part?

I was a little nervous beforehand. It was my first photo exhibition, and I wasn’t very confident in my Japanese.

I’m naturally shy, and I’m not very good at starting conversations with people I don’t know. I was worried about whether I’d be able to connect with people at the venue, but that feeling quickly disappeared once I got there.
The atmosphere was much warmer than I’d imagined, and the staff, other exhibitors and visitors were all incredibly kind. They started conversations with me and checked in on me, which helped me feel at ease, talk about my photo and enjoy the event.

It was the first time I’d ever seen one of my photos on display, and it was a very special experience. Hearing about other people’s photos and the stories behind them also made me realise that photography isn’t just a way to keep a record—it can bring people together too.

I travelled from Nagoya to Tokyo especially to take part in photo poster project. For me, it wasn’t just about joining a photo exhibition; it was also a little trip in its own right.
photo poster project takes place in cities around the world. I love the idea that when I travel somewhere new, I might be able to bring back a photo from that trip and take part again.

Why did you choose this photo?

I chose this photo not only because it looks intriguing, but also because it captures an important turning point in my life.
I took it while travelling alone, before I moved to Japan. At the time, I felt both excited and anxious about what lay ahead.

When I saw the building appearing to lean, it made me feel that things aren’t always exactly as they appear. Sometimes, changing your perspective can reveal new possibilities.

Even now, when I look at this photo, I remember who I was then—full of excitement and anxiety as I prepared to step into an unknown future.

What would you say to someone thinking about joining photo poster project?

If you’re like I was—someone who loves taking photos but has never taken part in an exhibition—I’d really encourage you to give it a try.

Before I joined, I worried about whether my photo was good enough to display and whether I would fit in. But once I took part, I realised it wasn’t a place where people competed over whose photos were best. It was a place to share photos and the stories behind them.

The photos you usually take on your smartphone are absolutely fine. You don’t have to be a professional photographer. If you love photography, you can easily share your photos and your story.
It was such a valuable and enjoyable experience for me, and I’d definitely recommend it to any of my friends who love taking photos.

Photos capture more than people and places. They also reflect what it cost to take a photo at the time.

The price of a camera, the cost of film and processing, the effort of carrying the equipment, and the time and skill required all played a part. Here, we consider how these costs have changed who gets to take photos and what they choose to photograph.

Whose Viewpoint Has Been Preserved?

When photography first became more widespread, taking a photo required expensive equipment and specialist knowledge. Access to cameras was largely limited to studio photographers, people working for governments, research institutions and news organisations, and wealthy individuals. As a result, many surviving photographs show subjects that photographers or institutions considered important: portraits, cities, industry, war and scientific records.

Cost was not the only factor—social structures and values mattered too—but who had access to a camera helped determine which viewpoints became part of the historical record.

How a Limited Number of Frames Shaped Memory

A roll of film offered only a limited number of frames, and developing and printing cost money too. Before pressing the shutter, people had to decide whether a moment was worth using one of those precious frames.

Weddings, graduations, holidays and birthdays. Old family albums are often filled with major milestones, perhaps because people deliberately chose the moments from everyday life that felt worth preserving. An album is not a complete family history; it is also a portrait of how a family chose to see itself.

Choosing After the Shot, Not Before

Smartphones have brought the cost of each photo close to zero, turning everything from meals to receipts into pictures.

But that does not mean we have stopped making choices. We have moved from deciding whether to use a frame before taking a photo to choosing afterwards which photos to keep, delete or post. Social media and algorithms also influence which photos are shared and which remain in our memories.

Why Choose the Less Convenient Way?

As the effort required to take each photo has decreased, what we point our cameras at has changed too. Photography once focused mainly on important people and events. Now it also records everyday meals, views seen along the way, mistakes and trial and error. At the same time, some photographers deliberately embrace the limited number of frames and the effort of processing film, choosing to keep taking photos in the traditional way.

That choice may seem impractical if efficiency is the only goal. Yet those limits can encourage photographers to look more closely at their subject, wait for the right frame and remember how it felt to take the photo. Thinking about the costs and constraints behind a photo can give us an even richer way of seeing it.

Through interviews with individuals who pursue photographic expression through unique perspectives, we explore the origins of their creativity, their philosophies, and their creative processes, bringing fresh inspiration to photographers and photo media around the world.

Based in the San Francisco Bay Area, artist RACHEL M LIU works with her own family’s photo archives to explore what photography reveals and withholds. Through traditional and experimental processes, such as hand-painting silver prints, the practice considers photography’s opacity and its boundaries with other media.

Currently taking some time away from art practice to focus on raising her three-year-old son, the artist sees creative practice as something that can evolve with life rather than remain fixed to a single style or method. In these “10 Questions,” we explore the memories, material freedom, and hope at the heart of the work.

RACHEL M LIU

RACHEL M LIU is an artist based in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her projects, including “Dear Photographs” and “Remember Me Like This,” reinterpret photographs from her own family archive taken between the 1940s and 1980s. Rooted in found photography, particularly found family photographs, her work explores the opacity of the photographic medium and the boundary between photography and other media.

She is currently taking a hiatus from her art practice to focus on motherhood and family.

Instagram: rachel.m.liu

Q1. Tell us about the origins of your photography and your current activities.

My recent projects, “Dear Photographs” and “Remember Me Like This,” are reinterpretations of personal family photographs taken between the 1940s and 1980s. These projects have their roots in the genre of found photography, particularly found family photographs. In my case, I worked exclusively with my own family’s photo archive.

Currently, I am a full-time mom to a three-year-old and am taking a hiatus from my art practice.

As for balancing parenthood and creative work, I’m still very much in the thick of it, and I haven’t found an answer yet. To be honest, when you try to fully engage with both, I think some aspects of each inevitably have to be sacrificed or compromised.

At the same time, I don’t want to bind myself to any particular style, method, or single idea. As my circumstances and stage of life change, the way I relate to my practice changes as well. To me, a practice means accepting those changes and continuing to evolve.

Q2. What are the most important elements or themes in your work?

One recurring element in my work is an exploration of the opacity of the photographic medium. Photography is inherently both factual and fictitious, forthcoming and withholding. I also probe the boundary between photography and other media.

Q3. How do your works come to life? We’d love to know what goes on behind the creative process—intuition, chance encounters, and on-the-spot decisions.

I always seem to make interesting discoveries when experimenting and working with materials directly and physically. I think that is when I am most free and when I do my best work.

The freedom to play with materials and processes makes my work come to life.

Q4. What drives you to keep creating?

I guess I feel most alive when I create, and I hope that what I end up making and saying will resonate with another fellow human being.

Q5. Please share one photograph you have encountered and reinterpreted. We’d also love to hear why you chose it.

I created two versions reinterpreting a studio portrait of my mother as a young woman. The first was the black-and-white version, made in 2020. The second was made in 2023 for the publication of “Remember Me Like This” by La Maison de Z.

Both were silver prints made in a traditional darkroom and later painted by hand with gouache and ink. I will leave it to readers to decide which one they prefer and how the differences affected their interpretations.

Q6. In the age of AI, what do you think photography means?

I’m not sure how it will impact photography. However, it certainly forces us to think again about an uncomfortable question to which answers have historically been elusive: what is art?

Q7. Within the San Francisco Bay Area scene, what movements or communities do you feel are particularly significant?

Two nonprofit organizations came to mind: Local Color San Jose and Creative Growth.

These organizations are significant because they provide local artists with the space and freedom to make art, while also creating opportunities for them to generate income from their work and connect with their communities. At the end of the day, you have to be able to pay the bills to keep making art.

Q8. Are there photographers or creative scenes from other countries that inspire or excite you?

The work of many contemporary Chinese photographers often feels like a breath of fresh air to me. I particularly like the work of Beijing-based photographer Lin Zhipeng.

Q9. Tell us about something you would dedicate your life to pursuing.

Creating works that are authentic and genuine, and that can touch the heart of another human being.

Q10. What message would you like to share with creators around the world, from where you stand today?

I don’t have a message, but rather a question that I have been pondering a lot.

In a world filled with an overwhelming amount of tragedy, chaos, and struggle, where do art and artists fit in? How do we, as creators, find meaning in what we do?

The answer to these questions may not be clear right away. Even so, let us continue to see art not as something that must resolve the world’s contradictions all at once, but as a practice of engaging carefully with memory, materials, and our connections with others.

Every photographer has a story about the camera they love, and that choice often reflects how they see life and what matters to them. For me, that camera is the RICOH GR IIIx HDF.

There are moments on a familiar street or at home that suddenly make me stop. Children racing around a playground, flowers blooming with the changing seasons, or my dog taking it easy. The RICOH GR IIIx HDF lets me capture these ordinary yet special days without making a big production of it.

RICOH GR IIIx HDF: The Basics

The RICOH GR IIIx HDF is a compact digital camera based on the RICOH GR IIIx. It has a built-in Highlight Diffusion Filter that diffuses highlights for a softer look. It retains the GR series' high image quality, quick response, and portability, while letting you switch the HDF on or off at the touch of a button.

Ready Whenever Something Makes Me Stop

Every now and then, an ordinary day brings a special moment that makes me stop in my tracks. Taking a photo of it can make the whole day feel a little more special.

The RICOH GR IIIx HDF is small and light, so I can take it anywhere without thinking twice. It naturally finds its way into my bag even when I have no plans to take photos. When something catches my eye, I can pull it out and press the shutter without hesitation.

Because it is so easy to carry, I can respond to small changes in daily life without setting out specifically to take photos. Carrying a camera stops feeling like a special occasion and simply becomes part of my everyday life.

When the Light Softens, the Feeling Comes Through

What I especially love is the atmosphere I get when the HDF is on. The light blooms softly, giving the photo a calm, gentle quality.

Rather than simply recording a scene with perfect clarity and accuracy, it feels as though the camera also captures the light and air of that day, along with how I felt when I pressed the shutter. The HDF's soft look gently brings out the feelings I found in an otherwise unremarkable scene.

Today's Ordinary Moments May One Day Become Precious

Nothing dramatic happens in my photos. They show my familiar neighbourhood and home, the dog I spend so much time with, and the scenery changing little by little with each season. These scenes may look ordinary to someone else, but to me they are important moments that caught my eye in the middle of everyday life.

Since I started using the RICOH GR IIIx HDF, I have stopped worrying so much about whether I am making a good photo. Now I press the shutter simply because I want to remember what is right in front of me.

As those photos accumulate one by one, they become fragments of the time I have lived through. I want to hold on to these ordinary yet special days for as long as I can. The RICOH GR IIIx HDF fits naturally into my life and quietly helps me do just that. It has become the camera I always reach for.

최혜지（Choi Hyeji）

With the RICOH GR IIIx HDF, I photograph the moments that catch my attention in ordinary life, from neighbourhood scenes and seasonal flowers to my dog.

cizucu: 최혜지

Read Your Photography looks beyond the image to uncover the stories a photo alone cannot tell. cizucu magazine translates the stories and personal moments behind photos gathered through the cizucu-run photo poster project and social media into 12 languages and shares them with people around the world.

You could keep the story behind your photo to yourself. But sharing it might quietly touch someone and move them in ways you never imagined.

This time, we’re featuring photos and stories from three photographers around the world.
Let’s take a closer look at each of their one-of-a-kind stories.

황성연’s Story

황성연

📷 Sony α7
📚 01

A connection led me to take a photography trip to Ulleungdo.
We were due to start shooting the next day, but unlike the other photographers, I didn’t have a clear sense of what I wanted to capture. I felt under pressure not to take worse photos than everyone else, and soon I had no idea what to photograph at all.
I wandered down to the sea and came across some boys swimming. Without thinking, I pressed the shutter. Watching them swim through the open sea as freely as if it were their own room, I felt envious.
That was when I remembered what I had always loved about photography: simply photographing and recording the things I like.
I needed to stop overthinking and shoot more freely.
This photo freed me from the pressure to take a “good” picture and helped me start photographing whatever moved me again. For me, it was a reminder of why I picked up a camera in the first place.

cizucu editors
A boy swims through the open sea as though it were his own place in the world. His freedom does more than make him the subject of the photo—it also lifts the pressure weighing on the photographer. Taken instinctively, at a time when every thought was focused on getting the photo “right,” this image brought back the simple urge that first inspired 황성연 to take photos. Rather than comparing yourself with others or searching for the right answer, photography can simply mean recording what moves you. This photo captures the moment the boys’ freedom became the photographer’s own, quietly reminding us where photography begins.

moments.and.moods’s Story

moments.and.moods

📷 Apple iPhone 13
📚 02

The veterinary hospital felt cold and uneasy that day. While my cat was inside receiving chemotherapy for cancer, I sat in the waiting room, overwhelmed by the anxiety of not being able to do anything. I could hardly breathe.
I looked around, trying to distract myself, and noticed a man and his dog a short distance away. The man had his head down, looking at his phone, while the dog lay on the cold floor. The light in the room fell across the dog’s face. It wasn’t fidgeting or restless. With its chin resting on the floor, it looked back at me with calm, slightly tired eyes.

There was something in that gaze—a quiet patience and a sense of simply being there for someone.
The dog might not have understood illness, but perhaps it understood the warmth of the person beside it and what it meant to wait. In that moment, with time frozen by anxiety, I pressed the shutter.
This photo records more than a dog and its owner. It also holds the feelings I had nowhere to put that day. All of us there were waiting for the same thing: a little hope.

cizucu editors
A dog lying on the cold floor of a veterinary hospital creates a moment of stillness in a room filled with tension. It may not understand illness, but it can sense the presence and warmth of the person beside it, staying close and waiting. Its gaze seems to hold both unspoken anxiety and a steady sense of hope. For the photographer, who was waiting while their cat underwent treatment, this dog was both a stranger and a reflection of their own feelings. The light falling across the cold floor and the dog’s gentle expression quietly remind us that even during a lonely wait, there can be comfort in knowing someone else shares the pain.

kyusang.tif’s Story

kyusang.tif

📷 Canon EOS M50m2
📚 03

On an especially hot summer day, I headed out with my camera to photograph sunlight sparkling on the water.
When I photograph nature, I usually try to keep people out of the frame as much as possible. But that day, while I was shooting the light on the water, someone suddenly stepped into view.

My first instinct was to avoid them, as I normally would. Then I looked more closely and saw a boy holding a fishing net and peering intently into the water.
It was as if his curiosity, daring, and innocence had led him to try to scoop up the stars glittering beneath the surface.

It was incredibly hot, and carrying my camera around was hard work. Even so, this photo turned the day into a memory that still sparkles for me.

cizucu editors
Light scattered across the water, and a boy holding a fishing net. His unexpected arrival in the frame shifted the photographer’s attention away from nature alone and opened the door to a story. As he peers into the water, he looks almost as if he is trying to scoop up countless stars. Because the composition wasn’t planned, it preserves the boy’s curiosity and innocence, along with the dazzling brightness of a summer day. This chance encounter in the intense heat transformed a fleeting moment into a sparkling memory.

A Final Thought

What did you think of these stories?

We want to look beyond visual appeal and explore what an image alone cannot fully express. Read Your Photography is a series that looks at the thoughts and emotions behind a photo and invites us to experience them as a story.

A photo captures only a fraction of a second. Behind it, however, lies all the time that led up to that moment, along with feelings that may never have been put into words.

Take your time with each photo. Read it like a story, then turn the page.

How to Join

Every so often, cizucu shares a photo prompt on Threads.
To join in, simply reply with a photo that fits the prompt.

There’s just one requirement: follow cizucu on social media 💙
We’ll select entries from the replies,
and the cizucu editorial team will message the chosen photographers!

Read Your Photography also features photos exhibited through the cizucu-run photo poster project (ppp).

ppp may already be happening in your country. Around the world, more and more people are connecting through nothing more than a shared love of photography.

Through interviews with individuals and media who pursue photographic expression from unique perspectives, we delve into the origins of their creativity, their ideas, and their production processes—delivering fresh inspiration to photographers and photo media around the world.

XinTaiXing is a photobook store based in Tainan, Taiwan. Originally founded in 1950 as a garment factory, the space reopened in 2024 as a bookstore centered on Taiwanese photography publications. Archiving its story, and the values behind its work, offers a way to think about how photobooks can carry the memory of a place into the future.

This time, we posed “10 Questions” to XinTaiXing to explore how Taiwanese photography publications can share the history, culture, and stories of Taiwan with readers across borders.

XinTaiXing

XinTaiXing, founded in Tainan in 2024, is a Taiwanese photobook store selling rare Taiwanese photobooks, new independent works, and Korean photography publications, while also hosting reading groups and exhibitions.

Instagram：@xintaixing_1950

Q1. Could you tell us about the origins of XinTaiXing and the work you are engaged in today?

XinTaiXing was originally a garment factory founded in 1950 in the Sakariba district of Tainan’s West Central District. After a market fire in the 1980s and broader changes in urban development, the factory eventually closed in 1988.

At Christmas 2024, we reopened the doors of XinTaiXing. This time, it was no longer based on the old garment business model, but on Taiwanese photography publications. We wanted to use photobooks as a way to share and think about what “Taiwanese photography” means.

For a long time, many Taiwanese photobooks have been independently published and sold mainly online, leaving few opportunities for readers to pick them up and look through them in person. That is why we brought XinTaiXing back: to create Taiwan’s first bookstore built specifically around Taiwanese photography publications.

Q2. What stories do you hope to share through Taiwanese photography publications?

For us, photography has always been a medium of cultural communication that transcends language. A photobook conveys not only images, but also the many layers beneath them: culture, history, ethnicity, society, and the lived experiences of a place.

Because photography can speak intuitively across language barriers, we hope Taiwanese photography publications can become a way for both Taiwanese people and international readers to see Taiwan. Images from different eras carry the passage of time on this land, revealing Taiwan’s histories and stories in a way that words alone cannot.

Q3. What kinds of projects do you organize to introduce and share photobooks?

As a photobook store, one of our main tasks is to think about how to introduce and share each book with readers. Many of our projects are built around helping the public discover photobooks and develop habits of reading and collecting them.

Beyond selling books, we have built a collection of over 1,000 photobooks from Taiwan, Korea, Japan, China, Europe, and the United States. Through themed book exhibitions, we introduce these publications while guiding viewers to see how different photographers approach the same subject, and to explore the weight and meaning behind each way of seeing.

Q4. How are you working to share Taiwanese photography publications with international audiences?

We are always thinking about how each book can be discovered and collected in the right context, not only in Taiwan but internationally as well.

In addition to introducing photographers and photobooks through social media, we created an English-language Instagram account, @xintaixing_books, where we present classic Taiwanese photography publications from the past to the present. By using a language that is more accessible internationally, we hope to create a starting point for connection between overseas readers and Taiwanese photobooks.

Q5. What kind of power do you think the photobook format holds?

We have always believed that a photobook is a more lasting and effective way for photographers to present their work. An exhibition eventually comes to an end, and images shared on social media are often forgotten quickly within today’s browsing habits.

But when photographs are edited and sequenced, carrying the author’s thinking and story, they become a book that can be owned, collected, shared, and exchanged. The act of turning pages allows images to be remembered, read, and retained at the viewer’s own pace. In that sense, a photobook gives photography a longer-lasting form of expression and existence.

Q6. Looking back on your work so far, is there a project that has been especially memorable?

Over the years, XinTaiXing has collaborated with many outstanding Taiwanese photographers, and we have also partnered with the Japanese photography publisher AKAAKA to host a photographer exchange event. These experiences have all become important memories and sources of nourishment for us.

One particularly unforgettable project was our participation in Fujifilm Photo Festa 2026 in Korea this past June. We have long wanted to use photobooks to create communication that goes beyond words. For this event, the challenge was how to present more than 150 years of Taiwan’s visual history.

Rather than selecting books with sales as the main goal, we brought classic, out-of-print Taiwanese photography publications from different eras. Through the images made by earlier photographers, we hoped to convey Taiwan’s history, culture, struggles, conflicts, and the beautiful and difficult years this land has lived through. The response was very warm, and it encouraged us to continue using photobooks as a way to help international friends understand Taiwan more deeply.

Q7. What image of Taiwan do you hope to convey through Taiwanese photography?

International understanding of Taiwan often centers on the electronics industry or food culture. But Taiwan is also an island full of vitality, shaped by magnificent mountains and rivers, many different communities, and a complex history of colonization, conflict, understanding, and coexistence.

These deep stories of culture and land have been documented by Taiwanese photographers through their lenses. From colonial-era perspectives to the democracy movement, and from new immigrants to gender identity and local revitalization, Taiwanese photography has always been one of the most sincere and diverse expressions of Taiwanese culture.

That is why we hope to tell Taiwan’s story through Taiwanese photography, so that more international readers can come to know this place.

Q8. Have you been influenced by photobook publishing or bookstores from other countries?

As a photobook store that has only recently been established, there is still a great deal we need to learn from international photobook stores and publishers.

When thinking about photography as something the general public can easily access and understand, we see Thames & Hudson’s Photofile series and Youlhwadang’s Photography Library series in Korea as important references. Looking ahead, we hope to bring together different Taiwanese photography organizations and photographers to publish similar pocket-sized photography books, so that Taiwanese photographers and their work can be promoted and shared internationally in a way that is more accessible, lightweight, and affordable.

Q9. In the age of AI, what meaning do photography and photobooks hold?

In an era when AI and virtual worlds are becoming part of daily life, we believe the authenticity of images, and the value of owning them as physical books, are becoming increasingly important.

AI image generation may be convenient, but it does not mean photography itself will be replaced. Photography was never only about producing an image. What matters more is the process, experience, and feeling behind taking a photograph.

When a photographer looks, feels something, and chooses to press the shutter, the resulting image becomes a crystallization of time, space, and emotion. This is what gives photography its depth and authenticity, and it is a weight that AI-generated images can never replace. To everyone who still believes in what is real: please keep picking up your cameras and recording this moment.

Q10. Finally, is there any message you would like to share with photographers, photobook bookstores, publishers, and photography communities around the world today?

We are glad that this world still has so many friends who love photography, and we are grateful that we continue to hold onto our cameras, using our lenses to record the era that belongs to us.

Looking ahead, we hope that through Taiwanese photography publications, more people can come to know all the stories of this country.

Threads is Meta’s text-based social platform, where people from all over the world share countless posts every day.

find new pieces searches through the many photos posted on Threads to uncover exciting talent and share it in the magazine. Each edition has a theme, bringing together photos from around the world and introducing us to creative voices we have yet to discover.

How to join

Keep an eye on cizucu’s Threads account for a photo theme.
Then simply reply with a photo that fits it.

There’s just one requirement: follow cizucu on social media 💙
If your photo is selected,
the cizucu editorial team will send you a message!

This time, we’re featuring seven photos selected from the many submissions sent in from around the world.
Let’s take a look at the different perspectives and creative instincts behind them.

blurred・shaky・out of focus

Missed focus. Camera shake. Indistinct outlines.
In photography, these are often seen as mistakes.

But blurred light, shifting outlines, and uncertain forms can reveal things that a sharp photo cannot.
The haze of a memory, a flicker of emotion, a feeling before it can be put into words.
By leaving things unclear, a photo can bring out the warmth and speed of the moment while opening up space for the viewer’s imagination.

What fleeting moment did you find within the blur?
Show us the view that stayed with you beyond sharp focus and clear outlines.

new pieces

Diana Kenyeres

💙 01

cizucu editorial team
A figure sways through the lights of the night, capturing the exhilaration of a moment that feels almost like a dance. The dramatic motion blur softens the face and outline until the neon colours and movement of the body seem to blend together. What the photo gives up in sharpness, it makes up for in energy—you can almost imagine the sound and heat of the scene.

Swen MUN

📷 SONY α7R IV
💙 02

cizucu editorial team
With the city out of focus, the scene becomes quiet and uncertain, like walking through a memory. Monochrome grain and diffused light draw our attention away from the outlines of buildings and people and towards the atmosphere of dusk itself. Because so little is clearly defined, the photo leaves room for each viewer to connect it with memories of their own.

Yang

📷 RICOH GR IIIx HDF
💙 03

cizucu editorial team
Bands of blue, purple, and orange stretch across the frame, transforming the landscape into something almost abstract. A bold sweep of the camera changes the original subject, leaving behind a vivid rhythm of light and colour. By using blur like a free brushstroke, the photo shows just how much is possible through this kind of expression.

ukko77

💙 04

cizucu editorial team
A blurred motorbike cuts across the frame while people stand still behind it, bringing two different rhythms of city life together in a single photo. Against the vivid blue wall, the contrast between movement and stillness creates a strong visual beat. It’s a lively take on everyday street traffic, captured through overlapping impressions of speed and presence.

jd14626

💙 05

cizucu editorial team
Tiny fingers reaching towards the camera instantly close the distance between the viewer and the photo. The softly blurred expression and fabric bring out the warmth of early childhood and the tenderness of that moment of reaching out. It feels intimate, like gently bringing a half-remembered scene back within reach.

Elaine

💙 06

cizucu editorial team
Two people walking through a rainy city overlap with reflections in the glass and diffused light, as though suspended somewhere between reality and memory. Their silhouettes draw close beneath a single umbrella, while the orange glow around them captures the quiet intimacy of a rainy day. By letting several views melt together, the photo turns an ordinary journey home into a story.

LM

📷 FUJIFILM X-E5
💙 07

cizucu editorial team
Two people sit among the greenery, their softly blurred outlines making the scene feel like a distant memory. The contrast between their white clothing and the deep green remains, but their expressions and the space between them are deliberately left unclear, inviting us to imagine the quiet moment they share. Just beyond the point of focus, the photo holds on to the gentle feeling of youth.

Final thoughts

What did you think?

The theme “blurred・shaky・out of focus” steps away from the idea that there is one “correct” way to take a photo, giving familiar scenes a new look. In these submissions, blur, camera shake, and indistinct outlines convey the uncertainty of memory, the movement of the body, the lingering glow of light, and the feeling each photographer sensed in the moment.

Discovering creative talent we have yet to encounter—that is what find new pieces is all about. We hope being featured gives your photography a chance to reach even more people.


Look out for our next theme.
Follow cizucu on social media so you don’t miss it 💙

Along the Curve

“Along the Curve” is a global online photo contest hosted by cizucu and open to all creators registered on cizucu. By curating outstanding entries, cizucu aims to discover new talent and support photographers across the community.

This theme is “Smooth Lines.”

Even within a single still image, tracing a line can make the eye flow and create a sense of movement.
Fabric billowing in the wind, ripples spreading across water, the smooth curves of architecture. The bend of a body or trails of light stretching through the city at night. All around us are countless lines that naturally guide the eye.

Look beyond the contours of your subject to the connected forms within the composition and the trails created through motion blur. Even in familiar landscapes, you may discover lines that invite the eye to follow them.
We look forward to seeing an image that captures the beauty and flow of lines from your unique perspective.

Inspiration

Ermanno Fissore

cizucu editorial team
A road winds back and forth between rugged rock faces, with two people standing on it, arms outstretched. Despite the weight of the mountains around them, their bodies feel light, almost echoing the curves of the road. As the line shaped by the terrain meets their movement, the road itself seems to carry that movement onward.

らむか

cizucu editorial team
When water meets solid rock, its softness takes on a visible shape. There is the horizon stretching across the distance and the white trails coming apart at our feet. The contrast between these two lines in the same sea captures both the calm offshore and the constant movement at the water’s edge. Every time the water meets a rock, it changes course and traces its outline. Smoothness is not simply a quality of water; it comes from its relationship with whatever it touches.

鄧伃

cizucu editorial team
This photo shows just how many different lines appear before a bubble becomes round. The thin film stretches, narrows, and swells outward. Its outline seems to capture both the force of the hand’s movement and the resistance of the air filling it. The person’s gaze remains fixed on a form that has yet to settle, as though they were drawing the invisible movement of air by hand.

sy

📷 CANON PowerShot G9

cizucu editorial team
Each section of the railing is straight, but together they form one broad wave. Follow the curve of the handrail and the gaps narrow, then open up again, giving the rigid material a sense of flexibility. Perhaps the photographer saw the staircase as a landscape where the density of the lines keeps changing.

nori9

📷 NIKON Z6II

cizucu editorial team
Trails of light weave through the darkness alongside the many curves carved into the rice terraces. One marks a road traveled by people; the other, land cultivated over generations. Both bend with the contours of the mountain, revealing the relationship between the terrain and the people who live here. A car passes in an instant, while the fields have been tended for years. These very different spans of time leave smooth lines across the same hillside.

Contest Details

【Entry Period】
Saturday, September 26 – Sunday, October 25, 2026

【Winners Announced】
Around Wednesday, November 4, 2026

【Prize】
A complimentary entry ticket to cizucu’s “photo poster project” (2 winners)

【How to Enter】
· Select the “Along the Curve” contest
· Tap “Agree to the entry terms and post”
· Choose what you would like to post and submit your photo

【Judging Criteria】
(1) Relevance to the theme: Does the photo respond to the stated mission?
(2) Clarity of subject: Does the photo clearly communicate the photographer’s intention?
(3) Expression: Does the photo make effective use of perspective, composition, balance, focus, color, and other visual elements?
(4) Timing: Has the photographer captured the right moment?
(5) Originality: Does the choice of location, subject, or approach show originality?

The city is full of colour connections that are easy to miss. Spot a red sign, then look for the same colour on a bicycle or flower farther down the street. Near a blue shadow, you might notice a blue shirt or a flash of blue reflected in a window.

Walking with one colour in mind brings distant details together in the frame, turning a familiar street into a chain of small visual echoes. Rather than simply trying to make that colour look vivid, think about the memories and emotions it brings up. That’s where your own perspective starts to emerge in a street photo.

One colour can change how you see the city

When colour is your theme, start by choosing just one to focus on. Once you’ve settled on something specific—red, blue or yellow, for example—walk around looking for it on signs, clothes, flowers, cars and walls. Don’t stop after photographing it once. The idea is to keep finding the same colour in new places.

Limiting yourself to one colour draws your attention to details you might usually pass by. Beyond the bold presence of a red sign, you may begin to notice peeling red paint, the warm red cast of evening or a faint red reflection in glass. Capturing these differences in intensity reveals the city’s changing light and materials, even within a single colour.

Use distance and light to create colour echoes

When the same colour appears more than once in a frame, pay attention to the distance between each element. It might be a yellow shirt in the foreground and a small sign in the distance, or a blue road sign at the edge of the street and a patch of blue reflected in a puddle. Even when the details are far apart, placing them where the eye can travel between them creates a gentle rhythm. You don’t need to bring everything close together or spell out the connection.

Light also changes how a colour feels. Direct midday sun makes edges sharper and colours brighter, while shade and overcast skies soften them. In the evening, even a white wall takes on a different tint, while wet roads and glass catch shifting reflections from their surroundings. Before pressing the shutter, look beyond the colour itself to the light and texture transforming it.

Photograph the memories behind the colour

Colour doesn’t have to be just a rule for collecting eye-catching details. Look at the scratches on an old red door, a quiet alley cast in blue shadow or the feeling that lingers after someone in a yellow shirt has passed by. When you pay attention to the textures and moments surrounding a colour, the photo becomes more than a record of what you saw. It begins to carry the atmosphere you felt in that place.

As you walk, resist the urge to photograph every appearance of your chosen colour straight away. First, think about which details you want to connect within the frame. Some days you might move in close to bring out the texture of a single colour. On others, you might step back and show how several flashes of it relate to the wider street. Next time you head out with your camera, choose just one colour and follow its trail as the light changes.

Photographers share the stories behind the cameras they love. The camera someone chooses often says a lot about how they see life and what matters to them. This time, we speak with 勇人, who uses the Nikon Z7II.

He first bought this high-resolution camera to capture every detail of the mountain landscape, but eventually let it go. A few years later, he chose the very same model again. Why return to the Nikon Z7II instead of buying the latest camera? He talks about his fascination with high-resolution sensors and choosing a camera that helps him put his feelings into his photos.

Nikon Z7II at a glance

The Nikon Z7II is a full-frame mirrorless camera with a 45.75-megapixel backside-illuminated Nikon FX-format CMOS sensor. Its dual EXPEED 6 image processors deliver highly detailed images and responsive performance. With 493-point hybrid autofocus and in-body image stabilization, it can handle everything from landscapes to everyday snapshots.

My first high-resolution camera

The Nikon Z7 was my first high-resolution camera. It was also the first camera I chose when I switched from a DSLR to mirrorless.
High-resolution cameras can produce more noise, but they also capture an incredible amount of fine detail. I was excited to see what its successor, the Nikon Z7II, would be like.

At the time, I was really into mountain climbing. When you photograph mountains and nature, you come across little details you want to fix in your memory: the veins in a decaying leaf, or the thickness of the clouds hanging over a distant mountain. It might sound a little obsessive, but I wanted to capture those things as clearly as I could.

The detail I wanted, in a camera I could carry into the mountains

I was using a full-frame camera with around 24 megapixels, but over time it stopped feeling like enough. At the same time, climbing a mountain with heavy gear like a medium-format camera was not a realistic option.

I wanted a camera that was both light and capable of capturing fine detail. Then the Nikon Z7II came out. I immediately thought, “This is it.” It was expensive, but I decided to buy it.

Once I started shooting with it, the benefits of the high-resolution sensor were obvious in the level of detail it captured. Going into the mountains to take photos became even more enjoyable than before.

What I learned by letting it go

Then I developed health problems and had fewer chances to go into the mountains. As a result, the Nikon Z7II spent more and more time sitting in my dry cabinet. I felt bad seeing it go unused, and around the same time, another full-frame camera caught my attention. So I decided to sell the Z7II.

A few years later, while thinking about entering an open-call exhibition, I came across a large Japanese print size known as kiku-zen. I did not choose it that time, but it made me want to show my photos at that scale one day.

I started looking into what I would need to create files that could hold up at that size. That search led me back to a high-resolution camera.

Choosing the Nikon Z7II again

I went back and forth between medium format and full frame. In the end, the Nikon Z7II found its way onto my shortlist once again.
There were newer high-resolution options, including the Nikon Z9 and Nikon Z8. But my style had changed since the days when I mainly photographed mountains and nature. I had started using intentional blur in my photos, so the latest burst speeds, action-shooting performance, and eye detection were not high priorities for me.

What I remembered instead was how light the Z7II had felt on mountain climbs and how comfortable it was to use because I already knew it so well. So I decided to buy the Nikon Z7II again.

Putting more of myself into my photos

The Nikon Z7II was the first camera that made me realize an older model I knew well could suit me better than the latest camera packed with features.
Buying the same camera again might seem like taking the long way around. But letting it go helped me understand exactly what I wanted from my gear. I did not need the newest features. I needed a camera that suited the way I shoot and could help me express what I feel.

This is more than a camera tied to memories. It is one I feel deeply attached to, and that makes it easier to put something of myself into the photos I take with it. Still dreaming of making those large prints, I am taking photos with the Nikon Z7II once again.

勇人

I shoot street snapshots and nature.

cizucu: 勇人

Organized by cizucu in cities around the world, photo poster project is a photo poster exhibition that anyone can join simply by choosing a city and date.

The project, which we call ppp, is more than just a photo exhibition. It is a welcoming community where everyone can share their story and a chance to connect with creators from around the world in person.

This time, we spoke with seiya_4561 about taking part in photo poster project.

Tell us about yourself!

Hi, I'm seiya. I live in Miyagi Prefecture, and I've been taking photos for less than a year. Photography is a hobby for me, and I mostly photograph nature and other landscapes. If the weather is good on a day off, I can't stay indoors—I head somewhere in or outside the prefecture just to take photos.

What made you decide to take part?

I first heard about photo poster project when a staff member reached out to me. I had never taken part in an exhibition before, but after looking at the website, it seemed easy to join even as a beginner. I also felt that it might broaden my creative horizons, so I decided to take the plunge.

What was the experience like?

When I heard that people spend around 1.7 seconds looking at a photo on social media, it made perfect sense. I usually use Instagram, but because of the way social media works, I had never really taken the time to look closely at a single photo.

At the exhibition, I focused on the photos in front of me while listening to the creators talk about them. I realized just how much that could change what I saw and how I interpreted each photo. It was a really rewarding experience.

Why did you choose this photo?

I usually take photos to preserve the things I find beautiful. But when I started thinking about what I wanted to show people at the exhibition, the first place that came to mind was my hometown—the place in this photo.

I chose this for my first exhibition because I hoped that sharing the landscape where I grew up would give people a chance to get to know me a little better.

For anyone thinking about joining photo poster project

One of the best things about this exhibition is that anyone can take part for one simple reason: they love photography. Even if you find it hard to talk to people, there are plenty of natural conversation starters. You don't need any special knowledge to get completely absorbed in the experience—I certainly didn't.

I'm sure it will make you love taking photos even more.
Take the plunge and step into a new world of photography!

Introduction

“Komorebi” was a global online photo contest hosted by cizucu and open to all creators registered on the platform. By highlighting outstanding submissions, cizucu aims to discover new talent and support photographers through its community.

The theme of this contest was “Komorebi.”

“Komorebi” is a Japanese word describing sunlight filtering through the gaps between leaves, tracing patterns of light and shadow across the ground, walls, or someone’s skin. It shifts with every breath of wind, never revealing the same form twice.
As you contemplate this light, the contours of familiar scenery may begin to dissolve, merging with delicate reveries or distant memories long forgotten.

Light spilling through the leaves, shadows swaying in the breeze, patterns cast upon buildings, or a figure standing quietly within the light. We received photos capturing the fleeting reveries that entrants discovered amid komorebi.

Here are some of the submissions, followed by the winning photos.

Selected Submissions

Kamil

📷 Leitzphone powered by Xiaomi

cizucu editorial team
The light falling across the path seems to show us exactly where to pause. A sunlit patch of grass lies between the deep shadows of the trees. Imagining a walk through this scene brings back the warmth of the sun and the cool air in the shade.

Julie wei

cizucu editorial team
The flowers and leaves printed on the curtain seem to flourish in the light shining through it. Light and shadow layer themselves along the folds of the fabric, creating a little patch of shade inside the room. Seen through the idea of komorebi, a simple curtain becomes a whole landscape. That imaginative shift caught our attention.

Yudaicho

cizucu editorial team
Light traces the sharp edges of the plants. Glimmers appear throughout the tangled shadows, revealing a different shape wherever the eye lands. There is a real sense of life reaching toward the light. The meeting of komorebi and these hardy plants makes the simple act of growing in sunlight feel immediate and vivid.

Winning Photos

服部まいこ

📷 FUJIFILM X100V

cizucu editorial team
When this child looks back at the photo one day, they may have forgotten why they stopped there, but perhaps they will notice the care in the gaze directed toward them. The drink in their hand and the light filtering across their clothes and feet both feel like moments the photographer wanted to preserve. The shutter was pressed not because something special happened, but simply because the child was there at that moment.

ヤマカワ

📷 OLYMPUS PEN E-P5

cizucu editorial team
We were drawn to the hazy light, which seems to soften even the hard paving stones. A broad white glow spreads across the ground, while tiny points of light dance on the water. The same komorebi takes on a different character depending on what it touches. As our eyes move between the two, we find ourselves letting go of every thought and simply basking in the brightness.

Final Thoughts

Through these photos of komorebi, we saw what each photographer found in familiar surroundings and the feelings they brought to those scenes. We hope you will keep photographing the moments that move you in everyday life. 

You can’t touch a photo.
And yet, when you look at a rough concrete wall, soft fabric, a rain-soaked road, or dry tree bark, you can sometimes imagine exactly how it would feel.

Fine ridges and grooves, reflected light, and different shades of shadow. Even surfaces we usually treat as part of the background reveal a character of their own when we move in closer.

So this time, we’re holding a hashtag challenge with #texture!

Share your photos with #texture

For #texture, don’t just look for the objects themselves—look for the textures on their surfaces.
Cracks in an old building, rusted metal, the veins of a leaf, footprints in the sand, or the knitted loops of a sweater. Take a closer look at the world around you, and you’ll begin to notice patterns and textures you may never have paid attention to before.

The direction of the light can also completely change how a texture looks.

Bumps and grooves that are hard to see under even, front-facing light can stand out when light comes from the side, creating tiny shadows that bring the surface into relief. Reflective materials such as wet roads, glass, and metal may even capture the weather and time of day.
Step back, and the same texture may appear as a repeating pattern. Move in close, and it may become so abstract that it is hard to tell what you photographed.

Architecture, nature, street photography, portraits, still life, or a shot from your travels—any genre is welcome.
Look for something that makes you imagine how it feels just by seeing it. Share the sense of touch you find in a photo with **#texture**.

cizucu runs hashtag campaigns and photo contests designed to inspire your photography. Sign up for the app and check out the latest content.

Photographers share the stories behind the cameras and lenses they love. The gear we reach for most often says a lot about how we see life and what matters to us. In this instalment, むめい tells us about the Hasselblad XCD 4/28P wide-angle lens.

While raising three children, むめい heads out for street photography whenever time allows. Everyday outings already mean carrying plenty of bags, but there is still the urge to bring along favourite camera gear whenever possible. At just 43.5mm long and 245g, the XCD 4/28P makes that much easier.

It combines the rich detail of medium format with a lightness that makes it easy to carry every day. We find out how the XCD 4/28P has brought more freedom to むめい’s photography.

Hasselblad XCD 4/28P: Key Specs

The XCD 4/28P is a wide-angle lens for the Hasselblad X System. Its 28mm focal length gives an angle of view equivalent to around 22mm on a 35mm camera. It measures just 43.5mm long and weighs 245g. Its optical design features nine elements in eight groups, including two aspherical elements and one extra-low-dispersion (ED) element.

A Lens I Can Take Anywhere

I’m raising three children, and I enjoy street photography whenever I can find the time.

Going out with children inevitably means carrying a lot of stuff. Even so, I want to bring my favourite camera gear whenever possible. The XCD 4/28P is the lightest and most compact lens in the Hasselblad X System, so it was an easy choice for me.

It is only 43.5mm long and weighs just 245g. It feels remarkably easy to carry for a lens designed for a 100-megapixel medium-format sensor, and it barely takes up any room in my camera bag.

When I choose my gear, performance is not the only thing that matters. I also need to ask myself whether I can realistically take it with me that day. Because my time for photography is limited, this light weight is more than just a number. It gives me one less reason to hesitate before heading out and keeps photography close to my everyday life.

A Wide View That Feels at Home on the Street

The 28mm focal length is equivalent to around 22mm on a 35mm camera. Although it is a medium-format lens, the setup stays compact when it is paired with the CFV 100C. Its angle of view feels naturally suited to the scenes I come across while walking through the city.

A wide-angle lens can fit a lot into the frame, but that also means deciding what to include. The atmosphere of the street, signs of people nearby, the lines of buildings and small discoveries at my feet—all of these can become part of the picture. I have to look at how those elements relate to one another and decide what caught my attention in the first place.

Autofocus is quick enough that I rarely miss a moment on the street. Rather than feeling tense about carrying a large medium-format camera, I can focus on observing what is in front of me. I really like the way it lets me work.

Subtle but Convincing Results

On paper, a maximum aperture of F4 might not sound especially exciting. But once you look through the viewfinder, it feels completely different.

Tonal transitions are rich, and even when I shoot into the light, sunstars and flare come through beautifully. Out-of-focus highlights are still soft when the lens is wide open. Rather than using a dramatic look to grab attention, its colour carefully conveys the light and hues that were really there. The results have a quiet confidence.

The lens has nine elements in eight groups. Its optical design includes two aspherical elements and one extra-low-dispersion (ED) element, giving it the resolving power required by a 100-megapixel sensor. But resolution alone is not why I’m drawn to this lens. It captures fine detail without losing the overall atmosphere of a photo, and it handles the light I find with a gentle touch.

Getting Closer to the Little Things

The minimum focusing distance is 22cm, so the lens also responds naturally when I suddenly want to capture a small detail I have noticed on a street corner.

It is not only for wide scenes. I can step closer and look at textures and shapes as well. Despite being a wide-angle lens, it gives me plenty of freedom to choose how close I want to be to my subject.

Finding the Frame on Foot

Unlike a zoom, a 28mm prime does not let me reframe freely from where I am standing. But that limitation gives me time to walk closer to a scene and decide for myself what belongs inside the frame.

The time I get to take photos between looking after my children is never very long. That makes it important to have gear that is easy to bring along, so I can think as I walk and photograph from the distance that feels right to me.

Before I knew it, the XCD 4/28P had become the lens I normally keep on my CFV 100C. Because it is light, I take it out. Because I take it out, I discover more scenes. Then, within that wide frame, I decide what I really want to keep.

What this little lens has given me is more than portability. It has brought medium format closer to everyday life, turning the camera from something reserved for special occasions into a companion I can walk with every day.

むめい

Hi, I’m むめい. I shoot street photography in Kanagawa and also take bookings for on-location photography.

cizucu: むめい
Instagram: @muna_to_mumei

photo poster project

photo poster project is a photo exhibition anyone can join simply by choosing a city and date.

But the project we call ppp is about more than displaying photos. It’s a welcoming community where anyone can feel comfortable sharing their story, as well as a chance to meet creators from around the world in person.

This time, we’re taking you inside the photo poster project held at 一格一隅 A Frame A Corner in Taipei, Taiwan, on September 5, 2026. If you’re thinking about joining an upcoming photo poster project elsewhere in the country, here’s a taste of what to expect.

This event also marked an important milestone for Taipei’s growing community, nearly a year after photo poster project first came to Taiwan in October 2025.

What is photo poster project?

Opportunities to show your photos and make friends with other photographers can be hard to come by. Putting on your own photo exhibition also takes a lot of time and money.

photo poster project, organised by cizucu, makes it much easier.
Simply choose a location and date, then post your photo on cizucu, and it will be displayed as a large A2 print. Plenty of photographers from the local area take part too, so you might even meet some new photography friends.

There’s no need to hire a venue, find a printer, or set up the exhibition yourself. Just fill in the form and come along to the event.

Scenes from the day

We live in an age when we can capture sharp, reliable images anywhere, at any time. Even so, the colours, grain and soft focus of old photos can still move us.

Perhaps this is about more than nostalgia. Now that photography has evolved from a tool for recording events into a way of shaping memories, deliberately choosing an imperfect image can prompt us to rethink our sense of time and our relationship with the world around us.

A beautiful photo is not always a memorable one

Smartphone cameras can brighten dark scenes, capture people’s expressions even in strong backlight and render the smallest details with astonishing accuracy. If you think of photography as a way to keep a flawless record, there is no better tool.
Yet when we look at old photos, sharpness is not necessarily what we want. Slightly faded skin tones, a washed-out sky or a faintly blurred outline can leave room to imagine what it felt like to be there.

A photo does more than reproduce reality accurately. What the photographer chooses to keep or leave out shapes the memory differently. That may be why photos with room for chance and imperfection feel so fresh today, when flawless images are everywhere.

Retro photography is not about recreating the past

As film cameras, older compact digital cameras and vintage lenses attract renewed attention, it is easy to focus on taking photos that look as though they came from another era. But treating “retro” as simply recreating the past can limit what makes photography so interesting.

What matters is that older equipment can bring a different sense of time into a present-day scene. A street photographed with the latest smartphone can feel very different from the same street shot through a lens with a few quirks, even though the reality in front of the camera has not changed.
Try photographing a familiar place as though you were visiting it for the first time. Notice the scratches on a sign, light reflected in a window or an umbrella someone has left behind. Look at familiar things as though you have never seen them before. That subtle sense of unfamiliarity can open the door to a new way of seeing through photography.

Are you preserving a scene—or your own moment in time?

When we think about what it means to take a photo, we realise that the scene is not the only thing being preserved. Even when photographing the same sunset, the emotions we bring to it as a teenager will differ from those we feel when we see it again years later. Every photo therefore holds two moments at once: the time in which the subject existed and our own experience of seeing it.

So rather than letting the retro revival lead us to ask only which equipment will create an old-fashioned look, it is worth asking what we want to preserve as a memory. You might print your photos and add the date, the location and a single line about what was on your mind at the time.

Photography is not only a way to preserve the past. It also asks us to consider how we see the present—and lets us pass that perspective on to our future selves.

Through interviews with individuals who pursue photographic expression through unique perspectives, we explore the origins of their creative practice, their philosophies, and their artistic processes, delivering new inspiration to photographers and photo media around the world.

In this issue, we speak with Los Angeles-based artist Taylor Galloway. His practice is centered around internal history and the ways the world can push and pull against reality and memory, bending both into new forms. Through these “10 Questions,” we explore the origins of his photography, the ideas that guide his work, and the quiet forces that shape his image-making.

Taylor Galloway

Taylor Galloway is a Los Angeles-based artist with a practice centered around one's internal history and the ways in which the world can push and pull against, bending reality and memory. Galloway's work has been exhibited nationally, internationally, and published in The New York Times. 'across the street from Heaven' is his first monograph.

Instagram : @taylortgalloway

Q1. Tell us about the origins of your photography and your current activities.

When my grandfather came to Florida for my first birthday, I followed him around the living room while he was using a camcorder. From an early age, I was encouraged to follow my curiosities wherever they might lead.

Q2. What are the most important elements or themes in your work?

Intuition, energy, staying afloat, low impulse, and listening.

Q3. How do your works come to life? We’d love to know what goes on behind the creative process — intuition, chance encounters, on-the-spot decisions.

I tend to want to get to know a place and spend a good amount of time letting it guide me. Sometimes that means waiting for a while for the picture to be made; other times, it is a simple reaction to a moment.

Q4. What drives you to keep creating?

The camera has been the key to helping me get out of my own way.

Q5. Please share one of your favorite shots. We’d also love to hear the story behind it and why you chose it.

This was made on the first trip to the Dye farm in Hartwood, VA, in 2015. These pictures would become 'across the street from Heaven,' my first monograph published by Deadbeat Club. It foreshadowed a lot of what I would become curious about and explore for the next decade.

Those hues of blue were something I had never seen in real life, and they stayed with me—experiencing something for the first time.
At that time, it had been a while since I felt this way; it helped me stay very present.

Q6. In the age of AI, what do you think photography means?

The Truth is Out There.

Q7. Within the US photography scene, what movements or communities do you feel are particularly significant?

Baltimore Photo Space, Silver Eye Photo Center, Strata Editions, Aurora Photo Center, Los Angeles Center for Photography, Las Fotos Project, The Fulcrum, and Leroy's Happy Place all support and uplift their communities.

Q8. Are there photographers or creative scenes from other countries that inspire or excite you?

I'm deeply inspired by my friends and family and anyone who stays on their path.

Q9. Tell us about something you would dedicate your life to pursuing.

Making pictures and spending time with my family.

Q10. What message would you like to share with creators around the world, from where you stand today?

Trust that you will be guided when you surrender to the world.

In September 2026, we visited the Jakarta International Photo Festival (JIPFest), held in Cikini, Central Jakarta. The festival brought together photography, film, archival material, collaborative projects and more.
Many of the projects explored issues facing society today, including memory, identity, gender, war, the environment and community.

But even when projects are brought together under one theme, they do not all address the same issues. Their meaning and urgency shift depending on the places and histories they come from, as well as the political and social circumstances surrounding each photographer. How far can a single word—“RESILIENCE”—go in connecting those differences?

Looking at the exhibitions we saw and the character of the venue itself, we consider what JIPFest reveals about where contemporary photography stands today.

Taman Ismail Marzuki: The Festival’s Home

Jakarta International Photo Festival (JIPFest) is an international photography festival founded in 2019. Its organiser, PannaFoto Institute, has a long history of photography education and cultural programmes in Indonesia. Alongside exhibitions, the festival hosts artist talks, workshops, portfolio reviews, screenings, lectures and discussions. It is not simply a place to view finished projects: photographers can speak about their work, participants can exchange ideas, and new exhibitions and collaborations can take shape.

The 2026 festival ran from 11 to 20 September. Its venue, Taman Ismail Marzuki, opened in 1968 and is one of Jakarta’s leading arts and cultural centres. The complex includes theatres, galleries, a library, archives, a planetarium and an arts university. Over the years, it has hosted programmes spanning visual art, theatre, film, music, literature and science.

The exhibition unfolded across three large galleries, with visitors moving through the building to see each one. One gallery was devoted to local practices from Indonesia. The chance to view international projects alongside photography rooted in the host country is one of JIPFest’s defining features.
Over its ten-day run, photographers, curators and visitors came together and interacted face to face through exhibitions and talks.

What Did “RESILIENCE” Mean Here?

The 2026 theme was “RESILIENCE.” Curators Chelsea Chua and Yoppy Pieter saw the word as encompassing more than recovery from crisis. For them, it also meant preserving memory and culture, continuing to care for others, and responding to environmental and social change.

The open call received 408 submissions from photographers in 58 countries. Together with projects invited by the curators, 22 photography and multimedia projects from 17 countries were selected.

Here, “RESILIENCE” took the form of specific lived experiences: returning to a homeland, losing a home, taking part in traditions from which people have historically been excluded, and protecting one’s faith.

Three Ways Into the Exhibition

Here, we look at part of the exhibition through three themes: identity, gender and the Global South. The projects below were not chosen to represent each theme as a whole. Instead, they offer specific examples of the questions raised throughout the festival.

1. Identity | Memories Held in Homes and Objects

Yuki Furusawa’s Bye Bye Home Sweet Home, for example, documents the photographer’s grandmother’s house before it was demolished for urban redevelopment. Inside were belongings that had gone unused for years, including clothes Furusawa’s mother had worn as a child and suits that belonged to the photographer’s late grandfather. As the family began clearing out the house, Furusawa’s grandmother started sharing the stories behind each object. This prompted Furusawa to photograph the house and its contents.

The project shows how identity is shaped not only by faces and bodies, but also by the things a family has chosen to keep, the rooms they have lived in for years, and the memories passed down through the family.

2. Gender | Who Gets to Take Part in Tradition?

One example is Chantal Pinzi’s Farīsāt: Gunpowder’s Daughters, which follows women riders taking part in the Moroccan equestrian tradition of Tbourida. Dating back to the 16th century, the performance has long been passed down primarily among men. The women pay their own way, covering the costs of horses, clothing and gunpowder permits.

Rather than presenting an abstract image of “female strength,” the project draws attention to a specific reality: who is recognised as a bearer of tradition, and who must take on additional burdens simply to participate?

3. The Global South | Where Distinct Local Experiences Meet

JIPFest featured many photographers from Southeast Asia, South Asia, the Middle East, South America and beyond. Among them, Ahmed Alaqra’s How to Fabricate a Memory? begins with a return to Palestine after a long absence—and the sense of distance the photographer felt from his homeland.

Gui Christ’s M’kumba, meanwhile, is an ongoing record of Afro-Brazilian religious practices and the communities working to preserve them.
Rather than folding these projects into a single “Global South story,” JIPFest brings photography from different places together in Jakarta, giving visitors the chance to compare them and understand the differences between their local experiences.

Participating Photographers

• Ahmed Alaqra — Palestine
• Artem Humilevskyi — Ukraine
• Chantal Pinzi — Italy
• Duy-Phuong Le Nguyen — Vietnam
• Federico Estol — Uruguay
• Gabriel Barreto Bentin — Peru
• Gui Christ — Brazil
• Jake Homovich — USA
• Juliana Tan — Singapore
• Karl Mancini — Italy
• Kunga Tashi Lepcha — India
• Liss Fenwick — Australia
• Min Ma Naing — Myanmar
• Natthaya Thaidecha — Thailand
• Nicola Muirhead — Bermuda
• Nopri Ismi — Indonesia
• Ore Huiying — Singapore
• Ryan Andrew — Indonesia
• Santiago Escobar-Jaramillo — Colombia
• Swastik Pal — India
• Tace Stevens — Australia
• Yuki Furusawa — Japan

These are only some of the 22 projects in the exhibition. By bringing photography made in different places together in Jakarta, the festival allowed each project to serve as a starting point for learning about the history and social conditions of the place behind it.

The selection and its arrangement suggested a perspective centred not on viewing the world through Europe and North America, but on looking outward from Indonesia at photography from across Asia and other regions. That is what makes this festival so compelling.

When you’ve been taking photos for a while, there are moments when you stop and wonder what kind of photography you really like.

It may be easy to talk about the gear you prefer, but putting into words what truly moves you can be surprisingly difficult.
At the beginning of this year, I decided to try an experiment: shooting black-and-white portraits for an entire year.
Six months in, I’ve gradually started to understand the kinds of photos I’m drawn to.

Here, I’ll share what shooting black-and-white portraits has taught me about what I want to photograph, and how choosing a theme can help you take a fresh look at your own photography.

I wanted to capture gestures, not expressions

The first thing I realised was that I’m more drawn to someone’s natural gestures than to a set pose.

Fixing their hair in front of a mirror.
Resting their chin on one hand while lost in thought.
Letting their gaze drop for a moment.

These small, everyday movements naturally reveal a person’s habits and something of the life they lead.

Whenever I looked back through my photos, the ones that stayed with me were those that captured moments like these.
I realised I was less drawn to photos that were simply well executed than to those that revealed something true to the person.

Less information leaves more room for imagination

When people think of black-and-white photography, many picture bold whites, deep blacks, and strong contrast.

But that isn’t quite what I’m drawn to.

I like tones that shift gradually from white to black.
I like the ambiguity of a boundary between the person and the background that you can almost make out, but never quite clearly.

Removing colour also removes information.
But in its place, there’s room for the viewer to wonder, “What kind of place is this?” or “What time of day could it be?”

For me, there’s a beauty in how black and white doesn’t explain too much.

Ambiguous, yet full of presence

What’s strange is that even with less information, the person can feel more present.
It’s less about a sense of depth and more about feeling as though the photo has captured the atmosphere around that person in that place.
The finer details may be stripped away, but the simple fact that they were there still comes through clearly.

I love this apparent contradiction.
Perhaps black and white has a way of bringing the subject’s presence to the forefront.

Taking photos may also be a way to understand yourself

After six months of shooting portraits exclusively in black and white, I’ve come to feel that photography isn’t only about deciding what to photograph. It’s also a way to learn what draws you in.

I discovered that elaborate staging wasn’t what interested me.

Small, natural gestures.
Ambiguous boundaries.
Breathing room that doesn’t explain too much.
The sense that this person was really there.
And recording not only the person, but the environment around them as well.

Finding words for these qualities has given me a much clearer idea of the kinds of photos I want to take from here on.

If you’re unsure about the direction of your photography, I recommend choosing one theme and sticking with it for a while. Beyond improving your technique, it can help you see what truly matters to you.

A photo reveals not only its subject, but also what moved the person behind the camera.
That may be why continuing to take photos can gradually teach us more about our own values.