Born 1971 in Jerusalem, Israel, Elinor Carucci graduated in 1995 from Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design with a degree in photography, and moved to New York that same year. In a relatively short amount of time, her work has been included in an impressive amount of solo and group exhibitions worldwide, solo shows include Edwynn Houk gallery, Fifty One Fine Art Gallery, James Hyman and Gagosian Gallery, London among others and group show include The Museum of Modern Art New York and The Photographers' Gallery, London.
Her photographs are included in the collections of The Museum of Modern Art New York, the Brooklyn Museum of Art, Houston Museum of Fine Art, among others and her work appeared in The New York Times Magazine, The New Yorker, Details, New York Magazine, W, Aperture, ARTnews and many more publications.
She was awarded the International Center of Photography’s Infinity Award for Young Photographer in 2001, The Guggenheim Fellowship in 2002 and NYFA in 2010. Carucci has published two monographs to date, Closer, Chronicle Books 2002 and Diary of a Dancer, SteidlMack 2005. Carucci currently teaches at the graduate program of photography at School of Visual Arts and is represented by INSTITUTE artist management.
In winter of 2013/2014 Prestel Publishing will publish her third monograph, MOTHER, that will show 9 years of her motherhood project. A show of this work will be exhibited at Edwynn Houk Gallery in NYC in March, 2014.
One of the most fascinating internet phenomenons of 2017 was the commotion, and high-test handwringing, around "Cat Person," a short story by Kristen Roupenian published in the New Yorker earlier this month. Depicting a series of bad dates and bad sex between a young woman and an older man, the details in the piece of fiction felt—especially in the context of the public discussion of power dynamics between men and women today—like a very real gut-punch. As much conversation and sub-conversation as Roupenian's story generated, there was almost as much talk about the photograph commissioned to illustrate the story.
It’s unusual for a short story to generate the kind of online commotion created by Kristen Roupenian’s “Cat Person,” which appeared in the magazine last week. Nearly every woman I spoke with about it found Roupenian’s detailed articulation of a strange and terrible sexual bargaining—is it easier (or safer) for me to just let this happen, rather than to try and stop it?—queasily familiar. “There is no doubt fiction makes a better job of the truth,” Doris Lessing wrote, in 1949, in the first volume of her autobiography. For many readers, “Cat Person” felt not just true but revelatory. It was a kind of unburdening—a suggestion that, perhaps, the uneasy internal monologues we deliver to ourselves during our most vulnerable and confusing moments are, in fact, shared.
Last week, a piece of short fiction—written by Kristen Roupenian and published by The New Yorker—went viral. Titled “Cat Person,” the story centers on a series of encounters between a 20-year-old woman and 34-year-old man who meet at a movie theater, go on a couple of unsettling dates, and have startlingly bad sex. Fiction very rarely builds the kind of fiery momentum that “Cat Person” experienced after its publication, but the story struck a chord with readers of all genders across the US: at its core, “Cat Person” articulates common feelings of confusion, ambivalence, and (tellingly) fear that often define the contemporary female experience of sex.
When Elinor Carucci is behind the camera, the distinction between public and private moments disappears. For more than two decades, Carucci has offered an unflinching look into her personal life as she left her family in Jerusalem, moved to New York City, and raised a family of her own. Carucci’s work has been celebrated for its transformation of the oft-overlooked details of everyday life into compelling expressions of emotion and intimacy.
The story of Evan, a trans man who gave birth. My Brother's Pregnancy and the Making of a New American Family, September 2016. Evan’s journey to parenthood was chronicled by his sister, the writer Jessi Hempel. Hempel writes about the growing number of transgender Americans who are founding families as well as the challenges they can sometimes face.
The new exhibition “Period.” includes bra sculptures and mesmerizing photographs of menstrual blood — and it may make some viewers uncomfortable.
For co-gallerists Eira Rojas and Aimee Rubenstein, the curatorial process always starts with the topics that animate their everyday conversations with friends. "I am constantly talking about my period," Eira says. "But only to a select group of individuals." These daily dialogues develop quickly into politically charged and provocative exhibitions at Miami's Rojas + Rubensteen Projects, the gallery the duo founded in October 2016. The last two shows at the space focused on the relationship between freedom and control in American politics and Islamophobia.
We asked Israeli-American photographer Elinor Carucci, whose book, Mother, chronicled her pregnancy and her relationship with her twins, to delve into the power of photography.
A faculty member of the graduate program at the School of Visual Arts with work held in permanent collections of museums across the world, Carucci says she’s looking for universality in her own work. “I am looking to go deeper,” she tells TIME. “Beyond the façade of what we see into I guess the core of who we are.”
TIME asked 12 photographers who’ve dedicated themselves to making extensive work about their families to reflect on their experiences with their mothers—and to describe which of their own photographs moved them most.
Elinor Carucci discusses her monograph Mother with Juliana Halpert for Stories by Daylight
Elinor Carucci discusses her work in advance of her upcoming retrospective exhibition at Musrara, The Naggar School of Art in Jerusalem opening January 1, 2016.