Samurai wearing hon iyozane dō, 1870
In the 1800s, the life of a samurai was caught in a vortex of transformation, as the rigid, stratified structures of feudal Japan began to quiver under the pressures of encroaching modernity. These were not merely warriors; they were the living embodiments of bushido—the way of the warrior—a code that dictated every aspect of their existence with iron-clad rigor. Yet, as the century waned, so too did the relevance of their martial prowess, rendered increasingly obsolete by the cannons and rifles of Western powers.
The arrival of Commodore Perry in 1853 and the subsequent opening of Japan shattered the cloistered peace in which these warriors had operated. Samurai found themselves grappling with a rapidly changing world, one where their skills seemed anachronistic in the face of modern warfare and industrial progress. By the time the Meiji Restoration of 1868 redefined the Japanese social order, these warriors were transitioning from battlefield icons to bureaucrats and entrepreneurs in a society that no longer had a place for their traditional role. This period was not just a military or economic upheaval, but a profound identity crisis for the samurai, whose very essence was bound up in a feudal past that was being unceremoniously swept away.
Carrie Amelia Nation, a radical member of the temperance movement
When Carry Nation stepped foot into the Kiowa, Kansas bar, nobody saw what was coming. The woman, dressed in black, was on a mission from God. But as soon as she entered the saloon, all hell broke loose. She ran behind the bar, smashed the mirror and all the bottles under it; threw the cash register, threw it down; then broke the faucets of the refrigerator and cut the rubber tubes that conducted the beer. She was arrested soon after, but she didn’t mind. The bar had just gotten the Carry Nation treatment. During her years as an anti-alcohol advocate in the late 19th century, Nation built a reputation as a fearless, even unhinged reformer who would go to any length to save people from drunkenness.
The bombing of Nagasaki, Japan. August 9, 1945
On that morning, the world split open, not with a whisper but a cataclysmic roar that bent reality itself. In Nagasaki, time stopped; watches halted at the exact moment the sky turned a blinding white. Shadows burned into stone, remnants of lives that seconds before laughed, argued, dreamed. Beneath the mushroom cloud’s ominous bloom, the city lay in silent testament to the sudden, absolute loneliness that follows apocalypse. The air tasted of scorched earth and ash, a bitter reminder of transience. In this haunted stillness, survivors moved like ghosts through landscapes turned alien, guided by the faint, almost mythical hope of finding familiarity amid the surreal desolation. Here, the boundaries blurred—not just the edges of charred buildings or the fading lines between night and day, but the very barriers between life and death, past and future, despair and survival.
Eva Braun doing yoga by the lake Königssee, Bavaria, 1942
Seth Kinman, a hunter, entertainer, and one of the earliest settlers of Humboldt County, California, sitting on a chair he gave to President Johnson made out of a grizzly bear. 1865
A young woman of the Ouled Naïl tribe, Algeria, circa 1905
Historically, the Ouled Naïl have a semi-nomadic lifestyle, with economic activities centered around agriculture and livestock herding. They are particularly famous for their traditional dance, performed by women known as “bou saâdias” or “Nailiyat.” This dance is a part of their unique cultural identity and is often performed to earn a livelihood.
Culturally, Ouled Naïl women are known for their elaborate and distinctive dress, which includes heavily embroidered garments and unique jewelry, indicative of their status and wealth. These traditional costumes often feature vibrant colors and complex patterns, reflecting a rich tribal heritage.
The society of the Ouled Naïl is also notable for its matrilineal aspects, where women can hold significant social and economic influence. This is particularly visible in their traditional marriage customs and family structures, where women’s economic contributions through dance and other means are crucial.
German loot stored at Schlosskirche Ellingen, Bavaria (April 1945)
In this relentless sweep across Europe during the Second World War, the Nazis didn’t just leave a trail of death and destruction; they perpetrated one of the largest, most systematic plunders of cultural treasures in history.
This wasn’t mere looting—it was an orchestrated pillage conducted with the cold efficiency of a factory assembly line. Priceless paintings, sculptures, and artifacts were torn from their rightful places, echoing the human tragedies unfolding in parallel.
Each stolen piece was a stab at the cultural heart of a people, a brutal attempt to rewrite history and erase identities.
This dark endeavor, chilling in its precision, sought not only to enrich the Third Reich but to rob entire civilizations of their heritage, leaving scars that are still visible in the cultural landscapes of Europe today.
Christmas packages destined for soldiers who have been killed or reported missing in action await “return to sender” stamps. New York City, 1944
Saluting the flag at the Whittier Primary School, Hampton, VA. 1899 (Bellamy Salute)
The Bellamy Salute, once a common gesture in American schools, now serves as a peculiar footnote in the nation’s history. Introduced alongside the Pledge of Allegiance by Francis Bellamy in 1892, the salute involved extending the arm outward toward the flag as a symbol of respect and fealty.
However, as the 1930s unfolded and the world witnessed the rise of fascist regimes in Europe, which adopted strikingly similar salutes, the innocuous gesture adopted a more sinister resonance.
By 1942, amid the throes of World War II, the United States Congress recognized the uncomfortable implications and moved to replace the Bellamy Salute with the hand-over-heart gesture that is familiar today, thus disentangling the pledge from the visual rhetoric of fascism and reaffirming a gesture suited to the nation’s ideals.
A Chinese immigrant family in Oregon, 1890s
In the 1890s, a Chinese immigrant family in Oregon would find themselves navigating the rough waters of hope and hostility, their dreams of prosperity often clouded by the fog of exclusion. Arriving in a place so far from their ancestral lands, these families sought to carve out a space where they could flourish, despite the steep barriers erected by both law and prejudice. They clustered in tight-knit communities, perhaps a block or two of Oregon’s burgeoning towns, where the familiar sounds of Cantonese or Hakka filled the air, and the scents of star anise and ginger wafted from kitchens and small eateries.
Men often found work on the railroads or in the mines, grappling with backbreaking toil for meager wages, while women might work as seamstresses or in laundry services, their nimble fingers working tirelessly to support their families. The Exclusion Act of 1882 loomed large, a legislative shadow that stifled opportunities and fomented a cultural isolation that was palpable. Yet, within their communities, life thrummed with vitality. Markets brimmed with the produce and potions of the old country, and the New Year festivities painted the streets in reds and golds, dragon dances weaving through the throngs of children who watched with wide-eyed wonder, momentarily oblivious to the harsh realities their parents faced.
In these enclaves, the older generation clung to tradition, while the young were pulled by the currents of a new world, a tension that tugged at the fabric of family life. Education was a coveted ladder to a better life, but one that was often out of reach, leaving many to tread the path of their forebears in manual labor. Yet, despite the adversity, these immigrant families planted seeds of cultural richness and resilience that would, in time, find root in the very soil that once seemed so unwelcoming.
Juvenile Chain-Gang convicts at work in the fields – 1903
In the early 1900s, juvenile chain gangs were a grim testament to a society grappling with its burgeoning notions of crime and punishment. These chain gangs were composed of young offenders, shackled together like ancient war captives, forced to labor on public works projects as a form of retribution and reform. The clinking of their chains became a chilling symphony that played across the sun-baked roads and burgeoning infrastructures of an America in the throes of industrial transformation. This stark method of juvenile correction was underpinned by a belief that hard labor and public humiliation could purge the impulses that led to delinquency.
It was a harsh spectacle of discipline that stripped away the veneer of childhood innocence, exposing these young souls to the brute realities of adult consequences. Their small hands, not yet fully formed, were expected to handle the tools and burdens of grown men. The sight of children, their youthful faces etched with the fatigue of forced labor, became a polarizing image in the public eye. It ignited debates among reformers, who argued vehemently about the morality and efficacy of chaining children together like livestock. This era, with its harsh practices and stark images, laid the groundwork for eventual reforms in the juvenile justice system, as society began to reconsider the implications of punitive measures that seemed more medieval than modern
Annie Edson Taylor and her cat, pose with the barrel she went over Niagara Falls in, 1901.
Vladimir Putin at the age of 5 with Maria Ivanova. Russian SFSR, Soviet Union. July, 1958
Born on October 7, 1952, to a working-class family, Putin’s childhood was marked by the austere realities of life in a crowded communal apartment shared with multiple families. His parents, Vladimir Spiridonovich and Maria Ivanovna, had survived the brutal Siege of Leningrad during World War II, and their resilience in the face of hardship undoubtedly influenced the young Putin.
He grew up in a city steeped in Russian pride and military heroism, attending School No. 193, where he began to show early inklings of his future leadership style: disciplined, quietly assertive, and undeniably ambitious. A keen interest in sports, particularly judo and sambo, taught him the strategic and tactical thinking that would later define his political maneuvers. From these modest beginnings, Putin’s trajectory was set towards the intelligence services, a path that would eventually lead him to the highest echelons of power.
Five “Taxi Girls” wait for customers at a Parisian nightclub, 1920s. One of the women hides her face with her hands
In the 1920s, Parisian nightlife was infused with the glamour and liberation of the Jazz Age, and among its many colorful figures were the “Taxi Girls.” These young women, employed by dance halls, were so named because, like taxis, they were available for hire by the dance—a practice highlighted by the tokens men would purchase to claim a dance.