We are thrilled to announce the 2026 Foam Talent selection, representing the new wave of image-makers shaping the future of photography.
Repost from @foam_amsterdam
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For this edition 30 artists have been selected from nearly 3,000 submissions across 107 countries, showing a remarkable range of narratives, perspectives, and artistic approaches.
We’ve expanded the Foam Talent platform to include a wider spectrum of emerging artists from across the globe. Alongside the 15 artists that are selected for the full Foam Talent 2026 programme, an additional 15 emerging artists will be recognised under a newly introduced category: Foam Talent Runners-up. Together, these 30 artists point towards new directions in photography.
The Foam Talents will be presented across multiple Foam platforms, including Foam Magazine and an exhibition at Foam’s museum from 6 June until 26 August 2026.
Foam Talents 2026:
Sara De Brito Faustino (@colddaily )
Ramona Jingru Wang (@ramonadai )
Adam Rouhana (@adam.rouhana )
Farren van Wyk (@farrenvwyk )
Liubov Durakova (@liubovdurakova )
Alvin Ng (@alvinnzh )
Nazanin Hafez (@nazanin_hafez_ )
Nad E Ali (@nadealy )
Sean Cham (@seancham )
Ali Monis Naqvi (@alimonisnaqvi )
Ammar Yassir (@ammar._yassir )
Daniel Mebarek (@daniel.mebarek )
Sasha Velichko (@areyoushure_ )
Paola Jimenez (@paojq )
Yiding Chen (@yidinger_c )
Runners-up 2026:
Bruce Eesly (@bruceeesly )
Fatemeh Rezaei (@fatemehrezaei.me )
Varvara Uhlik (@varavarka )
Harlan Bozeman (@harlanbozeman )
Radha Rathi (@radharathistudio )
Manuel Bayo Gisbert (@manuelbayogisbert )
Byron Mohammad Hamzah (@byronhamzah )
Hady Barry (@hady__barry )
Fidelio Faustino (@fideliofaustino )
Aubin Mukoni (@aubinmukoni )
J.A. Young (@_ja_youn_g )
Rayane Jemaa (@rayrafjem jem)
Jenna Garrett (@particulr )
Mahmoud Abu Hamda (@mahmoudhamda )
Ali Zaraay (@alizaraay )
The biannual Foam Talent programme and the Talent Issue of Foam Magazine are supported by the long-standing Foam Talent partner Deutsche Börse Photography Foundation and @vandenendefoundation .
Read more in the press release via the link in bio.
#Repost @thecaravanmagazine with @let.repost
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Pakistani photographer Nad-e-Ali’s ongoing photo series “The Other Horses,” documents Lahore’s annual Shabih-e-Zuljinah processions. Held during the month of Muharram, the Shia mourning processions commemorate the death of Hussain ibn Ali, a grandson of the prophet Muhammad, in the seventh-century Battle of Karbala. The Shia–Sunni rift, which dates back to the death of Muhammad, in 632, is said to have intensified after the battle. The horses at these processions, called the Zuljinahs, represent Murtajiz, the loyal stallion that Hussain rode into battle. Legend has it that Murtajiz refused to leave his master’s side after his death, only to return to camp, covered in blood, to deliver the news of the killing.
Each year, on the ninth day of Muharram, several Shabih-e-Zuljinah processions begin in Lahore, as well as in other parts of South Asia. They end the next day, with the commemoration of Ashura. Thousands participate in these processions, wailing and beating themselves in mourning, while clearing the path for the Zuljinah to peacefully pass. A number of horses play the role of Zuljinah and complete the journey in relays. In the above photo from 2018, Nad captures a head mask for a Zuljinah at Haveli Bilo Shah. The mask is adorned with a mirror in the center. The fish figurines that hang from the headdress represent water and freedom of movement.
Click the link in the bio to view Nad’s (@nadealy ) photo essay “March Past,” and read more about the processions. Written by Utkarsh (@sick_flux
It is with great pleasure that we announce the release of our third zine, Udikan (اُڈیکاں).
“We had just been given the honour of being scribes.
We didn’t have the stomach for it — yet.
Time is, well... so human.”
Featuring contributions from Nad E Ali, Akshay Mahajan, and Zeerak Suhail, alongside the poem “The Noble Recorders” by Joshua Muyiwa, this issue sits with the ache of waiting, the longing held in bodies, borders, and the spaces between languages.
Limited copies are available, so don’t wait to get your hands on one.
Available in two editions: a larger format measuring 5.5 × 7.5 inches, and a pocket-sized edition measuring approximately 3.75 × 5.5 inches. Each copy is staple bound, printed on uncoated paper, and features full colour throughout. A special print accompanies select copies while supplies last.
Special thanks to Hassam Khattak for their contributions toward this issue.
Edited by @nadealy and @zeeraksuhail .
DM to order or inquire about pricing.
@lecercle@silverbangled@zeeraksuhail@nadealy@hassamkt
Few of the last post if this editorial series inspired by the lyrical world of Rasul Mir:
“Roshe chhum yaar myaane chaani chaani,
chhum dilas chu sukh-e be-sabaati…”
“My beloved appears to me in fleeting fragments of light,
and the heart finds no rest in this fragile stillness.”
— Attributed to Rasul Mir, Kashmiri poetic tradition (Kulliyat-e-Rasul Mir / oral & manuscript transmission)
Some editorial shots for @dyot.pk@dyotstudio@_mehruuuu_
“Even if I wander through endless winters,
my heart still carries the fragrance of your name.”
— Rasul Mir, Kashmiri poet
Meaning of Melas in Punjab & Mela Chiraghan
Before they became “events,” melas in Punjab were living cities of gathering.
They were spaces where trade and tenderness moved together where farmers, artisans, travellers, faqirs, and families arrived not only to exchange goods, but to exchange stories, rumours, songs, griefs, and blessings. Here, time slowed into storytelling. Dastan-goi unfolded in open air. New relationships were formed without formality rishtas made in dust, music, and shared food.
These gatherings were never bound by a single faith or identity. People of different religions stood in the same circles of laughter and waiting. The mela was a commons before the word became modern.
With the arrival of Sufi traditions, these spaces deepened into something more porous. The idea of devotion began to merge with celebration, and celebration with remembrance. Saints and poets turned gathering into a spiritual architecture where the crowd itself became a form of prayer.
In Lahore, this lineage found one of its most powerful expressions in Mela Chiraghan once among the largest public gatherings of devotion, memory, and music. A space where the shrine, the city, and the river of people all became part of the same unfolding rhythm.
Even now, what remains is not only history—but the memory of gathering itself.
