The work is part of Natalie Czech’s Poems by Repetition series, in which the artist recreates poems by well-known twentieth-century authors by highlighting or hiding prose on printed ephemera and consumer goods—from iPads and magazine articles to album covers and overdrive pedals.

Yto Barrada made Papiers Pliés by collecting the recycled paper wrappings used by vendors of snack foods—chickpeas, peanuts, sunflower seeds—in Perdicaris Park in Tangier, Morocco, then folding the detritus into geometric forms and photographing it. The printed French words taille (size) and expédition (shipment) indicate the sheets’ original function as forms from a textile factory and allude to Morocco’s past as a French colony (1912–56).

Ulla Jokisalo uses found photographs—from popular magazines, vintage family albums, and other sources—as the points of departure for her carefully handcrafted assemblages. She then sews, manipulates, and otherwise fashions dimensional compositions that unite her personal memories and associations with a surreal world of fairy tale figures and gender-redefined creatures. The title of this work is a reference to T. S. Eliot’s iconic poem “The Waste Land” (1922), in which a large cast of narrators continually upends our sense of reality.

While pursuing an artistic career in Paris, Carolle Bénitah rediscovered family albums from her Moroccan childhood and began to reinterpret the images they contained. She selected, scanned, and made new prints of the original photographs, then embroidered patterns into them with bright red thread. The source photograph for Le déguisement was taken on the Jewish holiday Purim, when costumes are often worn. Bénitah echoed this tradition by stitching veils over each child’s face and allowing loose ends to pool at the bottom of the frame.

In this two-part piece, Barbara Probst embraces multiple perspectives of a single moment. Each image is integrated into the narrative of the other while simultaneously unraveling it. In one photograph, the protagonist appears to be running from the camera, perhaps playfully; the aerial image of her on a rooftop, however, suggests more ominous surveillance. Probst reveals her process by regularly including her camera and tripod in her work, their presence either confirming the truth of the image or breaking it down.

Sigrid Viir produced this diptych for a solo exhibition in which she performed the act of creating a body of work. Twelve pairs of photographs represented the duration of the exhibition, with accent colors (pink, in the case of Day 1) corresponding to paint she applied to a sculptural object and pedestal in the gallery each day. Folding and manipulating her own self-portrait, Viir comments on the artist’s compulsion to replicate a style or self in relation to art world demands.

Uta Barth created this series while traveling in unfamiliar cities, hurrying along, often finding herself lost. She became interested in the things she noticed out of the corner of her eye, which caused her to “double take.” These two works depict the Tate Modern in London while the museum was under construction in 2000. As viewers shift their eyes from one point of scrutiny to the next, the image they have just been looking at—bits of reflected light—moves into the periphery.

In this series, Josephine Pryde shows young women’s hands in close encounters with their bodies, screens, or other objects that serve to define them. Her cropped compositions create pitched tableaux that skew ironic and inscrutable, while her use of the vertical phone-camera format mirrors contemporary methods of photography and display. Frozen in time, the women’s unselfconscious gestures seem stylized, pointing toward the selfhood we seldom acknowledge while continually gazing into the world of our smartphones.

To make Red Swimmer and other works in this series, Boo Ritson applied brightly colored house paint directly on the faces and bodies of her sitters, transforming them into characters loosely based on American stereotypes. She then asked photographer Andy Crawford to capture these painting-sculpture-performance hybrids before the paint dried. As Ritson explains, “I'm not a photographer; I'm an artist who uses photography. In its raw state, my work can only be seen by me and the people I work with, so photography is essential. I can't show my work without it.”

Shirana Shahbazi makes photographs in traditionally European styles and genres—including still life, landscape, and, in this case, portraiture—questioning hierarchies and sometimes translating her images into different mediums. In Farsh132006, a photograph of a young woman’s head, reminiscent of Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring (c. 1665), has been made into a hand-knotted carpet by artisans in Shahbazi’s native Iran. These multiple incarnations encourage us to consider the various ways signs can be rearranged and recycled today.