Anna Anderson on Vogue:
The very last shot I happened to take that day—before the sunlight seen coming through the window disappeared—was a candid from the hallway, of Anna leaning against the bed in the clutter of her room, checking the messages on her phone. It just seemed to marry perfectly with who she is—or at the very least, how I saw her. At the risk of sounding self-indulgent, as simple as it may be, to me it’s a shot that’s both classic and contemporary; it seemingly defines her—for that particular moment in her life anyway. Everything she is and everything she owns (albeit unintentionally) is on display there to be seen; everything from her idol on the wall, to what skincare products she uses, to every stitch of her clothing, both clean and dirty, all her possessions, the personalization of her space, her taste, her interests, her age, her apathy…even aside from the visual element of her being tethered to the social network, it’s still youth at its proverbial best: the accidental combination of vulnerability and exhibitionism.