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The artist braved the freezing Pennines to cast a Romantic painting in a bold new light, while her restaging of Manet’s Olympia is wonderfully subversive

A woman stands majestically on a rocky, icy precipice; she looks out at a vast frosty tract, covered in thick, flawless snow. Her back is turned to us, the mood is contemplative. She surveys her domain, straight-backed, black hair licking the back of her neck.

It’s a photograph by the UK-based Chinese artist Yan Wang Preston . But there is another version of this image, a famous Romantic painting by the German artist Caspar David Friedrich. It is titled Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog , made circa 1817. In that work, a clothed, flame-haired male Rückenfigur (a person seen from behind) stands on a jagged ridge and gazes out over a foggy landscape; the painting is the epitome of 19th century liberalism and romanticism, the lone figure in the rugged landscape contemplating his place in the world.

Nine photojournalists from across the US tell the stories behind their most powerful shots, as pro-Palestinian protesters face police crackdowns

As protests in support of Palestine sweep university campuses across the US, student journalists from New York to Texas have documented the reality inside the encampments. They have risen to the occasion, capturing the quiet moments, the celebratory elements, the tense scenes and the violent police arrests.

We asked nine photographers – who have been covering the demonstrations at Columbia, Berkeley, the University of Texas and beyond – to tell the stories behind their most powerful photos.

Once dismissed as a lesser art form, the still life has been reinvented as a radical form of expression, as a thrilling new show makes clear

Still life is the lowest form of art. So declared the French Academy when it established its Hierarchy of Genres in the 17th century. Historical scenes and portraiture were the noblest genres, whereas landscapes and still lifes were considered lowly. According to the art institute, biblical frescoes required a higher level of mastery; an inanimate fruit bowl, or a bunch of wilting flowers? Anybody could paint those.

This categorisation shaped the perception of still life as a marginal genre. Four centuries on, the discourse has pivoted. “The careful and meticulous depiction of objects has always been an element of art, but generally this was something you saw in the backdrop of a religious scene or a portrait,” says Melanie Vandenbrouck, chief curator at Pallant House Gallery in Chichester. This month, the Chichester museum will present a comprehensive survey of around 150 still lifes made in Britain. Chronologically charting its development, the exhibition presents it as a fundamental genre of British art, one that has historically grappled with the universal human experiences of love and grief, but also provided a radical commentary on gender inequality, the climate crisis and war.

Photographers talk us through the images – from confused parents to topless lovers – that wowed the judges for this year’s prize

‘I have photographed fathers and sons holding hands from Bulgaria to Armenia and beyond. I approached these two as a stranger – and had just seconds before it got too awkward’

A few years ago, while walking my sons to school, I found myself thinking that, although I held their hands daily, one day they wouldn’t need me alongside them, that we would lose that sense of physical closeness. I decided to photograph my own father and grandfather holding hands – but it was the start of the pandemic, my grandfather was 95 and we wanted to keep him safe. We couldn’t meet for over a year.

In the meantime, while walking around Bulgaria’s capital Sofia, where I live, I stopped to photograph a house that caught my eye and a woman came out pushing a man in a wheelchair. I assumed they were going to chase me away, but instead she showed me a framed picture of a young man, aged about 30. She said he was their only son and he had died eight months before. She asked if I would photograph her husband with the portrait.

The Guardian’s picture editors select photographs from around the world

To celebrate two decades of images captured by its team of photographers – Simon Gill, Colin McPherson and Paul Thompson - the independent, and self-proclaimed half decent football magazine, When Saturday Comes, has published a photobook entitled At The Match . The photography captures the jubilation and despair of the ritual of attending games in the UK and Ireland

The Magnum photographer’s social media feed combines superb old images with modern reflections – on Brexit, bum thermometers and radical coffee shops

Photographer Darlyne Komukama and her friends set up a roving hair salon for Black women to ‘convene, connect and converse’

This photo was taken as part of an art project called the Salooni that I created with three other Ugandan women: Kampire Bahana, Aida Holly-Nambi and Gloria Wavamunno.

The Salooni explores the idea of Black hair practices as systems of knowledge through which culture and survivalist strategies are passed from generation to generation.