'You Won't Be With Me Tomorrow' is a sequel to the narrative Harvey Benge developed in his 2013 book, 'Some Things You Should Have Told Me'. Both deal with the pain of relationship, the seeming inevitability of separation and the mistrust that is its consequence. Women drift, lost and hostile, throughout the pages - they're masked or veiled; they stare from behind bars - sometimes metal, sometimes frail as gauze, or turn away, eyes averted. They are beautiful but isolated - the time for reconciliation has long passed. This isolation is reinforced by a sense of eroticised cruelty - on one page, a woman plucks out her tongue, on another she thrusts it through a ghostlike paper mask, its tip counterpointed by a single red nail. Bodies are branded, bandaged, broken; they're both scarred and vulnerable. A vibrant red apple declares multiple allusions - beauty, knowledge, temptation, betrayal. Benge's visual vocabulary is typically elusive, but in 'You Won't Be With Me Tomorrow' he seems to examine a larger narrative. A young man is behind bars; a few pages later, stares at himself in a mirror in front of a closed door. A young boy puts his arm around a girl. They look beyond the frame at something troubling. And yet - within Benge's work, there is always unexpected beauty. Hope even. Amongst images of empty rotundas, retreating figures and vanishing planes, a closed door has panes of light, sunlight falls across a track. It's as if Benge, while chronicling the pain of connection, also suggests subtle ways forward: a wooden X beneath a bush may mean stop; it may also be a kiss.

William Eggleston once asked Harvey Benge - What are you doing these days? Photographing the urban social landscape, said Benge. Don't talk bullshit; what are you doing? Eggleston insisted. Making strange pictures in cities, replied Benge. However you look at them, Harvey Benge's photographs are mostly urban and generally strange. His work is mysterious; nothing is solid. The pictures capture contrasts and conflicts which leave you wondering what has just happened and what might happen next. He gives voice to the mundane and overlooked. His open-ended photographic sequences record small moments of everyday life that flash past with tension and ambiguity: an urban dream on the edge of reality where figures retreat, seats are empty, phones don't work. Any and every interpretation is a valid interpretation. What is going on? You decide. With photographs made in Paris, London, New York and Rome, this new intensely personal, some might say autobiographical book, is enigmatically entitled 'Some Things You Should Have Told Me'. It is a remorseless meditation on loss and misadventure, pain and impermanence, the inevitability of change. Questions are asked; there are no answers.

'While looking through his contact sheets, Harvey Benge noticed that one of his pictures reminded him of a 'Friedlander', another someone else. All photographers do this, and if the photograph in question apes another photographer too closely, it's usually a cause for rejection. But Benge did the opposite. Picking out his 'Friedlander' and his 'Parr' and his 'Baltz' he decided to make an 'anthology' of contemporary photography featuring some of its biggest names. Yet they are all genuine, original Benges. They are also all good pictures, not mere pastiches of the 'originals' of which they gently but insistently remind one. This may be a game, but games can be very serious, and this fascinating book is both a serious and light-hearted exploration of photographic style.' - Gerry Badger.

In his quest for the bizarre and the absurd, Harvey Benge continues to scavenge the urban landscape. Lucky Box - A guide to Modern Living is his fifth book and as always Benge thrives on the everyday moments of ordinary life, as he searches for the ambiguities and tensions that lie behind modern urban living. This is a journey of contrast and conflicts - frequently humorous and often deeply disturbing.

The photographs in Harvey Benge's fourth book, Vital Signs, were made in Paris, London, Prague, Hong Kong, and beyond, and invite the viewer to examine his or her own experiences of urban life. Offering up both humorous and deeply disturbing images, Benge questions the significance and substance of the many outwardly bizarre constructs that form the urban landscape. Born in New Zealand and now working in Paris, Benge has participated in exhibitions worldwide in addition to publishing photographs in numerous magazines.

This collection combines humour and mystery to present a view of contemporary urban life. It features photographs from many cities including London, New York, Paris, Rome, Auckland and Sydney. Directed by signs, lights, warnings, we are encouraged to conform. But there are signs of dissent - small anarchies for the observant - unexpected intrusions by the untamed world into this controlled and controlling environment. The author sets out to illuminate these intrusions and offer up their mystery and their intrigue. He also maps the ambiguities and tensions in the urban environment of the late 20th-century.

Photo artist Harvey Benge works and lives in Auckland and Paris. Since the early 1990s his photography practice has investigated our view of the world. Laced with irony and humor, Benge's photographs reveal the strange absurdities of life. Moments of the everyday flash with ambiguity and tension, contrast and conflicts. His new body of work, "All the Places I've Ever Known," further considers the nature of seeing. He shows us details of the world that are sometimes bizarre and sometimes simply and surprisingly beautiful, like a couple of red blossoms fallen onto rough pavement.