Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Posted by Adam at 10:44 AM
Monday, October 13, 2014
My review of Laia Abril's The Epilogue (Dewi Lewis, 2014) is now available on photo-eye. You can get the book here.
All images © Laia Abril / Dewi Lewis
Posted by Adam at 12:22 PM
Monday, October 06, 2014
Monday, September 15, 2014
My review of Paul Graham's Does Yellow Run Forever? (MACK, 2014) is now online at Paper-Journal. You can get the book here.
Posted by Adam at 12:15 PM
Monday, August 18, 2014
My review of Natur by Michael Schmidt (Mack, 2014) is now available on photo-eye. You can get the book here.
Michael Schmidt was always an uncompromising photographer who looked hard at the history and landscape of his native Germany. While Natur lacks the historically dense and evocative tenor of his most widely revered works like Waffenruhe (1987) or EIN-HEIT (1996), it is no less unflinching and suggests a turn inward. Created roughly between Schmidt’s two seminal works, the images of branches, bark, trees and one lone cow seem more like a meditative self-portrait than Schmidt’s other works — a respite from the harsh reality of Berlin and its tortured history. Gone are the Berlin streets and barren lots of his native city, and instead we’re left to wander in the woods, staring at trees and underbrush.
All images © Michael Schmidt and MACK
The book’s layout and sequencing appears somewhat simple at first, but underlying that simplicity is a complex and layered edit. Schmidt has always been an astute editor of his work, both in book and exhibition form. As Peter Galassi recently wrote of EIN-HEIT, “the deliberate, poetic sequence simultaneously evokes the painful complexities of German history after 1933 and interrogates the reader, who is obliged to interpret the uncaptioned images and the implications that arise from the sequence.”* Schmidt often referred to his way of arranging pictures as “1+1=3” — a nod to montage and the complex ways in which still images, once placed together, create a new emotional whole. Rather than relying on dramatic juxtapositions, Natur’s meticulous pacing and sequencing has the subtle effect of drawing the viewer in while also making them acutely aware of both the meditative act of looking through the lens and each image’s relation to the whole. Schmidt achieves this by not only juxtaposing macro and micro images of expansive aerial landscapes and details of tangled bark or branches, but also through the minute variation of paired images. Throughout the book, there are images taken moments apart, where only the angle or distance has changed. The almost repeating images function like breaks in the book’s rhythm, stopping us and revealing the camera and Schmidt’s editorial hand — reminding us that each frame is a decision and variation of countless choices.
When Schmidt passed away in May, we lost one of our greatest contemporary photographers. From his work establishing the Werkstatt für Photographie (Workshop for Photography) in 1976 to his powerful and uncompromising work spanning over thirty years, Schmidt left an indelible mark on the medium. Fittingly entitled Natur, Schmidt does not describe a particular place, but offers an analytic and unsentimental study of form — the chaos of nature rendered meaningful in the frame and the cool uniformity of grey. Whether he’s moving closer or stepping back, offering an expansive view or peering in close, Schmidt’s inquisitive eye teases apart the natural world and its many forms, all the while directing our eyes to the act of looking. Elegantly designed and beautifully printed, Natur has unexpected finality, but it’s also a reminder of Schmidt’s gifts as an artist and what we’ve all lost in his passing.
Posted by Adam at 3:58 PM
Monday, July 28, 2014
My review of Frowst by Joanna Piotrowska (MACK, 2014) is now available on photo-eye. You can get the book here.
Families are notoriously prickly beasts. Even for the most loving family, there are moments of tension and an intimacy too close to disavow or escape. Yet, however much we assert our autonomy, familial ties, both chosen and given, shape us as individuals and remain with us throughout our lives. Equally funny and perplexing, Joanna Piotrowska’s Frowst is a sublimely absurd family album. Tightly edited, the book presents a series of staged moments between members of Piotrowska’s family that hover on the edge of tender embrace and claustrophobic revolt. The book’s title, frowst, is an archaic and predominantly British term, that not only denotes a stuffy, cozy and/or oppressive environment, but can also be used as a verb, and means to lounge around in that same space. Whether or not our family is near or close, we all lounge around in that space — touched from a distance or up close, shaped as individuals and united as families, we can’t escape.
Frowst is the third winner of the First Book Prize and follows Paul Salveson’s Between the Shell and Mrs. Merryman’s Collection — all published by MACK. Elegantly designed and smartly sequenced, the black and white images in the book defy a singular narrative and instead offer psychologically wrought and awkward moments of intimacy. Containing only twenty-eight images, the book shows a restraint that is refreshing. At the same time, the brevity of Frowst only seems to add to its perplexing nature. In the end, the book concludes with the image of a woman arched, belly down, on the floor and staring at the camera. The absence of explanatory text and the title alone will leave most puzzled and looking to the dictionary.
Interestingly, the poses throughout the book are partially inspired by the German therapist Bert Hellinger, who is best know for his theory and practice of Family Constellation therapy. Also popular with new age groups, the therapy claims to break destructive generational patterns in families. Often resembling bizarre trust exercises, Piotrowska's family embraces, tentatively touches one another, kisses, sits in each other’s laps and lay next to one another on the floor and outdoors. While the poses are not unnatural, the tension arises from the neutral gazes of her subjects, who stare off into space or blankly look at one another. Stripped of more expressive drama and eschewing any direct narrative, Piotrowska presents humorous and enigmatic fragments of gestures, interactions and encounters. Brothers squat and lounge on the floor in their underwear; sisters sit next to one another, their patterned dresses optically vibrating in unison; and a woman partially out of the frame gingerly places her hands around the neck of a seated woman.
In keeping with the book’s cryptic nature, the images have no titles. The only text is out-of-sequence Roman numerals at the bottom of the page that refer to the images. With no information or explanation, the images feel like they’ve been torn from an odd behavioral manual or, given the work’s inspiration, from a therapist’s journal—the notes and comments about the suggestive meanings of each pose and glance redacted. Shot in black and white, and often using a flash, the work also has a flat documentary quality. While the technical aspects of the work suggest an amateurish nature, the visually astute compositions suggest otherwise. In one beautiful image, shot without the flash, the dappled lighting of a tree falls on two women lightly embracing, and in another striking picture, three young men and women lay atop one another surrounded and enveloped by a field of freshly cut grass.
Despite the stilted formality of the images, there is a tenderness that pervades the work. Ironically, each neutral touch and glace suggests not only permission and trust, as well as the occasional hint of exasperation, but also an affection that can only arise from the close ties of family. Equally farcical and confounding, Frowst is an intriguing and compelling first book by an exciting new talent. Let’s hope there’s more confusion to come.
Please note: This review originally appeared on photo-eye on July 28th, 2014. You can get the book here.
Posted by Adam at 1:53 PM
Friday, July 25, 2014
My review of Stasis by Trine Søndergaard (Hatje Cantz, 2014) is now available on photo-eye. You can get the book here.
__________________________________Both as a solo artist, and in collaboration with Nicolai Howalt, Trine Søndergaard has demonstrated wide range. Whether she is documenting the lives of sex workers, exploring the primal and visually evocative nature of hunting with Howlat, or cataloging the varieties and beauty of women’s traditional garments in formally evocative portraits, Søndergaard’s work has always displayed clarity of focus that is striking. Stasis, a beautiful, but flawed new catalog accompanies a traveling exhibition, and gathers three related bodies of work — Strude (2007-10), Interiors (2010) and Guldnakke (2012) — that all explore themes of stillness and introspection.
Although discrete, the three series are all woven together nicely invoking a quiet interiority. Drawing on classical Dutch painting, like Vermeer, as well as other lesser-known examples, and shot in square format, the work has a formal precision that is remarkable. Interiors, shows the vacant hallways and rooms of various abandoned Dutch estates; Guldnakke, shows women in modern dress wearing intricately embroidered traditional gold bonnets, and Strude, presents women from the island of Fano wearing traditional protective facial headdresses. Although Strude is the standout, the individual series that make up Stasis are all strong. It is also worth noting that Søndergaard’s use and sense of light in both the interiors and portraits is as beautiful as it is precise.
The book’s title, Stasis, suggests a state in which things do not change, move or progress. This is initially misleading, but makes sense. Søndergaard directs our attention, though the forceful and rigid construction of her images, to the lingering presence of tradition and the past in the present. In each stripped interior and formally composed portrait, she slows time, forcing us to hover between the past and present, asking us to look more closely. Søndergaard’s work creates a world where the past and present exist in equilibrium — perhaps not unchanging, but precariously balanced.
Unfortunately, despite its beauty, the book has simply too many images. Overloaded with photographs that either repeat or differ only slightly, the book’s tone is quickly belabored. As an overly inclusive exhibition catalog, the otherwise powerful images and series suffer, diminishing what should be a great book. Reduced by half, the book would be remarkable. The book’s essay by Mieke Bal also does not help. Although exceptionally erudite and far-reaching, the essay suffers from the same bloat as the book. It explains and digresses, then digresses and explains some more.
The near misses are always the hardest to endure. Between the exceptional printing and remarkable imagery, Stasis should be a wonderful book. At the same time, it is foolish to wish for a different book than the one that sits before you. Despite its flaws, Stasis is a beautiful book full of many striking images and beautiful large reproductions that will be enjoyed not only by fans of Søndergaard, but viewers new to her work.
Please note: This review originally appeared on photo-eye on July 24th, 2014. You can get the book here.
Posted by Adam at 1:59 PM