JTF (just the facts): A total of 105 black and white images, framed in brown wood and variously matted, and hung in the first floor galleries of the museum. The images were made primarily in the 1960s and 1970s, although many are dated more generally 1950-1980. The show also includes two large class cases filled with a variety of handmade cameras, boxes and rolls of old film, cardboard lenses, a makeshift enlarger and other junk. A documentary film on the photographer, entitled
Tarzan Retired, from 2004, runs in a side room (and is well worth spending the time to watch). This exhibit was curated by Brian Wallis. (Since photography is not allowed in the
ICP galleries, there are unfortunately no installation shots for this show.
Miroslav Tichý,
Untitled, n.d., at right, via the
ICP website.)
Comments/Context: With the possible exception of the rediscovery of the studio portraits of Mike
Disfarmer, the work of Czech photographer
Miroslav Tichý is perhaps the best example in the past decade of "outsider" art finding its way into the top echelons of the fine art photography world. Read any article on
Tichý and you will be bombarded by his romantic and eccentric
backstory: a gifted painter rejects the academy (and the controls of the government) and becomes a wild haired vagabond, obsessively haunting the streets of
Kyjov with his camera made of toilet paper tubes and rubber bands,
surreptitiously taking pictures of women on park benches and lounging by the town swimming pool, leaving his stained and damaged prints to pile up on the dusty shelves of his ramshackle apartment. The photographer is alternately characterized as obsessive, subversive, reclusive, alcoholic, and voyeuristic, or more simply as a resolutely stubborn (and surprisingly sharp and lucid) dissenter.
Regardless of the whether we find this personal story entertaining or just plain sad, the work itself stands up to the flush of new scrutiny with unexpected strength. At first glance, the images have the well worn look of vernacular snapshots that have been packed up in a box in your grandmother's attic for decades. But after your eye has a chance to adjust, and your brain lets go of the cult of perfection that pervades our view of contemporary photography, these prints resonate with a simple elegance that is enhanced by their blurs and imperfections. The spots, stains, and discolorations are paired with scratches, folds, and tears, and wrapped in hand crafted cardboard mats with swirling decorations; the effect is that each picture becomes a one-of-a-kind object or an artifact, a poetic and ultimately unknowable look into the past.
The exhibit itself is grouped by different cropped views of the female form. There are women in the streets, with patterned coats and dresses, shop girls and waitresses, and pairs of women seen in sidelong portraits, head shots or from the back. There are crossed legs and isolated ankles, feet running, and elaborate shoes. There are people on park benches kissing, dark unrecognizable nudes and dancers, and plenty of bathers and swimsuits, lying down on towels in the grass. The works have the authentic feel of the everyday (with a dose of the surveillance camera), and yet these small public moments have somehow been elevated into something more profound; the common and crude have become graceful and timeless.
While these pictures reminded me a bit of
Lartigue or of
Winogrand's women, the body of work is really so different from anything else that it is hard to place it in any kind of relative historical context. It is the work of an artist who chose to recede away from the establishment, to reject the accepted truths and search for something more real and personal amidst the routines of day to day living. What I like best about these pictures is that they seem altogether genuine - all the imperfections come together to make something which is the refreshing antidote to overworked,
overreferenced photography. In the end, I think
Tichý's personal story falls away and the pictures come forward as tangible, fragmented expressions of the beauty in the familiar.
Collector's POV: Several different galleries in New York have either had small shows of
Tichý's work or carry some prints in inventory, but it is difficult to discern which of these might be his official representative, if one exists. Perhaps it is Howard
Greenberg Gallery, but I am not certain (maybe someone can clarify in the comments.)
Tichý's work has only recently found its way to the secondary markets; prices for the few prints that have surfaced have ranged between $3000 and $10000.
Rating: ** (two stars) VERY GOOD (rating system described
here)
Transit Hub:- Tichý Ocean foundation site (here)
- Reviews: NY Times (here), Financial Times (here), Guardian, 2008 (here)
Miroslav TichýThrough May 9
thInternational Center of Photography1133 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10036
JTF (just the facts): A total of 13 color photographs, framed in brown wood and unmatted, and hung against white walls in the main gallery space. All of the works are archival pigment prints made between 2000 and 2011. The prints range in size from 14x11 to 25x18 and are available in editions of 8. A retrospective survey of the artist's work was recently published by Kehrer (here) and is available from the gallery for $67. (Installation shots at right.)
The best of the images on view here find a subject who seems caught between the two worlds, where a hairstyle, the curve of a nose, or a piece of clothing hearkens back to another age. Suddenly a silk wrap, a wide-necked dress, some black beads, or the direct stare of a dark haired woman seem to seamlessly connect the past and present. Other works feel slightly more dissonant, as if the modern sitter has been trapped in an uncomfortably formal pose or a frame that is too small. Each photograph plays with a changing sense of time, highlighting tiny similarities and differences between what we expect from art history and what we are now.
