Showing posts with label G. Gibson Gallery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label G. Gibson Gallery. Show all posts

Friday, September 17, 2010

Julie Blackmon: Line-Up @Mann

JTF (just the facts): A total of 13 color photographs, framed in white with no mats, and hung in the single room gallery space (with a small dividing wall). All of the works are archival pigment prints. The images on view come in three physical sizes with corresponding edition sizes: 22x29 in editions of 25, 32x42 in editions of 10, and 40x53 in editions of 5. There are 2 of the smallest size, 6 of the middle size, and 5 of the largest size in the show. All of the works were made between 2008 and 2010. (Installation shots at right.)

Comments/Context: Since our home has a couple of young kids running wild inside, Julie Blackmon's stylized images of the loosely controlled chaos of childhood seem all too familiar. With a touch of humor and an eye for situations that border on the realistically absurd, her pictures are digitally staged vignettes that at once seem both wildly artificial and surprisingly and ironically plausible.
.
My favorite picture in the show is High Dive, where a gaggle of mismatched and unmonitored children fire straggly dolls off the second floor deck of a suburban house toward a blue plastic wading pool, while the parents sit outside on the lawn and drink wine in the twilight, generally oblivious to the action going on nearby. An appropriate assortment of abandoned clothing and shoes is strewn across the landscape. It captures both the imagination of summertime childhood play as well as the stress release of communal parenting. I can entirely imagine the scene devolving into tears (likely from a now remorseful or angry doll owner), or perhaps a back-handed shout of "No Injuries!" from one or another of the otherwise happily distracted parents.

Blackmon's pictures both pare down and exaggerate typical family-life scenes, making them almost perfect caricatures of the reality they portray. A girl practices her violin while her brother plugs his ears, a boy climbs the built-in shelving of the library, and kids scatter in the street as a parent loads the trunk of a car. Carefully placed props (a scooter, a half-eaten doughnut, a pile of confetti, a bunch of tinker toys, a Godzilla action figure) make the stories more enigmatically complex, referring to other related but unmentioned narratives that have already played out at some time in the recent past. Or maybe they're just the discarded remnants of everyday, messy life with kids.

While the overt staginess of these pictures can be a bit distracting, their mixing of obvious unreality with telling glimpses of underlying truth is what makes these pictures work. We've certainly experienced variations on this kind of surreal, random weirdness; perhaps lacking the candy-colors, shiny floors, and perfect lighting, but close enough to have resonance and create knowing chuckles. Blackmon references the Dutch Renaissance painter Jan Steen in her artist statement, and the images do have a constructed, painterly feel, drawn from memory and recreated using the powerful tools of digital photography.
.
Overall, I came away more impressed with these pictures than I expected to be. In the best of the works, Blackmon's imaginary craziness is a subtle mirror of our own lives, simultaneously mocking and sympathetic. The terrified baby launched into the air by his father is both oddly ridiculous and eerily reminiscent of things we have all done.
.
Collector's POV: The works in the show are priced by size and place in the edition. The 22x29 images are priced at $2800 or $3600; the 32x42 images are priced at $3800, $4200 or $5000, and the 40x53 images are $6900 or $8500. Blackmon's work has only recently started to trickle into the secondary markets, so no robust pricing history is really available. As such, gallery retail is likely the only option for interested collectors at this point. Blackmon is also represented by Catherine Edelman in Chicago (here), Robert Klein in Boston (here), Fahey/Klein in Los Angeles (here), Photo-Eye in Santa Fe (here), and Gail Gibson in Seattle (here).
.
Rating: * (one star) GOOD (rating system described here)

Transit Hub:

  • Artist site (here)
  • Reviews: New Yorker (here), Photo Booth (here), Boston Globe (here)
Through October 23rd

Robert Mann Gallery
210 Eleventh Avenue
New York, NY 10001

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Eirik Johnson: Sawdust Mountain @Aperture

JTF (just the facts): A total of 37 color photographs, framed in blond wood with no mat, and hung in the large gallery space, further separated by two dividing walls. The archival pigment prints come in two sizes 24x30 (or reverse), in editions of 10, and 40x50 (or reverse), in editions of 5; there are 25 small images and 12 large images in the exhibition. All of the works were made between 2006 and 2008. The show was curated by Elizabeth Brown. A monograph of this project has been recently published by Aperture and is available in the shop for $40 (here). (Installation shots at right.)

Comments/Context: Eirik Johnson's contemporary photographs of the Pacific Northwest expose the gap between the promise and grandeur of the region's staggering natural resources and the 21st century reality of its depleted and declining industries and rural communities. It's a depressing and increasingly desperate portrait of the region, where man's encroachment on the environment seems to have gone too far, forcing the people dependent on timber and fishing to hang in the balance, looking to recover some kind of elusive sustainable equilibrium.

If you look back at the early 20th century photographs of Darius Kinsey (review here), the power of nature over man was obvious. Even though tiny loggers with hand saws were pulling down massive firs and cedars that dwarfed them in size, it was clear that the forest was king and we were insignificant interlopers. These people were pioneers and homesteaders, clawing out a rough living from the bounty that surrounded them. Kinsey's pictures have a palpable sense of romance and awe, with teams of men sitting on beasts they have just vanquished.

Fast forward a century and the scene has changed dramatically. Cut logs are now stacked in huge yards, entire landscapes have been clear cut, and seedlings are grown in greenhouses. The balance of power has noticeably reversed - man is no longer looking up at nature, but is now peering down trying to "manage" it for optimum profitability. The scale has increased dramatically: boards and planks multiply, sawdust piles up, and lumber offices stand ready to organize it all. And yet, the boom has already come and gone, and we're now left on the other side of the expansion, looking back at what happened and trying to make sense of the lost jobs, the empty fisheries, the crumbling dams and the ecological failure.

Stylistically, Johnson is travelling down a thoroughly American road, mixing understated portraits and unexpected landscapes in the same long form project - there are compositional connections to Joel Sternfeld, Mitch Epstein and Alec Soth, as well as tangential ties to other images of the region made by Robert Adams (West from the Columbia) and Frank Gohlke (Mount Saint Helens). Johnson is telling his complex story via the aggregation of many small pieces and vignettes that together paint a bigger picture of life in these communities: grey skies, dead fish, abandoned moss covered houses, truck cabs, hollow-eyed workers, salmon jerky, dryer lint artwork, and a dispiriting array of things for sale (sweaters, firewood, rusty trucks, Star Wars memorabilia, and porn).
.
What I found most sad about this whole story was the leaden silence that seems to hover everywhere in Johnson's images. The rain falls, life moves on, the people stay or move away (it doesn't seem to matter), and quiet envelops everything. Individually, these subtle, often straightforward works don't shout from the walls, but their collective effect (particularly in book form) hits home with surprising force.
.
Collector's POV: Since this isn't a selling show, there aren't any posted prices for the works on display. Eirik Johnson is represented by G. Gibson Gallery in Seattle (here) and Rena Bransten Gallery in San Francisco (here). His work has not yet become available in the secondary markets, so gallery retail is likely the only option for interested collectors at this point.
.
Rating: * (one star) GOOD (rating system described here)
.
Transit Hub:
  • Artist site (here)
  • Henry Art Gallery, 2009 (here)
  • Reviews: Artforum (here, scroll down), Another Bouncing Ball (here)
  • Book Review: Conscientious (here)
  • Interview: Ahorn (here)
Eirik Johnson: Sawdust Mountain
Through June 10th

547 West 27th Street
New York, NY 10001