Current New York Photography Shows
New reviews added this week in red.
(Rating: Artist/Title: Venue: Closing Date: link to review)
Uptown
No reviews at this time.
Midtown
ONE STAR: Oliver Gagliani: Gitterman: August 9: review
THREE STARS: Bill Brandt: MoMA: August 12: review
ONE STAR: Snap Noir: Pace/MacGill: August 21: review
TWO STARS: John Baldessari: Marian Goodman: August 23: review
ONE STAR: XL: MoMA: January 6: review
Chelsea
ONE STAR: Rebecca Norris Webb: Ricco Maresca: August 17: review
ONE STAR: Under My Skin: Flowers: August 24: review
SoHo/Lower East Side/Downtown
ONE STAR: Jimmy DeSana: Salon 94 Bowery: August 9: review
Elsewhere Nearby
ONE STAR: LaToya Ruby Frazier: Brooklyn Museum: August 11: review
ONE STAR: Legacy/Fisher Landau Collection: Aldrich Museum: September 2: review
Forward Auction Calendar
New auctions added this week in red.
(Sale Date: Sale Title: Auction House: link to catalog)
No previews at this time.
From one photography collector to another: a venue for thoughtful discussion of vintage and contemporary photography via reviews of recent museum exhibitions, gallery shows, photography auctions, photo books, art fairs and other items of interest to photography collectors large and small.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Legacy: Photographs from the Emily Fisher Landau Collection @Aldrich
The following artists/photographers have been included in the exhibit, with the number of works and print details as background:
- Richard Artschwager: 1 sculpture/photographs mounted on wood, 2002
- Matthew Barney: 1 chromogenic print in self-lubricating frame, 2002
- Keith Cottingham: 1 digital chromogenic print, 2004
- Lynn Davis: 1 gold-toned gelatin silver print, 2000/2002
- Philip-Lorca diCorcia: 1 chromogenic print mounted on Plexiglas, 2000
- John Dugdale: 1 hand-coated cyanotype, 1994
- Nan Goldin: 1 silver dye bleach print, 1994
- Rodney Graham: 1 chromogenic print, 1990
- Robert Longo: 1 silver dye bleach print, 1980/1998
- Vera Lutter: 1 gelatin silver print, 1996
- Robert Mapplethorpe: 1 gelatin silver print, 1988
- Abelardo Morell: 1 gelatin silver print, 2003
- Shirin Neshat: 3 silver dye bleach prints, 2002
- Victoria Sambunaris: 1 chromogenic print mounted on aluminum, 2002
- Lorna Simpson: 2 gelatin silver prints in framed with plaque, 1991
- Kiki Smith, 4 chromogenic prints, 2000-2001
- Hiroshi Sugimoto: 1 gelatin silver print, 1994
So while it's hard to draw a line that connects all of the works on view here into a coherent whole, this small show certainly delivers a respectable mix of recent photography. I'm sure the larger Fisher Landau collection did plenty of welcome hole filling in the Whitney's permanent collection (in photography and other mediums), and with the new building opening soon, I'm hoping we'll slowly get a chance to see even more of its photographic treasures.
Rating: * (one star) GOOD (rating system described here)
Transit Hub:
Through September 2nd
258 Main Street
Ridgefield, CT 06877
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Book: Dayanita Singh, File Room
JTF (just the facts): Published in 2013 by Steidl (here). Hardback/clothbound, 88 pages, with 70 black and white images. The book includes a series of texts by Aveek Sen and an artist interview with Hans Ulrich Obrist. (Spread shots below.)
Comments/Context: It is altogether fitting that Dayanita Singh's visual meditation on the nature of paper in our digital age should smell so good. It's the kind of book that rewards a nose pressed into the gutters and a deep lungful of breath, the sweet perfume of inks and rough tactile paper creating a real physical experience of what paper can mean. This simple sensual moment quickly pulls us down the rabbit hole and we are transported to Singh's surreal and magical world of Indian file rooms, each its own peculiar mountain of sagging, tilted, toppled papers. Fluorescent bulbs buzz overhead as we silently wander the narrow hallways of shelving in state archives and municipal offices, overwhelmed by the endless paperwork of bureaucracy.
At first glance, the groaning file rooms offer a nearly hopeless pessimism, a head shaking feeling of astonished helplessness in the face of such suffocating, ancient chaos. But then a glimmer of order starts to reveal itself; the ledgers, books, files and loose papers have been stacked, bound, and piled using a dizzying array of methods. They are tied together with twine, bundled with cloth like laundry, padlocked in cupboards, and stored in flat files. Small rooms and warehouses are stacked to the ceiling with metal shelves and wooden cabinets, with cubby holes, lockers, trunks and boxes providing additional organization. Papers are heaped on every available surface, but their fluttering, jagged edges become regular horizontal lines and flat angles. Every room is its own unbelievable system, the labyrinthine domain of a human archivist who knows where things are.
Sometimes this person is a head peeking out from a sea of files, but mostly the archivist is absent, represented by a clean table and chair where work is done. While the papers encroach from all sides, the table is a tiny oasis of free space, a place where the battle for order is won. When an archivist is present, he or she seems to radiate quiet confidence and competent pride, certain that the arcane symbols and unknowable numerical markings on the shelving will lead to the right answers with swift efficiency. Singh's photographs document both the physical manifestation of complex systems of coding and classification and the human element that makes the systems work, organizing principles that are at once hidden and entirely visible.
In our age of digital bits, these images tell the age old story of bureaucratic paper with rich, dusty sympathy. There is a unruly beauty to these dark, magical rooms, where history and memory are slowly fading to nothingness. Once important papers are now neglected or forgotten, fused together by moisture and decay. The photographs are a reminder of the precariousness of memory, of how history is so easily lost. In a certain way, Singh's Indian file room project is like an archive of archives, an attempt to capture something important before it disappears, and not unlike the efforts of the Bechers to document various vanishing industrial forms. Her photographs tell the story of how we used to do things, with a sense of wonder and nostalgia that makes the pictures engrossing.
To my eye, there is something grandly mysterious about Singh's anachronistic file rooms, full of secrets and intrigues, buried under an avalanche of paper. Order and disorder shift back and forth like two sides of a coin, and shadowy figures wait to unlock the past for those with the right questions. These places seem like sets out of fantastical literature, but are clearly rooted in the punishingly mundane realities of decades of government work. File Room is the kind of book to get lost in, a glimpse of a world that seems too odd to be true.
Collector’s POV: Dayanita Singh is represented by Frith Street Gallery in London (here); she doesn't appear to have New York representation. Her work has not yet reached the secondary markets with any regularity, so gallery retail remains the best option for those collectors interested in following up.
Transit Hub:
Comments/Context: It is altogether fitting that Dayanita Singh's visual meditation on the nature of paper in our digital age should smell so good. It's the kind of book that rewards a nose pressed into the gutters and a deep lungful of breath, the sweet perfume of inks and rough tactile paper creating a real physical experience of what paper can mean. This simple sensual moment quickly pulls us down the rabbit hole and we are transported to Singh's surreal and magical world of Indian file rooms, each its own peculiar mountain of sagging, tilted, toppled papers. Fluorescent bulbs buzz overhead as we silently wander the narrow hallways of shelving in state archives and municipal offices, overwhelmed by the endless paperwork of bureaucracy.
At first glance, the groaning file rooms offer a nearly hopeless pessimism, a head shaking feeling of astonished helplessness in the face of such suffocating, ancient chaos. But then a glimmer of order starts to reveal itself; the ledgers, books, files and loose papers have been stacked, bound, and piled using a dizzying array of methods. They are tied together with twine, bundled with cloth like laundry, padlocked in cupboards, and stored in flat files. Small rooms and warehouses are stacked to the ceiling with metal shelves and wooden cabinets, with cubby holes, lockers, trunks and boxes providing additional organization. Papers are heaped on every available surface, but their fluttering, jagged edges become regular horizontal lines and flat angles. Every room is its own unbelievable system, the labyrinthine domain of a human archivist who knows where things are.
Sometimes this person is a head peeking out from a sea of files, but mostly the archivist is absent, represented by a clean table and chair where work is done. While the papers encroach from all sides, the table is a tiny oasis of free space, a place where the battle for order is won. When an archivist is present, he or she seems to radiate quiet confidence and competent pride, certain that the arcane symbols and unknowable numerical markings on the shelving will lead to the right answers with swift efficiency. Singh's photographs document both the physical manifestation of complex systems of coding and classification and the human element that makes the systems work, organizing principles that are at once hidden and entirely visible.
In our age of digital bits, these images tell the age old story of bureaucratic paper with rich, dusty sympathy. There is a unruly beauty to these dark, magical rooms, where history and memory are slowly fading to nothingness. Once important papers are now neglected or forgotten, fused together by moisture and decay. The photographs are a reminder of the precariousness of memory, of how history is so easily lost. In a certain way, Singh's Indian file room project is like an archive of archives, an attempt to capture something important before it disappears, and not unlike the efforts of the Bechers to document various vanishing industrial forms. Her photographs tell the story of how we used to do things, with a sense of wonder and nostalgia that makes the pictures engrossing.
To my eye, there is something grandly mysterious about Singh's anachronistic file rooms, full of secrets and intrigues, buried under an avalanche of paper. Order and disorder shift back and forth like two sides of a coin, and shadowy figures wait to unlock the past for those with the right questions. These places seem like sets out of fantastical literature, but are clearly rooted in the punishingly mundane realities of decades of government work. File Room is the kind of book to get lost in, a glimpse of a world that seems too odd to be true.
Collector’s POV: Dayanita Singh is represented by Frith Street Gallery in London (here); she doesn't appear to have New York representation. Her work has not yet reached the secondary markets with any regularity, so gallery retail remains the best option for those collectors interested in following up.
Transit Hub:
- Artist site (here)
- Deutscher Pavillon at Venice Biennale, 2013 (here)
- Feature: Financial Times (here)
Monday, July 29, 2013
Snap Noir: Snapshot Stories from the Collection of Robert E. Jackson @Pace/MacGill
Comments/Context: The dividing line between art photography and vernacular photography has always been a bit murkier than we might like to admit. Definitionally, we might say that it all comes down to original intent: in an art photograph, the person clicking the shutter was consciously making an artwork, while in a vernacular photograph, that same person might have been making a snapshot, documenting something of note, or acting for an infinite number of other reasons, except for making an artwork. Where things get a little bit more troublesome is that down the line, years later, it is altogether possible to see vernacular photographs with new eyes, where their original purpose or context is entirely removed, and their underlying artistic merit comes forth. Across the history of the medium, this has happened time and again, where images made for scientific, evidentiary, or documentary purposes (by photographers known and unknown) have been placed in the white walled context of a museum or gallery and have been instantly transformed into "art", not by some decree from on high, but by the intrinsic artistic merits of the images themselves.
The result is a show that is infused with a kind of inescapable mystery. The questions we have about the actual details of these images are unknowable, and so we are left with their formal qualities and the flights of our collective imagination to make sense of what we see. But that ambiguity is surprisingly powerful, forcing us to get away from reading wall labels and sizing up artistic reputations and back to just looking at the photographs themselves and seeing what surprises they have to offer.
Rating: * (one star) GOOD (rating system described here)
Transit Hub:
- Exhibit: The Art of the American Snapshot, 1888-1978 @NGA, 2007 (here)
- Interview: Design Observer (here)
- Features/Reviews: New Yorker (here)
Through August 21st
32 East 57th Street
New York, NY 10022
Friday, July 26, 2013
Book: Alec Soth and Brad Zellar, LBM Dispatch #5: Colorado
JTF (just the facts): Published in 2013 by Little Brown Mushroom (here). Newsprint, 48 pages, with 42 black and white images taken by Alec Soth. Most of the photographs are accompanied by texts by Brad Zellar, and/or by quotes from James Galvin, EE Cummings, Willa Cather, and others. (Spread shots below.)
Comments/Context: While photocopied and small run artists' zines have long been part of an amorphous underground publishing community, there is no doubt that the explosion of economically viable self publishing options that have emerged in the past few years has dramatically reshaped the photo book industry. While major titles with superlative printing and design may still follow more traditional production paths and release schedules, the do-it-yourself disruption has led to a flourishing of book making creativity and innovation, and a fast moving landslide of publications that don't look and feel like we expect them to. The five crammed shelves of revolutionary photobooks included in this year's ICP Triennial are a testament to just how important this phenomenon has become to the way we are experiencing contemporary photography.
The LBM Dispatch series from Alec Soth and Brad Zellar is a fantastic example of how newfound publishing freedoms have allowed artists to follow their own interests more precisely. Their "books" are nearly the opposite of what we've been taught to appreciate: they're big (tabloid sized), they're printed on cheap disposable paper (newsprint), they're relatively inexpensive, and they reject the normal "parade of solitary imagery" approach by liberally mixing photographs and text. But by breaking all the rules, what Soth and Zellar have really done is simply matched form to function, molding the in-your-hands physical display to fit the kind of serial storytelling they want to do, which by the way, is a kind of storytelling that they've had to reinvent because it's been overlooked for so long.
At the simplest level, the LBM Dispatch project falls into the long American tradition of expedition and road trip photography. Walking in the footsteps of everyone from Timothy O'Sullivan to Robert Frank, Soth and Zellar have headed out on rambling open ended trips and documented what they've found. But unlike their predecessors, Soth and Zellar have brought prose much more fully into the artistic end product; the texts here are not addendums or afterthoughts, but integrated parts of the collaborative storytelling experience. While the James Agee/Walker Evans team is certainly once precedent, I think there is stronger kinship here with the work of Wright Morris, where text and pictures were used with nearly equal brilliance to capture the nuances of specific American places and times.
In this particular issue, Soth and Zellar have driven the roads of Colorado, taking in healthy gulps of mountain vistas and frontier spirit. While their trips clearly have a dose of serendipity, these are not really random moments; they've done their homework, read their history, and are looking for certain kinds of encounters that will touch on larger themes. This method of building up a narrative is well suited to Soth's approach to photography; he has never been one to be pigeon holed into just portraits, landscapes, still lifes, or any other type or subject matter, so this kind of vignette-driven storytelling fits well with his natural working style. While rugged snowy mountains and huge storm clouds are an inescapable part of any portrait of Colorado, Soth and Zellar have dug deeper than the stunning landscape, probing the edges of local communities, common folklore, and the undercurrent of violence seemingly inherent to life in this wide open country.
Many of Soth's photographs in this book are portraits of people and objects, seen with an open, unassuming honesty that allows a sliver of the surreal to slip in nearly undetected: a bearded man stands in front of an enormous pile of antlers, while another sports a plastic mask of Doc Holliday, and a woman in formal riding gear waits for her horse perched on a set of stairs, while another beams in her colonial frontier dress amid a row of parked cars. Often, the still life objects and places are secondary evidence, physical remains with some additional resonance: a tombstone of a famous cannibal, the path leading to the Columbine High School memorial, a bullet hole in the wall at Focus on the Family, a rusted out, pock-marked car in the dust near the home of the Dragon Man, a plastic bear torso at a local archery club. Each image tells its own self contained mini-story, and contributes to the weaving of a larger non-linear tapestry of collective impressions.
Zellar's words are equally important to the overall rhythm of this collaboration. Some of his contributions are casual, quirky interviews with the portrait sitters, often laced with nuggets of personal history or pithy wisdom. Others are background explanations, reflections, or poetry selections, incomplete hints of something more, but just enough to give us some context or a narrative handhold to grasp. The cadence of his voice is quiet and conversational, generally pared back to essentials and lacking in showy verbal flourishes, with a soft, poetic irony that is at once true to the facts and open to interpretation. His texts are easy going and approachable, authentically curious in their search for meaning, but appropriately ambiguous and open ended. Perhaps most amazingly, Zellar and Soth have got the artistic balance just right, where the mood of the photographs and the content and style of the prose never compete or trample on one another.
What I like best about this collaboration is that it has produced a truly personal riff on visual storytelling. They have blatantly disregarded the notion that words and photographs have no business mixing together, and instead have embraced the combination of forms as a more flexible method of communicating their own kind of mysterious narrative. They have resolutely camped out in no man's land, bring prose that is more than a caption but less than an essay into direct conversation with individual images, allowing each photograph to open up further. And they have rejected the notion that such a product need thump down on your coffee table, and have instead offered us a physical form that can be enjoyed with unassuming pleasure. All in, Soth and Zellar have taken a bunch of obvious risks and delivered something of unpretentious grace and genius, a product that elegantly fits both who they are and the way they see the world.
Collector’s POV: Alec Soth is represented by Sean Kelly Gallery in New York (here). Soth's photographs have begun to appear in the secondary markets more regularity in recent years, with prices ranging from roughly $4000 to $22000.
Transit Hub:
- Alec Soth artist site (here)
- Alec Soth - Magnum Photos page (here)
- LBM Dispatch tumblr (here)
- Feature: Vice (here)
Thursday, July 25, 2013
The Checklist: 7/25/13
Current New York Photography Shows
New reviews added this week in red.
(Rating: Artist/Title: Venue: Closing Date: link to review)
Uptown
TWO STARS: William Eggleston: Met: July 28: review
Midtown
ONE STAR: Oliver Gagliani: Gitterman: August 9: review
THREE STARS: Bill Brandt: MoMA: August 12: review
TWO STARS: John Baldessari: Marian Goodman: August 23: review
ONE STAR: XL: MoMA: January 6: review
Chelsea
ONE STAR: Laurel Nakadate: Leslie Tonkonow: July 26: review
TWO STARS: Takuma Nakahira: Yossi Milo: July 26: review
ONE STAR: Rebecca Norris Webb: Ricco Maresca: August 17: review
ONE STAR: Under My Skin: Flowers: August 24: review
SoHo/Lower East Side/Downtown
ONE STAR: Jimmy DeSana: Salon 94 Bowery: August 9: review
Elsewhere Nearby
ONE STAR: LaToya Ruby Frazier: Brooklyn Museum: August 11: review
ONE STAR: Ansel Adams: MoMA PS1: September 2: review
Forward Auction Calendar
New auctions added this week in red.
(Sale Date: Sale Title: Auction House: link to catalog)
No previews at this time.
New reviews added this week in red.
(Rating: Artist/Title: Venue: Closing Date: link to review)
Uptown
TWO STARS: William Eggleston: Met: July 28: review
Midtown
ONE STAR: Oliver Gagliani: Gitterman: August 9: review
THREE STARS: Bill Brandt: MoMA: August 12: review
TWO STARS: John Baldessari: Marian Goodman: August 23: review
ONE STAR: XL: MoMA: January 6: review
Chelsea
ONE STAR: Laurel Nakadate: Leslie Tonkonow: July 26: review
TWO STARS: Takuma Nakahira: Yossi Milo: July 26: review
ONE STAR: Rebecca Norris Webb: Ricco Maresca: August 17: review
ONE STAR: Under My Skin: Flowers: August 24: review
SoHo/Lower East Side/Downtown
ONE STAR: Jimmy DeSana: Salon 94 Bowery: August 9: review
Elsewhere Nearby
ONE STAR: LaToya Ruby Frazier: Brooklyn Museum: August 11: review
ONE STAR: Ansel Adams: MoMA PS1: September 2: review
Forward Auction Calendar
New auctions added this week in red.
(Sale Date: Sale Title: Auction House: link to catalog)
No previews at this time.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
John Baldessari, Installation Works: 1987-1989 @Goodman
Comments/Context: This show takes us back to the late 1980s, to a focal point in the long artistic career of John Baldessari. In the earlier part of that decade, Baldessari's multi-part photocompositions of film stills and found photographs had been critically well received, and the conceptual underpinnings of appropriation and mediated viewing which had been so much a part of the CalArts way of thinking were becoming more broadly accepted. By the end of the decade, Baldessari had started to experiment with larger installations of these multi-part works, extending and expanding the way they were presented. The three works on view here provide a snapshot of that particular period of time, and highlight how Baldessari was challenging conventional notions of viewing space.
More generally, the innovations that Baldessari introduced with these installations are lastingly fresh, and in many ways, not enough contemporary photographers have internalized the radical ideas embodied in them. Perhaps the new challenges and opportunities offered by installations of digital imagery will rekindle an interest and appreciation for these smartly original constructions, as there are still plenty of photographic lessons to be learned from the way these artworks have been imagined.
Collector's POV: The photographic installations in this show are priced between $1000000 and $1300000. Baldessari's work has become more consistently available in the secondary markets for Contemporary Art in recent years. Prices in the past decade for his photo-based pieces have ranged from roughly $10000 to nearly $1 million, with most of the larger multi-part works made since the 1980s routinely fetching six figures. Some of Baldessari's paintings have run even higher, up to $4.4 million in 2007.
Through August 23rd
24 West 57th Street
New York, NY 10019
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Book: Melanie Bonajo, Furniture Bondage
JTF (just the facts): Published in 2009 by Kodoji Press (here). Softcover, 52 pages, with 17 color and 8 black and white images. The book also includes a list of model's names and a short text by the artist. (Spread shots below.)
I like the back and forth instability of this mixed media approach, the alchemy of borrowing from various aesthetic tool boxes. It allows for multiple readings of the imagery and multiple placements within different cultural and artistic frameworks, all with a freshness that only comes from deliberately coloring outside the lines. If we're looking for the next set of photographic disruptions, I'm becoming increasingly convinced that they will come not from within, but from the external friction zones, where chaotic idea recombination like Melanie Bonajo's is the norm.
Collector’s POV: Melanie Bonajo is represented by PPOW Gallery in New York (here), where this body of work was shown in 2009. Bonajo's work has very little secondary market history, so gallery retail remains the best/only option for those collectors interested in following up.
Comments/Context: For the past several months, a vision of contemporary photography as a series of interlocked Venn diagrams has been percolating around in my head. The gist of this thinking is that to a greater and greater degree, we are seeing overlap between previously separate artistic mediums, creating intersections zones where multiple media are mixing in unexpected ways, all of which is then upended by the underlying digital revolution which affects nearly everything. While there is certainly some slower step evolution taking place inside the formal boundaries of the contemporary photography bubble (most of it driven by the ongoing absorption of digital thinking and tools), much of the most drastic artistic mutation that is twisting the medium is taking place in these nether edges, where the rules are looser and the traditions less solidified. To my eye, these radical combination areas are where much of the most creative action is taking place, and where we ought to be paying attention if we want to see where the medium is really going.
Melanie Bonajo's Furniture Bondage series is just the kind of hybrid work I am interested in thinking more about. It brings together photography, sculpture, and performance in almost equal parts, the result being something a little of each but altogether new. Her photographs are images of staged constructions, where anonymous nude female models are tied up and otherwise bound and burdened with a dizzying array of mundane household objects. My first reaction to the works was that they were a little like the precariously balanced found object sculptures of Fischli & Weiss, but with the scaffolding of a human body added to the complex physics equation. With faces turned away or hidden by hair, the bodies become malleable objects, jammed into the space made by a desk chair, tied up with a phone cord, folded into an aluminum ladder, or bent into a wooden shelf unit. They act like center of gravity towers that hold the sculptures together, with any number of additional objects added on or perched on top. In this sense, the bodies are remarkably mute and inert, just one more limp sculptural object in a gathering of textures, colors, and jutting lines.
But if we step back and see these assemblages as performances, an entirely different reading of the works can take place. The female subjects are wrapped up and trapped by their possessions (the bondage motif), literally carrying the heavy load of their stuff. There is an innate physicality to what's going on, a bearing of weight and a contorting of bodies. Without much imagination, these images can be easily connected to a long line of body-based performance artists, both those who explored the limits of the flesh and those who had a more direct feminist angle, the suffocating cleaning products, kitchen utensils, and laundry racks offering biting commentary on traditional gender roles.
And depending on our vantage point, we might simply characterize these works as straightforward photographic nudes, albeit with a conceptual feel. The material objects and additional items surround the sitters like a still life, a mountain of daily clutter giving context and implied narrative to the elegance of the nude form. The photographs might feel equally at home with the witty early 1970s conceptual experiments of William Wegman or Robert Cumming or at the end of a comprehensive nude retrospective, in visual dialogue with a Dada nude from Man Ray, a bondage nude from Araki, and an interrupted windowsill and coffee table nude from Friedlander.
Collector’s POV: Melanie Bonajo is represented by PPOW Gallery in New York (here), where this body of work was shown in 2009. Bonajo's work has very little secondary market history, so gallery retail remains the best/only option for those collectors interested in following up.
Transit Hub:
Monday, July 22, 2013
Ansel Adams: The Politics of Contemplation @ MoMA PS1

Comments/Context: Roughly a decade ago, the Ansel Adams at 100 show blanketed the nation, making stops in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York (along with a few foreign venues as well), and basically set the permanent standard for Adams scholarship. It was a comprehensive, chronological, and exhaustively researched retrospective, with plenty of surprises and treasures. I particularly remember seeing multiple prints of the same iconic images from different decades, showing how Adams' printing style had evolved over time. With this show as a singular example but just one of many great Adams exhibits over the years, it's hard to imagine that there is anything more to say about Adams that hasn't already been said better by someone else previously. And yet, the curators of this small show stepped up to that challenge and tried something radical, their approach bringing an entirely fresh perspective to Adams and his work.



Collector's POV: Since this is a museum show, there are, of course, no posted prices. Adams' work is ubiquitous at auction, with dozens of prints and portfolios coming up for sale every season. Given large edition sizes, some of the prints are still very affordable (finding buyers for a few thousand dollars) while large vintage images of iconic works routinely stretch well into six figures (a few as high as $600-700K).

Transit Hub:
- Features/Reviews: Daily Beast (here), NY Times (here), Village Voice (here), Haber's Art Reviews (here)
Ansel Adams: The Politics of Contemplation
(part of EXPO 1: New York)
Through September 2nd
MoMA PS1
22-25 Jackson Avenue
Long Island City, NY 11101
Friday, July 19, 2013
Book: Daido Moriyama: Sunflower
JTF (just the facts): Published in 2011 by Match and Company (here). Hardcover, 88 pages, with 64 black and white images. The photographs included were taken between 1965 and 2009. There are no essays or texts. (Spread shots below.)
Comments/Context: Daido Moriyama's photographs of flowers aren't like most floral pictures. They aren't intricate botanical specimens, up-close geometries, or bright blossoms captured at the peak of their freshness and beauty. Moriyama's flowers are much darker and edgier, turning floral innocence into something alternately sultry, menacing, decaying or decidedly urban. This book brings together a broad sample of Moriyama's flowers, taken over four prolific decades, offering a subject matter-based view into his singular aesthetic.
This edit applies perhaps the loosest possible definition of "floral" to the photographs that have been included here. While there are a handful of single images of sunflowers, roses, hydrangeas, tulips, and the like, as well as some wider shots of fields and cherry trees, for the most part, Moriyama has avoided straight-on floral portraits. Instead, his flowers are found in the flow of daily life, in bursting bouquets wrapped in plastic and tin foil, reflected in shop windows, and discarded in dingy gutters and alleys. They are often seen in flash lit glare, looming out of the surrounding darkness with out of place, tactile seductiveness.
Moriyama's restless eye for the contrast between flowers and their surroundings extends in all directions, from printed floral clothing and tawdry motel furnishings to funeral wreaths and elaborate tattoos. Patterned blouses and skirts, swimsuits and shoulder bags all add a pop of flower power to an otherwise shadowy world, while bedspreads, curtains, and worn carpet with floral prints add a touch of faded energy to empty rooms. Hints of floral motifs show up in even more subtle and unexpected places in Moriyama's world, in lace lingerie and underwear and on ironwork benches and shop awnings. Even fireworks, dancefloor confetti, and nighttime snowflakes become vaguely floral when seen from the right angle.
The best of Moriyama's flowers have a lush eroticism that feeds on his dark palette; whether literal or figurative, they have a lurking sense of knowing danger or spent beauty. Even the cheapest and ugliest of his flowers have some seedy come hither attraction, trading pure elegance for something a little grittier.
Collector’s POV: Daido Moriyama has been a prolific book maker, and the specialized secondary markets and photobook auctions are routinely stocked with vintage rarities for deep pocketed collectors. Morimaya's photographs have also become more widely available at auction in recent years, with print prices generally ranging from $2000 and $40000.
Transit Hub:
Comments/Context: Daido Moriyama's photographs of flowers aren't like most floral pictures. They aren't intricate botanical specimens, up-close geometries, or bright blossoms captured at the peak of their freshness and beauty. Moriyama's flowers are much darker and edgier, turning floral innocence into something alternately sultry, menacing, decaying or decidedly urban. This book brings together a broad sample of Moriyama's flowers, taken over four prolific decades, offering a subject matter-based view into his singular aesthetic.
This edit applies perhaps the loosest possible definition of "floral" to the photographs that have been included here. While there are a handful of single images of sunflowers, roses, hydrangeas, tulips, and the like, as well as some wider shots of fields and cherry trees, for the most part, Moriyama has avoided straight-on floral portraits. Instead, his flowers are found in the flow of daily life, in bursting bouquets wrapped in plastic and tin foil, reflected in shop windows, and discarded in dingy gutters and alleys. They are often seen in flash lit glare, looming out of the surrounding darkness with out of place, tactile seductiveness.
Moriyama's restless eye for the contrast between flowers and their surroundings extends in all directions, from printed floral clothing and tawdry motel furnishings to funeral wreaths and elaborate tattoos. Patterned blouses and skirts, swimsuits and shoulder bags all add a pop of flower power to an otherwise shadowy world, while bedspreads, curtains, and worn carpet with floral prints add a touch of faded energy to empty rooms. Hints of floral motifs show up in even more subtle and unexpected places in Moriyama's world, in lace lingerie and underwear and on ironwork benches and shop awnings. Even fireworks, dancefloor confetti, and nighttime snowflakes become vaguely floral when seen from the right angle.
The best of Moriyama's flowers have a lush eroticism that feeds on his dark palette; whether literal or figurative, they have a lurking sense of knowing danger or spent beauty. Even the cheapest and ugliest of his flowers have some seedy come hither attraction, trading pure elegance for something a little grittier.
Collector’s POV: Daido Moriyama has been a prolific book maker, and the specialized secondary markets and photobook auctions are routinely stocked with vintage rarities for deep pocketed collectors. Morimaya's photographs have also become more widely available at auction in recent years, with print prices generally ranging from $2000 and $40000.
Transit Hub:
Thursday, July 18, 2013
The Checklist: 7/18/13
Current New York Photography Shows
New reviews added this week in red.
(Rating: Artist/Title: Venue: Closing Date: link to review)
Uptown
TWO STARS: William Eggleston: Met: July 28: review
Midtown
ONE STAR: Oliver Gagliani: Gitterman: August 9: review
THREE STARS: Bill Brandt: MoMA: August 12: review
ONE STAR: XL: MoMA: January 6: review
Chelsea
ONE STAR: Laurel Nakadate: Leslie Tonkonow: July 26: review
TWO STARS: Takuma Nakahira: Yossi Milo: July 26: review
ONE STAR: Under My Skin: Flowers: July 27: review
ONE STAR: Rebecca Norris Webb: Ricco Maresca: August 17: review
SoHo/Lower East Side/Downtown
ONE STAR: Jimmy DeSana: Salon 94 Bowery: August 9: review
Elsewhere Nearby
ONE STAR: LaToya Ruby Frazier: Brooklyn Museum: August 11: review
Forward Auction Calendar
New auctions added this week in red.
(Sale Date: Sale Title: Auction House: link to catalog)
No previews at this time.
New reviews added this week in red.
(Rating: Artist/Title: Venue: Closing Date: link to review)
Uptown
TWO STARS: William Eggleston: Met: July 28: review
Midtown
ONE STAR: Oliver Gagliani: Gitterman: August 9: review
THREE STARS: Bill Brandt: MoMA: August 12: review
ONE STAR: XL: MoMA: January 6: review
Chelsea
ONE STAR: Laurel Nakadate: Leslie Tonkonow: July 26: review
TWO STARS: Takuma Nakahira: Yossi Milo: July 26: review
ONE STAR: Under My Skin: Flowers: July 27: review
ONE STAR: Rebecca Norris Webb: Ricco Maresca: August 17: review
SoHo/Lower East Side/Downtown
ONE STAR: Jimmy DeSana: Salon 94 Bowery: August 9: review
Elsewhere Nearby
ONE STAR: LaToya Ruby Frazier: Brooklyn Museum: August 11: review
Forward Auction Calendar
New auctions added this week in red.
(Sale Date: Sale Title: Auction House: link to catalog)
No previews at this time.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
XL: 19 New Acquisitions in Photography @MoMA
The following photographers have been included in the exhibit, with the number of works on view and image details in parentheses:
- Yto Barrada (1 set of 4 chromogenic color prints, 2004)
- Liz Deschenes (1 chromogenic color print, 2009)
- Robert Frank (7 gelatin silver prints, 1976-1998)
- Paul Graham (21 pigmented inkjet prints, 1981-1982/2011)
- Birgit Jürgenssen (1 gelatin silver print with applied ink, 1972, 1 gelatin silver print, 1976)
- Jürgen Klauke (1 set of 4 gelatin silver prints, 1974-1975)
- Běla Kolářová (4 gelatin silver prints, 1962-1963)
- Lynn Hershman Leeson (3 gelatin silver print, 1974-1978, 1 16mm film, 1978, 5 chromogenic color prints, 1976-1978/2003, 1 silver dye bleach print, 1976, 4 chromogenic color prints, 1975-1976, 1 chromogenic color print, 1977/1999, 1 modacrylic fiber wig, 1 pigmented inkjet print, 1978, 1 offset lithograph, 1974, 1 pigmented inkjet print, 1975/2003)
- Dora Mauer (1 set of 24 gelatin silver prints and graphite on paper, 1972, 1 set of 28 gelatin silver prints and graphite on paper with 1 map, 1979)
- Oscar Muñoz (1 set of 12 chromogenic color prints, 2007/2012)
- Mariah Robertson (1 chromogenic color print, 2012)
- Alan Sekkula (18 dye transfer prints and 7 text panels, 1988-1995)
- Stephen Shore (1 set of 32 gelatin silver prints, 1969/2013, 16 chromogenic prints, 1972-1979/2013, 4 chromogenic prints, 2012)
- VALIE EXPORT (3 gelatin silver prints, 1968/2011, 1 gelatin silver print, 1968, 1 set of 40 gelatin silver prints with pencil and pen on paper, 1968/1973, 1 gelatin silver print with package of cigarettes, 1970/2005, 4 gelatin silver prints, 1972)
All in, this is a summer group show without a theme, a disconnected but high quality gathering of photographs that provide a trail of bread crumbs for those interested in charting the museum's point of view. As always, the new acquisitions look like a delicate balance of reinforcing the core strengths of the collection, following the interests of the curators, and attempting to capture the best of what's new.
Rating: * (one star) GOOD (rating system described here)
Transit Hub:
- Features/Reviews: Opening Ceremony (here)
XL: 19 New Acquisitions in Photography
Through January 6
11 West 53rd Street
New York, NY 10019
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)