So here it is - the show based on a selection of photographers I had written about on this blog. We hung the show in about 5 hours yesterday and the opening is tonight from 6 to 8. (So any readers in NYC please drop by.) The concept I had in my mind was a lively, chock-a-block installation, where everything has its own place in contrast to everything else, and I feel the space is now bursting with energy. So I'm very happy!
Airmail. 2007.
I only posted a single installation shot of Jowhara AlSaud's work (in my Paris Photo report) so here is a little more information to fill you in on another of the photographers who I'll be showing in my new exhibition.
Jowhara AlSaud is a 32 year old Saudi photographer whose photographs combine straight photography and what could almost be described as scrimshaw. She photographs an image that will become her ground and then elaborately and painstakingly carves traced images onto the negative using an array of tools. The foreground figures are all family and acquaintances sometimes photographed by Jowhara and sometimes using found photographs, but their facelessness is a commentary on censorship in Saudi Arabia and its relationship to visual communication.
I found the work immediately striking without knowing the full meaning, but I find this often happens with me. In my experience good work frequently communicates itself viscerally before revealing more subtle and complex meaning, and what appealed to me first was simply the resonance of the airmail border combined with the graphic illustration.
AlSaud explains the work and her intentions so well in her artist statement I'll let her speak for herself, but illustrated are the two prints we'll have up on the wall in our "The Year in Pictures" show. (They're worth clicking into to see larger.)
Artist Statement:
This body of work began as an exploration of censorship in Saudi Arabia and it's effects on visual communication. While there is a lack of consistency from region to region, overall, images are highly scrutinized and controlled. Some superficial examples of this would be skirts lengthened and sleeves crudely added with black markers in magazines or blurred out faces on billboards.
I tried to apply the language of the censors to my personal photographs. I began making line drawings, omitting faces and skin. Keeping only the essentials preserved the anonymity of my subjects. This allowed me to circumvent, and comment on, some of the cultural taboos associated with photography. Namely the stigma attached to bringing the “personal portrait”, commonly reserved for the private domestic space, into a public sphere.
It became a game of how much can you tell with how little. When reduced to sketches, the images achieved enough distance from the original photographs that neither subjects nor censors could find them objectionable. For me, they became autonomous, relatable, pared down narratives.
I've always been interested in how photography functions, and I try to undermine any documentary authority it may possess as a medium. I've always felt that a photograph functions more like a memory, in that it's a singular perspective of a split second in time, entirely subjective and hence impressionable. By etching these drawings back into film and printing them in a traditional darkroom, I'm trying to point out how malleable it is as a medium, even before digital manipulation became so advanced and accessible. With these interventions emerges a highly coded and self-reflexive language. What also interests me is that the information omitted (faces, skin and emulsion) creates an image of its own, as do the censors to our cultural landscape.
Golden. 2009
I am putting this picture in after multiple requests from my brother, Danny, a regular reader of this blog. The reason I didn't put it in when he first sent it was because as astounding a meteorological phenomenon as it is, the picture didn't have that certain je ne sais quoi that makes me snap to. It's a little flat. But I don't want him to feel bad, and so I'll let the readers tell me whether it was worth posting.
FYI - this picture, taken in January 2009 at Las Olas Beach in Maldonado, Uruguay, shows a rare roll cloud. These clouds form when a downdraft from an advancing storm front causes moist warm air to rise and then cool below its dew point. When this happens uniformly along an extended front, a roll cloud may sometimes form.
Approach Lights #4. 2006
Tsukasa Yokozawa is an interesting story. As a Japanese postman, Yokozawa was much taken with the concept of distance, and as a novice photographer this became the idea he wanted to explore. Beginning in 1999, he began to photograph different Japanese cities by day and night, but from enormous distances with a very long lens. This night view of Hiroshima, for example, was taken from a mountain top several miles away.
Yokozawa not only gave up postal work for full time photography, but before long began to teach photography. Just over a year ago he was given a grant by the Japanese government to come to New York to photograph and make a name for himself (and Japanese photography). His New York series continues his interest in distance but adds to it what he sees as the particularly New York phenomenon of parallel living and lives. Below you will see some of his New York work as well as more of his earlier Japanese pictures. (The pictures of mid-town Manhattan were taken from Brooklyn!)
He is also the last photographer I am adding to the forthcoming Danziger Projects show based on work featured in this blog. The show, not surprisingly called “The Year in Pictures”, opens on January 21 and includes 15 young photographers plus a tribute to the four major photographers and two muses who passed away last year. I’ll parse out details for now, but save the date and if you’re anywhere near Chelsea, the festivities will run from 6 to 8 p.m. on the 21st.
From the series "Parallel Lives". 2009
From the series "Parallel Lives". 2005
On White #1. 2002
Spilt Milk #2. 2001
On the Margin. 1999
One of the many reasons I'm addicted to the print version of The New York Times is the pleasure of being surprised by the terrific photographs that unexpectedly show up, often quite randomly. (And which you would never find online.) This photograph of Edie Sedgwick was taken by Factory resident documentarian Billy Name while Warhol was filming Sedgwick's "screen test". It ran in Saturday's paper to illustrate the sorry tale of how Name's negatives have gone missing. The story was written by culture writer Randy Kennedy who is building up quite a collection of oddball stories of lost archives, forgotten artists, and other curiosities. Just type his name into the Times' website search box.
With all the current fuss about photoshopping in magazines, let's not forget that these special effects can often be used well. Case in point, this Evian commercial!
With all the year and decade end reflection going on - most of which I’m finding pretty depressing - I‘m going to make my annual top ten list about the things I’m looking forward to in the year ahead. I’ll start with shows I’m planning.
1. (Above.) Viviane Sassen. Opening in March, I’ll be doing the first U.S. show of work by Viviane Sassen. A Dutch photographer who grew up in Africa, Sassen has long been a highly regarded fashion photographer in Europe. However, starting several years ago, Sassen returned to Africa and began making collaborative portraits with people she met on her travels. Mysterious, colorful, and complex, these works are like visual haikus – compact, poetic, and resonant.
2. Annie Leibovitz. (Opening in April.) Whatever has been going on in her life, Annie Leibovitz not only remains but reigns as the number one portrait photographer in the world. Over a career that has now spanned four decades, Leibovitz’s work has deepened along with her color palette and time has allowed us to see her as a major colorist and conceptualist and the key photographer of her era.
3. AIPAD. Having had a terrific fair at Art Basel Miami Beach, I’m looking forward to participating in this March’s AIPAD Photography Fair in New York. Every fair if done properly should be more than just an assemblage of greatest hits. A booth should make a statement. And while I have to admit I haven’t yet figured out what I’m going to be doing at AIPAD, the journey is half the fun.
Susan Derges. Gibbous Moon Cloud, 2009.
4. Brits. I’ve enjoyed following the work and renewing my ties with a number of British photographers over the last year – in particular Susan Derges, Christopher Bucklow, Richard Learoyd, and Tim Walker. I’ve also had the chance to meet two of the photography curators at the Victoria and Albert Museum – Martin Barnes and Susanna Brown – who are both bursting with ideas and as opposed to their U.S. counterparts enthusiastically looking at and showing good new work. There’s something particularly energetic and positive in the London air right now - and I’m looking forward to bringing as much of it as possible back to the States.
5. Jim Krantz. (Opening Fall ’10.) Krantz was one of the original Marlboro photographers whose work was appropriated by Richard Prince for his famous series of images of cowboys. This fall we’ll be turning the spotlight back on Krantz who you’ll see is a uniquely talented photographer. Unlike the Manny Garcia/Fairey situation, however, in this case both Krantz and I feel (to different degrees) that Prince’s work was more insightful and legitimate. So rather than picking a fight with Prince, we would rather accept his homage and take the opportunity to educate people about the source.
6. A time for healing. If you feel the 00s were one sick decade, I’d like to propose the 10s as a decade of healing. Starting with healing oneself – get in shape physically, fiscally, emotionally, professionally and let this work its way out exponentially. It’s clear that just about every system has failed - from the safety of our food, to travel, the financial system, and on a macro level - the ecology of the planet and hope for peace. So here’s to proposing that if everyone tries, we can begin to reverse things just a little!
7. Magazines. The relationship between photography and magazines has been one of mutual nurture and creativity for almost a hundred years. Now that we’re firmly in the world of new technology, let’s hope that either the new or old media companies can find a way to be profitable and continue to be the vital link between art and commerce.
8. Digital photography. Now that we’re firmly in the digital age, let’s stop grousing about the death of film, continue to improve the quality of digital cameras, and get serious about easy ways to archive our snaps so that we can replace drawers full of old snaps and outdated hard drives with reliable and accessible image retrieval.
9. Documentaries as entertainment. Two of the films I most enjoyed seeing in cinemas this year were “Every Little Step”, a documentary following the casting of the revival of “A Chorus Line”, and “The September Issue” the documentary that followed the making of VOGUE’s biggest issue ever. If movie companies and filmmakers continue to broaden the range of subjects covered in feature length documentaries, my hope is that we can enter a new golden age of intelligent and entertaining film going.
10. Blogs. Many of the year end summaries in newspapers talked about the growing influence of blogs and bloggers and their effect in the real world. Happy to hear this! And to do my part in taking it to the streets, opening on January 21, I will be putting on a full five week long show of selected photographers whose work I’ve featured on this blog. So stay tuned and Happy New Year to all!
Milton Rogovin by Alec Soth. 2004.
Sometimes life gets in the way of the art. This is one of the few plausible explanations of why Milton Rogovin, who turns 100 today, is not more widely know or celebrated than he is. I have been lucky enough to represent Milton’s work for the last few years and have put up a show that re-opens next week and runs through January 16. If you don’t get a chance to see it in person, I hope you’ll check out all the pictures on the Danziger Projects website. (Click here to view.) Hopefully you’ll see why he’s such a photographer’s photographer – a particular favorite of Alec Soth and Tanyth Berkeley amongst many others.
Rogovin’s pictures consist almost entirely of portraits of workers and the working class. His prints are nearly all a modest 8 x 10 inches – a size that suits his commitment to activism above art world recognition and his dedication to social issues, most notably the plight of the miners around the world; the decline of the American steel industry, and the struggle of the working people of his home town of Buffalo, New York.
This is not to say Rogovin is unknown. In 2007 he received ICP’s prestigious Cornell Capa Award and his work is in the collection of most major museums, but it would be fair to say he’s not a household name.
Deceptively straightforward, Rogovin’s photographs reveal a personal style that up-ends the usual balance between a great photographer and the subject. While most masters of photography wittingly dominate the picture, in Rogovin's work the subject commands equal strength. The photographic style is deadpan. The camera simply provides a stage for his subjects to present themselves as they see fit. Rogovin trusts them and their ability to present themselves as the unique individuals they are. Whether because of his respect and empathy for his sitters or the sincerity of his humanism and politics, this seemingly simple concept re-addresses the delicate balance of power between the observer and the observed.
Still healthy at 100 years old, Milton is celebrating his birthday with friends and family in Buffalo. So let’s salute an artist without artifice, a democrat of the darkroom.
Happy Birthday Milton!
For the last five years, Danish photographer Thomas Bangsted has been creating these chaotic, strange, and memorable images. What I like about Bangsted’s work is that it seems so painterly in the way it evolves. Unlike most contemporary photographers Bangsted does not work in series – each work is quite unique, has its own size, and its own character. This does not mean I’m against seriality, but the non-seriality of Bangsted’s work is just one of its distinctive characteristics.
I’m not sure if there’s anything particularly “Danish” about the work (many of the pictures were taken in America and England). Unlike Dutch or German photography which seems to be flourishing, I'm not aware of a school of Denmark – but there is a distinctive grey light to Bangsted’s work and a moodiness that would not be out of place in a contemporary production of a play about that other famous Dane.
A little Dutch humor. Photographer Jaap Scheeren, one of the contributors to "Dutch Seen" at the Museum of the City of New York, devised this pseudo scientific experiment in collaboration with fellow artist Hans Gremmen. It's a little difficult to follow exactly what it's all about, but whatever it is, I found it quite compelling! In Gremmen's words:
Is it possible to create a three dimensional colour separation? That was the question that triggered us (photographer Jaap Scheeren and me) to start this experiment. A bouquet of fake flowers was arranged as starting and striving point. The next step was to create four still lives of this bouquet: one in Cyan, one in Magenta, one in Yellow and one in Black. These still lives were photographed and merged into one image. In theory this should have been the same as the starting point, but in practice it became “Fake Flowers In Full Colour”.
First card in was from Magnum Photos with a large selection of Xmas and winter themed photos from which I've selected my favorites. Strangely for Magnum no credits were attached. I believe the one above is by Leonard Freed and was taken in 1958 which makes it pre-date Mario Giacomelli's famous series of student priests playing in the snow. The one of the inflatable Christmas figures behind a fence is by Martin Parr. Other than that we will have to make this a guessing game. The last picture in my edit is of two brothers meeting at Christmastime in 1963 after being separated for years by the Berlin Wall. The moment was captured by Ian Berry.
With a gallery owner, an editor in chief, and a teenage daughter in the family, it's never easy to find a Christmas card everyone agrees on. This year proved particularly challenging as my daughter's braces came off a week ago requiring a new visual. However, thanks to the trusty (albeit focus challenged) iPhone and the Matt Umanov guitar store on Bleecker Street where my son was trying out banjos, we came up with this e-card that everyone was happy with.
The family picture Christmas card seems a particularly American tradition. I think Europeans find it a bit embarassing - either deludedly self-promoting or too personal, but I think it's nice to see how people's kids are growing up or how Mom and Dad look hiking in Yosemite!
Our best card photographically had to be a picture of the kids taken by The Sartorialist a couple of years ago but he's been so busy with his book tour there was no chance of that this year.
Clearly the photos above are no great shakes aesthetically, but as the readership of this blog is a photographic one, send in your Xmas card photos to jd@danzigerprojects.com and I'll post a selection.
Happy Holidays!
J&J (&J) by The Sartorialist. 2007.
I guess I'll have to be content with being the first gallerist with a blog as the Fraenkel Gallery have beaten me to it on being the first gallery with an iPhone app. Congratulations to them.
On their app you can see current and future exhibitions, explore the work of gallery artists, order gallery publications, and find your way to the gallery via Google maps.
For the free download click here:.
After my experience last week of nearly touching the moon (or at least a piece of moon rock) I had almost given up on the chance to touch a miracle - when a woman in the park told me about a pair of cloned puppies who occasionally showed up in Central Park in the spot where our dog, Jenny, sometimes runs off the leash. A couple of days later, the dogs appeared, and while they were not very co-operative in posing together, they were indeed quite miraculous. A nearly identical pair of female twins (clones can only be the same sex) they were normal in every way, although according to their dog walker (below) they acted somewhat older than their age of 6 months.
I did, of course, pet them - reflecting on the many things that have occurred during the last few years that have changed our life in both small and large ways. I don't mind the idea of cloning beloved pets. There are not many medical, technological, or scientific breakthroughs that I have a problem with. But I'm still thinking about what the change from analog to digital photography means to us. What's worse? The drawers stuffed full of old snapshots or the outdated computers with pictures that have not been transferred or stored properly? What's better? The carefully assembled family album, or the beautifully organized iPhoto library? What do you think?
