Monuments of Printing II

My trip to Stanford to see Walker Evans was also timed so that I could catch the second part of the Monuments of Printing exhibition at Green Library. The first part was very good. It was more of an exhibition of the evolution of type and printing rather than design and I enjoyed it from a technology point of view. Part two picked up the final bit of type design but quickly got into the Arts and Crafts Movement.

Which is the portion I was really interested in. The older books are interesting—if not beautiful—to look at but they also all contain flaws since they’re still finding their way through the technology. While Stanford calls it the Book Arts Revival, this exhibition shows that it’s really a distillation of everything good from historic book design.

In the same way that I found myself wanting to handle the books on display in the Art of the Book Exhibition, I would love to leaf through the Kelmscott Chaucer or the Doves Bible. We don’t make books like that anymore and these books cry out to be both read and treasured. It’s fantastic to be able to see them in person and really see the craft which went into them. It’s also clear that these books are meant to be more than just for reading. These are books* as devotional objects.

*And by extension, their contents.

Which is a point of view that I’m okay with. It’s obvious in the exhibition is that there is a threshold of importance which must be reached for a text to be considered worthy of publication—Chaucer, Shakespeare, the Bible, and Milton are featured a lot. The books I covet from the Folio Society are all classics like these too.

This makes sense considering how expensive traditional publishing has been. It’ll be interesting to see what happens as publishing dies and books stop being commodities.

Walker Evans

Last weekend I made it out to the Cantor Center in order to see their Walker Evans exhibition. It’s very good—to the point where it also almost feels like a history exhibition rather than an art exhibition. So much of his work is tied up into the greater context of American History that it’s possible to come out of the exhibition just thinking about the time period his photos come from.

What I find interesting is that I don’t get any real sense of empathy in his photographs of people. The photos are flattering in their formality* but they also come across as somewhat intrusive and confrontational. This results in an interesting comparison between his photos in America and his photos abroad where, for once, there isn’t much difference.** I get the sense that even in his travels, he was always a bit of an outsider.

*Reminding me actually of Avedon’s work—specifically his American West.

**Unlike what I see so often where an American photographer travels abroad and takes photos of the 3rd-world natives as if they were specimens to be cataloged.

Evans’s keen formal eye though makes his architecture photographs very interesting. And his series of re-croppings from older negatives shows how he would re-envision a scene and formalize it over and over again.

I can’t help but wonder if the sense of intrusiveness is what prompted his subway photos. Shooting with a hidden camera obviously makes things a lot more unguarded though it doesn’t really address the intrusiveness issue. That the photos work is a testament to the respect with which he treats his subjects—even if they’re unaware.

A lot of people would use a hidden camera* to take photos of people in a way which would mock them. Evans avoids this trap and presents his subjects with a certain dignity. I’m reminded of the way I peoplewatch while riding public transportation—avoid the weirdos and don’t gawk at embarrassing things, instead just watch what’s in front of me and avoid eye contact with everyone else as they do the same.

*Heck, any camera.

The photos I like best are his signage photos—whether it’s his old depression era photos, his 1970s polaroid shots,* or the numerous other signs which exist in the background of many of his prints.** Maybe it’s because I’m a type junkie. But there’s something to the layered crafts and the way that the message changes as signs age, are layered together,*** or have pieces cropped off. I can admire the lettering, signmaking, and photography all together as each component is graphically considered but someone different yet all the pieces come together in the final image.

*These polaroid shots are 40 years ahead of their time and are what kids with instagram are attempting to achieve now.

**I so craved a Coke after looking at this exhibition

***Speaking of which. Would his Broadway print (above) even count as a photograph today?

One last thought/rant. A number of Fortune Magazine spreads are displayed since they contain all the color photography that Evans published. No prints. The wall text says that this is because Evans didn’t print anything while he was alive and so the published magazines represent the only true prints he did. This is a shame and makes no sense to me.

1.  The color photographs are on Kodachrome. Which means that we’re pretty certain what they’re supposed to look like.
2. The published portfolios already tell us which images he selected for publication.
3. Printing from the slides (if available) will look way better than faded CMYK offset printing at 133LPI on yellowing paper.
4. Who says that the photographer has to be the editor? It’s not a problem for Vivian Maier or NASA.

Also at the Cantor

There is a selection of Weston photographs hidden in the Early-modern Europe Gallery. This is also worth seeing. It’s a couple dozen prints roughly organized by texture. Which means that nudes are next to peppers. As they should be.

I’m familiar with Weston’s work more by osmosis than through any conscious study. I suspect that many photographers are the same. Some artists you lean by name and associate with specific things. Others have influence which just creeps into you. Weston is one of those sneaky ones who I’ve absorbed without realizing it. So it’s good to be reminded of this and to consciously see his work.

Rothko

My attempt.

My son’s attempt.

My son wins. Serves me right for doing it with a camera.

Gorilla Girls II

It’s difficult for people to name female artists. In general. Which is why the challenge to name three female artists is still disturbingly difficult for many people. One of the fantastic things about photography is that it’s much more balanced in terms of presenting women as accomplished artists in the medium—to the point that most female artists people think of now happen to be photographers.

At the same time, all is not well. While I was viewing the Francesca Woodman exhibition and thinking about how her work should be required viewing for any teen girl taking self portraits and posting them to flickr/facebook, it occurred to me that every female photographer that I could think of is most-noted for taking photos of people.* And this is certainly true for every female photographer whose work I’ve seen featured in a museum.

*I’d say portraiture but some people define this term to be strictly posed photos. What I’m really talking about are portraits, candids, and street portraits. Obviously, when we get into the street, there’s a huge continuum from posing strangers on the street to just using people as a compositional element. The dividing line for me is probably Garry Winogrand’s Women are Beautiful.

I’ve been thinking about this even more since Eve Arnold’s passing when I noticed that the resulting obits talked about how she was one of the few female photojournalists but noted her most-notable work to be her portraits of Marilyn Monroe.

After further deliberation, I’ve got the following list of art-museum-worthy (as deemed by museums) photographers whose notable work includes a large portion of photos which aren’t about people. I’ve gone ahead and listed what areas they specialize in too.

• Berenice Abbott—architecture
• Hilla Becher—industrial buildings
• Margaret Bourke-White—photojournalism
• Sophie Calle—conceptual
• Imogen Cunningham—botanicals (as well as portraits)
• Fay Godwin—landscape
• Vivian Maier—street
• Lee Miller—photojournalism (and partial credit for perfecting solarisation)

It’s a small list.* I cannot help but wonder why this is. Whatever the reason is, it certainly isn’t a good one.

*If anyone has suggestions for someone I missed, please let me know.

My gut reaction is that we tend to approach women artists the same way we treat other non-white artists—as representative of, and speaking for, their minority group. So, as a result, the work which gains the most acceptance in museums is that which explicitly offers—or which can be framed to offer—a different, female, perspective. There’s nothing wrong with encouraging this perspective* but the idea that it’s the main way for women artists to be presented is completely wrong.

*God knows we need it.

That kind of thinking is not only insulting and pandering but it trivializes artists whose work isn’t about their minority perspective.* Either they get shoehorned into a group to which they do not belong or the get saddled with the “token” label.

*Bringing to mind the Ruth Asawa exhibition at the De Young which kept trying to make it about her being asian and/or female when her work has nothing to do with any of that—unless you think the beautiful mathyness of it all is because she’s asian.

Context

An interesting debate over at the Online Photographer between the context matters*and the context is irrelevant crowds. I agree with both. But I agree more with the context matters people.

*Mike’s post there is a much better version of my Title and Purpose post. Although, unfortunately, the photo itself is hard-pressed to be considered art.

Context does matter. For all art. The idea that a piece of art should stand on its own is an impossibly high bar. What the no-context people miss is that there is always a context. Visiting Pier 24 still means you’re in an art gallery, that someone has selected the pieces in question, and that there’s an implicit commitment on your part to look. So what if there’s no libretto, someone has curated these and you trust them enough to look.

This is very different than seeing things on the web or encountering things randomly in the street.* The medium is the message and your mindset in each situation is tuned in to different things. People spend hundreds of dollars to hear him perform a concert but will completely ignore Joshua Bell if he’s busking.

*Something a lot of photoblogs seem to miss. Collecting photos and displaying them without any comment is not curation. There HAS to be a point of view.

None of this insistence on context should be taken to mean that context is more important that content. This is where I agree with the context is irrelevant people. Almost all the time, it doesn’t matter how interesting the backstory is if the photo itself is beyond redemption. Art is meant to be looked at and experienced. If it fails to engage at all, it’s not successful.