A much better day for it than the last time we did this. Both boys being old enough to have opinions meant that we spent most of this trip negotiating a jointly-acceptable tree. Also, where our tree two years ago turned into a spider tree as soon as it warmed up inside, this year our tree ended up being full of woolly bear caterpillars.
When I was kid one of my favorite things was exploring my grandmother’s house and looking at all the old stuff in the backs of office drawers. Most of it was junk to me but every once in a while I’d find something cool—typically old coins.* While these were always welcome I was much more interested in baseball cards.
*This should probably be its own post but among the wheat sheaf pennies, buffalo nickels, and Mercury dimes were some pretty cool finds both in terms of old US coinage as well as interesting international coinage.
Much to my dismay there never any sports ephemera. I knew that neither my dad nor my uncle collected cards but I always held out hope that they’d accumulated even a dozen or so anyway. No dice. Then one day I pulled out a pile of paper and two 1.75″×3.75″ cards fell out. I still remember getting goosebumps. They weren’t worth anything much—two 1917 Zeenut commons—but for a kid whose oldest card was a 1960 Topps* just having any baseball card that old was exciting as all hell.
I hadn’t thought much about those cards until SABR Baseball Cards’ recent Johnny Lindell post reminded me. In the over two dozen years since I found them I have a lot more resources to figure out what they are and who they depict. So that’s turned into a fun day of poking around the web.
Del Baker turned out to be pretty simple. The Seals were a stable franchise which never moved or changed names until the Giants came to town in 1958. And Baker was not just a catcher for the Detroit Tigers but went on to manage them to the 1940 pennant. This card is from his only season in San Francisco although he later ended up playing in Oakland.
I also found it interesting that he stayed in the game long enough to get his own Topps baseball card in 1954. While 1903 is the beginning of modern baseball history there’s something about how integration with Jackie Robinson in 1947 and Topps baseball cards becoming a thing five years later produced a game which feels much more familiar to me than anything pre World War 2.
Bert Whaling meanwhile was a lot more work. First, the spelling variation in his name meant searching for “Walling” got me nowhere and I needed help in order to find him. Second, he only played for Vernon in 1916, not 1917 and his career wasn’t particularly noteworthy. Still it was cool to find out that he also played a few seasons for the Boston Braves.
What was more interesting was finding out about the Vernon Tigers. Unlike the Seals, the Tigers are an example of the way that franchises were moving around all the time. They started off in Vernon (and Venice) because those were the only wet cities in otherwise-dry Los Angeles County. Once Prohibition hit there was no reason to be in Vernon so they moved to San Francisco and become the Mission Reds—taking the place of the San Francisco Missions who had previously moved to Salt Lake City. That didn’t work out so they moved back to Los Angeles and became the Hollywood Stars—replacing the previous Stars who had moved to San Diego.
The view from my office. I only seem to take this photo when it’s snowing as it’s otherwise a pretty boring view of the driveway into the parking garage. But when the light is on and it’s too snowy for anyone to drive? Maybe, just maybe, I’ll catch a glimpse of Mr. Tumnus.
I went to Jersey City specifically to see the Han Youngsoo exhibit. But since ICP at Mana is part of Mana Contemporary, I figured I should budget enough time to see everything else which Mana had to offer. I’m glad I did.
Mana isn’t a museum per se. It’s an art center which offers everything from studio space to storage to crating service. The only way to see it is via a guided tour which takes you through the old tobacco factory, its industrial freight elevators, and other machinery remnants.
Most of the art in display is the collection of the Ayn Foundation. Very much like Pier 24 and the Pilara Foundation, Mana’s exhibitions are a way of taking art which would normally be hidden in storage and putting it on some level of public view. Ayn and Pilara are actually very similar in how their collections are extensive and show complete sets of a series rather than a single piece. It’s fantastic to be able to see how an artist worked through a concept and the more collections and installations I see which do this kind of thing the more annoyed and distrustful I am of exhibitions which feature a single piece without context.
The bad side of the similarities—aside from having hours which make it nigh-impossible for anyone who works a real job to be able visit—is how there’s a similar lack of context and explanation both in the scholarly content of the shows and in the reason why the collector purchased the pieces. As a viewer I have to bring a lot of my own knowledge to the exhibitions and make my own connections. This can be wonderful and freeing but I really do like to learn about why things are being displayed the way they are.
The tour though is good. Because of the nature of the space I suspect that it’ll always be a small group (just me and one other person plus our guide) and as such it’s not a docent “let me describe this” kind of tour but instead a “let’s check out this space and I’ll give you a brief intro and feel free to ask me any questions as you take as much time as you want” thing. There’s still a bit of external pressure to keep things moving so, while I did get to check out Han Youngsoo on the tour, I went back later* to go through a second time at my own pace.
*ICP has independent hours from the rest of Mana and does not require a tour.
The Arnulf Rainer pieces are either vibrantly-overpainted religious images or cross-shaped canvases with similar painting. My tour guide insisted that Rainer didn’t see them as inherently religious but I’m not sure I completely buy it. They are a lot fun but the real draw is the room. It’s a huge space which, based on the overhead crane, used to be for loading and unloading. Now, with the white gallery walls and high ceiling, it feels like a chapel.
Aside from the lack of light, the pieces work perfectly in the space. Yes, they’re religiousish but here they also suggest how the language of religion works architecturally to suggest that we should be pensive and quiet and respectful.
The Warhol room was a ton of silkscreen prints—many of which are the iconic ones of Marilyn Monroe, Mao, and the Flowers. It was wonderful to see so many prints from the same series together. All too often there’s only one or two; here there are like nine or ten.
As a print geek I loved being able to closely study how he changed things between editions. It’s not just playing with color. Sometimes a screen will be double struck. Other times a screen is omitted. Othertimes it’s flipped or rotated. Seeing the different combinations is a joy and reminded me of what Vlisco was doing. I wish that I knew the order in which they were printed because it would be awesome to learn how Warhol progressed through color and screen variations.
This exhibition also included a number of Warhol prints which I’d never seen before. His darker material—not just the skulls but the Sing Sing electric chair—was particularly striking. And his most-recent prints of the sunsets as well as his abstract diamond dust shadow prints were also unlike any other Warhol’s I’d seen. The diamond dust ones in particular play with texture in a way that expanded my understanding of silkscreening. Many of the prints include solid color sections which consist of three or four different hits of the same color of ink. Not all the hits use the same screen though and the different thicknesses of ink create a textures surface to the print.
I’m familiar with John Chamberlain’s sculptures of twisted metal. I had no idea about his photography. He’s a Widelux junkie* and his photos are just a ton of fun. A lot of them are playing with the distortion capabilities of the swing lens. While this is the kind of thing which could easily become a trite gimmick, in Chamberlain’s hands the resulting images look a lot like his sculptures.
*The most famous of which may be Jeff Bridges. God damn do I want a book of his photos.
His series of vertical selfies meanwhile is goofy and a good reminder that panoramas don’t have to be horizontal. They suggest a more casual project and are a nice reminder that not everything an artist works on has to be high-concept.
The worst part of this room is that now I want a Widelux—or at least a Horizon—more than ever.
In the basement of the Mana building are a ton of artist studios as well as a number of artist residencies. The result is a casual art/work space with a number of improvised exhibition spaces. Surface was one such exhibition and consisted of taking GIF artists and giving them the opportunity to create animations for a gallery setting.
The results are interesting—some hits and, as you have to expect with contemporary art, some misses—but the whole show is quite charming. These are artists who typically do not make physical things and so seeing their first forays into a physical, interactive space reminded me of being in school and experiencing the joy of making your first physical art object.
I particularly liked creating a whirlpool with a spinning stir magnet instead of screwing around with pumps and plumbing. I also enjoyed how Matthias Brown’s piece involved projected animation interacting with static images which he’d painted on the screen itself.
Another residency/exhibition is Apostrophe NYC* in the Mana BSMT. This is a dozen or so artists working together, making their own art, but also sharing a space and bouncing ideas off of each other. While their art is neat, I most-enjoyed poking my head into their studio spaces, seeing how they create things, and what kinds of random stuff they have up on their own walls.
*Who got a bit of press last year for their guerrilla Whitney show.
It’s been a long time—too long—since I’ve been in a space like this* and I’m glad I had the opportunity to take the tour. I’ll definitely be looking forward to future ICP shows as an excuse to head back to Mana. And who knows, maybe Mana will put a show together which could drag me out there as well.
*The Product Design loft at Stanford was a similar space—as was the machine shop where we all made our projects.
I saw tweets about ICP’s Han Youngsoo show at Mana Contemporary and the photos looked good enough to pique my interest. So I made my way up to Jersey City just to visit ICP and had my fingers crossed that the show would be worth the trip.
It totally was.
It’s not a huge show but what’s on display are examples of how fantastic good street photography can be.* The photos are strongly composed and beautifully seen. The prints blow away all the digital images on the web. Most of the images are strong on their own accord but, when seen as a collective they have a distinct point of view and narrative.
*I have a mixed relationship with street photography. On the web it’s become a bit of a bad brand where—typically—men have chosen to emulate the alpha-male “I have a right to photograph anything in public” mentality and much of what’s presented is a reflection of the photographer’s “daring.” At the same time, street photos are one of the hardest things to do well because of the ever-changing unexpected dynamic on the street and I can’t help but admire people’s ability to get wonderful spontaneous images and capture strangers in what appear to be completely-honest expressive portraits.
They’re beautiful and clever. I love the way that the overhead street car wires end up looking like birds. I love the way the men in the shadows inside the butcher shop mirror the expressions on the pig heads outside. I love the perfect timing in capturing gestures and posture as people walk down the street or gaze at shop windows. I love the textures in the snow that the footprints on the frozen river leave.*
*I couldn’t help but think of Max Desfor’s Pulitzer-winning photo here though.
I love how beautiful Seoul ends up looking despite the ruins and overcrowdedness. At their most-basic level these photos are about a place rather than the people in it. It’s clear that, rather than being photos of people, the actual subject in each photo is Seoul. There’s a palpable sense of love and romance. Seoul is home and Han Youngsoo is sharing how he sees it—what he feels about it—with us.
And it’s a Seoul in transition. The Korean War ended in 1953. These photos cover the period between 1956 and 1963. The city is in the midst of rebuilding as well as westernizing and modernizing. There are still some ruins visible—a shattered roofline here or there but never as the focus of the image. There are english-language signs all over the place. Infrastructure is in a state of flux where streets—when they’re paved—are shared between handcarts and electric trollies. The trajectory is clear.
It’s with the women though—especially their clothing—where the photos tell their most interesting history. These aren’t Winogrand-like photos of women, they’re just conscious of how the changing nature of the city is impacting women in particular. They wear clothing which ranges from hanbok to cutting-edge 1960s fashion. The advertisements and street displays and magazines are all peddling western fashions. Only in one crowded street market is traditional clothing still available.
It’s clear that with the changing fashions that the women’s roles are also changing toward a more middle class direction. And that the city itself is becoming a consumer-based city* of shops and merchants.
*The men don’t show this narrative at all. They all wear western clothing and none of the shops or new consumer goods are marketed for men’s consumption.
I love a great photo as much as anyone but with street photography much of the appeal is how it can document a specific time and place—whether it captures a city and its population in a specific window of time or manages to document how they change. Han Youngsoo’s photos are beautiful but the history and changes he documents is even better