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June 1st, 2002 - The Photo Show
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Much of the time it seems that photography is the ‘second
son’ of art, a distant sibling to painting with less power, less
prestige, less ability to impress us. Yet there are instances when we
would be wrong in that estimation. This show was one of those pleasant
experiences when ones hopefulness regarding the ability of photography
to really reach out and touch us is affirmed.
The small group of artists presenting their photos in this show
were, for the most part, a tightly bound collection in terms of overall
presentation, aesthetic and intention. The photographs themselves ranged
from very recent (Askim and Ballou, who both had work from this year) to
fairly old (Alonzo-Gillock and Macnab). The chronological range was
nice, as it allowed the works to collectively inhabit a larger
contextual space. The notions and intentions of a photo taken in the
70s, such as Alexander Macnab’s Mother
and Child, circa 1970, versus a similar subject taken in the past
year are different and pleasantly engaging.
Despite the general connections of the works in the show, closer
inspection reveals the artists’ idiosyncratic views. Consuelo Alonzo-Gillock’s
small photographs - mostly self-portraits or intimate depictions of her
children – for the most part utilize a murky chiaroscuro, reminiscent
of film noir. A touch of infamy lurks in the depths of her older photos;
strange cinematic-like elements combine to initiate a feeling that the
works deal with a quiet terror, or at least sadness. Her early work Candle
is especially effective. On the other hand there is striking openness to
the works of Glenda Kapsalis. The narrative clarity and slice-of-life
style recall National Geographic photo-essays. Matthew Ballou goes the
other direction, moving from narrative to simple aesthetics. Most of his
works here resemble the body-fascination of Edward Weston or Ralph
Gibson, especially in the simplicity and intimacy of Angle
and Song of Solomon, Chapter 4,
Verses 5 – 7.
While all of the works were respectable, the shining jewel of the
show was Ingrid Askim’s magnificent photography. Her large images
meticulously planned and flawlessly executed are some of the most deeply
rewarding photographs I have ever seen. The attention to detail, the
understanding of subtlety and visual nuance as displayed in these works
mark Askim as a talent beyond her years. All untitled and from this
year, the works take place in abandoned and burned out rooms; the
physical presence of decay is palpable in the photos. In this midst of
these savaged interiors, the artist’s petite figure strikes a potent
foil. It is the contrast of her naked purity to the exposed degradation,
her completeness to the destruction, her warmth to cold, stark
elimination that fulfills the visual context. That she engages the
spaces physically makes the photos almost uncomfortable to view:
porcelain and seemingly fragile, she fingers shattered glass, crouches
in the midst of rotting debris and sits ensconced in an ancient bathtub.
Askim utilizes these contrasts for more than a display of the archetypal
division/coexistence of the concepts of vitality and degradation; she
uses them to establish a psychological ground. A wonderful example of
this psychological ground is that she keeps the environment of her
photographs deathly static while her form is allowed life-like
transience. Yes, in certain images her presence is as still as the room
she poses within, but in most there is a touch of movement, a flash of
the eyes, turn of the head. These distensions between the stark,
inhumane environment and her very apparent human condition, as pictured
in her blurred movements, allow us to empathize fully as viewers. We
identify; we put ourselves in her place. We are compelled to do this
because of the deftness of her emotional presentation conditioned by the
effectiveness of her technical ability.
Askim’s works have an earnestness that flies in the face of
postmodernism’s irony, rewarding the viewer with a fulfillment rather
than a spiteful repudiation. While initially seeming to be cold
treatises of emotional distance, they are instead very powerful tableaus
referencing the human condition in a touching and forthright way. There
is an unabashed openness to the works (making them similar in feeling to
certain of Jock Sturges photos) and a compositional completeness that
runs counter to many of the incidental photographs seen today. Ingrid
Askim gave a wonderful gift to those who saw her work at this show, a
gift of vision and beauty, of dedication and clarity. I for one was very
disappointed in the turnout (or lack thereof) specifically because of
the fact that these photos were on display; Askim’s work demands
inspection and engenders admiration; it is a shame more people did not
get a chance to see it.
All in all this show seemed to me to be the best so far at
Gillock. I believe that the space has felt better in past shows – the
small sizes of the photos displayed the blemished walls and such – but
in terms of content, this show did more than simply delight. It
encouraged, supported and inspired. Good art does that. Here is hoping
for more great shows at Gillock in the future and people enough to fill
the space up. Lawrence Smith
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All content copyright 2003 Consuelo Alonzo Gillock Updated: 11/21/2005 |
