Thursday, December 23, 2010

Pills and Other Colorful Drugs by Stephanie Arocena


Through the collages in his current installation at the Brooklyn Museum, Brooklyn artist, Fred Tomaselli’s intention is “to seduce and transport the viewer in to the space of these pictures while simultaneously revealing the mechanics of that seduction.”[1]
As you stroll through the 5th floor of the Brooklyn museum, you only see white walls until you approach a vivid poster entitled “Big Raven”, which serves as the face of the current show by Fred Tomaselli. “Big Raven” directs you to a huge room filled with illusionistic and colorful images. The image consists of colors such as warm reds and cool blues. The background is mainly red, but the Raven is made of a photo collage of plants and bugs found in nature.
When you reach the show, it’s almost impossible to concentrate on one piece at a time.  A series of collages depicting an optical illusion is the first to hit your eyes.  I moved in close to each image in order to avoid getting motion sickness. As I stepped closer to each one, it was clear that he incorporated all different kinds of media, including illegal substances, particularly drugs, ranging from Advil to Oxycotin to Marijuana.[2]  As I gazed at each piece, I wondered where Tomaselli got his hands on all these pills?  Did he experiment with these drugs as a form of inspiration? It’s clear that he wanted his viewers to feel as if they were experiencing hallucinogens without actually consuming them.
“Black and White All Over” is one of his works that exemplifies this “trippy” feeling.  Both the composition, a series of vertical lines, and the repetition of rows consisting of pills in order of size emphasize this feeling. These collaged compositions are up to three or four layers, consisting of paint, pills, leaves, or a combination, all sealed under a thick plastic-like resin. The optical illusion is created through transparent layers.  After realizing what Tomaselli had created, I looked more closely at each work to see each layer in more detail. It was absolutely astonishing.
In the next room, some pieces from his “Expulsion” series were shown. The “Expulsion” series is quite figurative and references the Bible, incorporating his interpretation of Adam and Eve and the forbidden fruit. The pieces include the same media as the previous works, but incorporate insects and photo collage. Tomaselli creates collages of figures resembling the human form, but which are made up of images that resemble the interiors of the human body. He then proceeds to depict radiating designs composed of natural forms that incorporate various pills.  Such works demonstrate Tomaselli’s obsession with the human figure and nature. One such work in this series, “Fungi and Flowers”, is a composition that has a strong impact. Because of the image’s high level of detail and his skillful line work, it’s hard to differentiate between the photo collage and the actual painting.
Tomaselli is a master of precision.  His human figures are collaged in correct proportion and his color schemes clearly evoke the colors of the human body. He collages thousands of copies of the human eye into a larger scale image of an eye, which is called “the Big Eye”. It really makes you ponder how much time went into copying and cutting all of those tiny human parts out.
The last series is the installation entitled “Birds Eye View” depicting a series of collages incorporating images of birds that were made of tiny collections of pictures of nature. After seeing all of the previous “psychedelic” drug infused pieces, these works were not that impressive.  Although the compositions are exceptionally technically collaged, most don’t demonstrate the same surreal sense of perception that the others provided.  Here his use of pills and other colorful drugs is minimal, but his ongoing obsession with nature remains constant.  The environment the collaged birds are placed in is also different. It becomes more geometric and a more undefined composition. The birds are carefully collaged with various insects and elements of nature, and the painting style is more abstract. The hand-painted trees are not naturalistic, engendering a feeling of sorrow.
There is no doubt that Tomaselli is a master collage artist. In fact, he is so confident in what he does, that in a smaller room towards the far back of the show there is a video in which he demonstrates how he creates these collages. He shows that he derives his images from thousands of catalog clippings and how he organizes them.  Adding some intrigue to an already impressive show, the video invites visitors into the process of how all of these surreal collages were composed.  Tomaselli is shown in the video painting and pouring the resin to create layers upon layers of collage, which might be interesting to other artists who are curious to learn more about the process. “I want people to get lost in the work,” Tomaselli tells us in the video. “I want to seduce people into it and I want people to escape inside the world of the work.”[3]


[1] Wall text, Brookyln Musem, November 2010
[2]  Wall Text, Brooklyn Museum, November 2010
[3] Fred Tomaselli Video, Brooklyn Museum, November 2010

"Fred Tomaselli" is on view at the Brooklyn Museum from October 8, 2010–January 2, 2011.

Generation Lost by Timothy Maxwell

       The “lost generation” is the era of the 80’s to 90’s in which a generation of punk rockers, supermodels, and artists ruled the cultural spectrum. It is also the moment in time captured by documentarian, filmmaker, and photographer, Anton Corbijn in his recent body of work entitled “Inwards and Onwards”. Taking photography back to its basics, Corbijn captures a series of black and white portraits of influential musicians, artists, and actors. According to the photographer, he does not use the help of a crew or lighting team, or even Photoshop.[1] Everything is raw and natural. He wanted to document a moment in each person’s life, representing it in its entirety. In fact, in an interview in New York Magazine Corbijn cautions, “I don’t narrate my photography. …  People can make their own story. It’s the opposite of movies, in a way.”[2] 
          Most of the portraits in the gallery are in a large 100 cm x 100 cm format with minimal lighting that only focuses on each piece, leaving the room in a kind of obscure dimness. All the photos are set within a white border and brown wood frame. The gallery is a white cube; the windows are blocked off from the outside world, enhancing the muted isolation of the space. This set up results in a stark relationship between art and spectator. It exudes an intimate human interaction that subtracts all outlying elements and leaves the viewer free to interpret the image from within his own imagination. In this way, the installation of the work allows you to do exactly what Corbijn intended: to tell your own story.
          The first image to greet you as your enter the room is of fashion designer, Alexander McQueen. The black and white photo was captured in 2007 in McQueen’s London studio, only a few years before his tragic suicide. McQueen is masked, alluding to a sense of ambiguity in the man’s identity, and stripping him of his emotions, only leaving his reputation for talent in the spotlight. Behind him in the photograph, is his inspiration wall of photos and memorabilia, which showcase the premise of his designs. Somehow this dark, poignant photo of the masked McQueen almost foreshadows his demise years later. Setting McQueen as the opening piece to the show introduces a sense of poignancy to this documented historical moment, a theme that is continually expressed throughout the rest of the exhibition.
          Next to the image of McQueen is a portrait of Tom Waits, who was photographed in California in 2004. Corbijn’s use of direct lighting really stands out, and emphasizes the captivating emotion captured on Wait’s face.[3] The juxtaposition between the simplicity of a lackluster background and Wait’s face strengthens the image even more. Corbijn considers Waits to be a dream model because of his mysterious and open-ended persona.[4] Waits’ portrait enhances the reoccurring theme of ambiguity in Corbijn’s photos that the viewer begins to realize as he moves through the exhibition. The story begins to unfold is one that documents the past decade and the people who have contributed in enriching them with their talents.
          The next photo in the series is of Bruce Springsteen, who was photographed on his property in New Jersey in 2005. He appears with his horse in the midst of a snow-covered landscape. The sunlight reflecting off the glimmering white snow is inspiring. Because it is captured in black and white, the outlines of the shapes are emphasized against the white background, creating a strikingly bold effect of dark and light. It almost looks as if the blackness of Springsteen and his horse were artificially superimposed onto the snowy white background.  Such images attest to Corbijn’s talent to capture such a moment without the aid of any digital enhancements.
          As I perused the room, I stumbled upon an image of the infamous supermodel, Kate Moss, captured nearly 15 years ago in New York. Representing yet another mysterious story, she is wearing a mask and a simple white dress. The symmetrical shot enhances her “perfect beauty”, but covering her face with the mask brings about a sense of irony. Corbijn wanted to capture not just her physical beauty, but also the beauty of her confidence, as well as the confident energy she exudes in the room, which he captures in such a simple way. The white dress of “purity” could be interpreted as ironic considering her past escapades. Nonetheless, the lighting and positioning of the photo create an almost angelic feel.
          Following Moss is an image of artist, Richard Prince who was photographed in New York in 2010. In this photo, Prince sits in front of a painting from his “Nurses” series. He has an almost philosophical look of pondering on his face—the clichéd expression of all artists. Of Prince’s work, Corbijn says, "I find Richard’s work … very inspiring … . Him and the painting become a single image."[5] This is particularly evident in the way that Prince is almost camouflaged with the background, an effect Corbijn achieves through his use of the natural lighting source of the daytime light filtering into the room. 
            Corbijn photographed a comical and legendary Iggy Pop in Central Park in 2003. He appears naked in the photo; crawling on the ground in a wild, overgrown area of the park. There is an interesting relationship between the indigenous setting and the naked Iggy Pop crawling about, which according to Corbijn, “comes closest to being a painting.”[6] Ultimately, through its primitive, uninhibited, and ambiguous qualities, this photo perfectly captures Iggy Pop’s spirit.
          Perhaps the most awe-inspiring photo in the series is the one of Lucien Freud. In the photo, the legendary painter is depicted in profile, which is different from all the other pieces in the series. Seeing the profile of Freud’s face gazing into the sunlight is a rather moving experience. It is almost as if the camera captures the exact moment that the artist has come to a revelation for another work of art. Again, the contrast between light and dark enhance the emotion captured on Freud’s face, highlighting the humanism in the subject matter. There’s a bold strength to the image. “I think it’s fantastic for a man to be so obsessed still with what he’s doing,”[7] Corbijn explains, evidencing not only the way in which Freud’s passion is so perfectly captured, but also the passion of the photographer.
         Corbijn brought together some of his favorite pieces to put this collection together. The overarching theme tying all these works together are the concepts of ambiguity and mystery. Each photo tells a story, but it is up to the viewer to discern its meaning. I liked how he presented each photo in black and white, with nearly the same close-up shoot. By doing this, he creates a consistency and regularity to his depictions, resulting in an inspiring series that is rather personal.
          Yet, what is perhaps most notable about Corbijn is that because he is also a filmmaker and a photographer of CD covers, this series is also very market-driven. He uses famous faces as his subjects, rather then anonymous subjects. Even so, because he uses faces we all know, we are able to forge more direct relationships with each image. Significantly, nearly all the subjects he photographs are also artists. He prefers to capture people that create and enrich the world. “There’s an appeal to me in the life of the photographer,” he says. “ … One camera and meeting people. No lights, no assistants, just me taking the photograph. The really simple approach to photography is a great balance to making the films.”[8]
          In opposition to his high-budget Hollywood films, this series is more direct and natural, and is especially notable for the precision of his technique. The relationship between subject and artist is palpable, as Corbijn manages to breathe new life into a lost moment, immortalizing forever the lost generation.


[1] <www.huffingtonpost.com> accessed Dec. 20, 2010
[2] Corbijn, Anton.  "See Anton Corbijn’s Photographs of Springsteen, Iggy Pop, Tom Waits, Alexander McQueen, and Others."  New York Magazine.  4 November 2010.  <http://www.newyormag.com > accessed Dec. 20, 2010
[3] Ibid.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid.

Anton Corbijn, "Inwards and Onwards" was on view at Stellan Holm Gallery from November 5 – December 15, 2010.

Not So Strange After All by Linzi Sestak


         I have been a fan of Mark Cohen’s photography since my early childhood when my father hung Cohen’s “Headless Horseman”, a black and white image depicting three people on horseback with their heads and other body parts cropped from the photo, on my bedroom wall. So when I had the chance to attend the preview of his newest exhibition called “Strange Evidence” at the Philadelphia Art Museum, I was very excited to be able to see the show and meet him.   
            The exhibition contained a total of 50 mostly black and white photographs along with a few color photographs that were done over the past 40 years in and around his hometown of Wilkes Bare and Scranton, Pennsylvania.  However, most of the work in this show is from the 1970’s. In addition to meeting him, I was also fortunate to listen to a short introduction he gave about his work. I was able to briefly discuss his craft with him and found out he is a self-taught photographer who has been taking photographs since the age of 13. I asked him what photographers influenced him during his career and was not surprised to learn that Diane Arbus, Gary WInogrand, and Robert Frank were among his favorites. He mentioned that he prefers to use a wide-angle lens. In many cases he just jumps out of his car and snaps his photo, not focusing his lens in any way.
            Cohen has a very unique approach to his subject matter, in that he gets up closer to his subjects than other artists who photograph candid situations in public places.  At times it looks as if he is standing within inches of the person he is photographing. One of his trademarks is that he does not always photograph his subject’s face. Instead, he zooms into a portion of his or her body, allowing the viewer to only see a hand, half of a body, half of the face, or legs. This really makes his photographs appear eerie. For example, in “Jump Rope”, an image of a young girl in a dress jumping rope in the dark, he zooms in so much that he is able to capture all the details of the action. I love this photo it reminds me of the simplicity of childhood. 
Similarly, “Smoker”, an image depicting an older women smoking a cigarette, is notable for the way Cohen captures his subject’s gestures. Holding a cigarette in her hand, the smoke is drifting out of her mouth.  Bundled in scarves, her hands and face are very wrinkly, the lines of her skin blending in with the flowing smoke. I really enjoyed this image because it captures the decisive moment that the smoke dances from her mouth. Also, “Bubble Gum”, another compelling black and white image, depicts a young girl blowing a massive bubble. Once again Cohen is right on top of his subject, his camera zoomed in tight on the bubble gum that obscures the girl’s face. A giant hand with fingers spread wide hovers over her head. This image is fun because it is not everyday that a big bubble is the center of a photograph.
            Another trend shared by all of his work is his sense of simplicity, and the emotional connection he makes to his audience. He captures everyday objects and people, encouraging his viewers to truly evaluate them, a process that builds a deep connection between the photograph and the viewer.  For instance, “Untitled Photo of a Man”, shot at close range, immediately draws you into the man’s facial expression. The angle of the camera makes his body appear abnormally large, while his face shows years of wear and tear. His eyes are actually quite scary.
            Similarly “Man with Bow Tie”, a classic example of his cropped style, literally looks as if the photo was taken inches from the subject’s face. Also, a photo of a man and women in a skirt and socks is taken from their waist down as they are crossing the street. Cohen takes a simple moment from the everyday and makes us notice it in a new way. I really love these images as they give a totally different perspective on the mundane.
In contrast, “Boy in Yellow Shirt Smoking, Scranton PA” is one of the few color photographs in this collection. It depicts an array of activities around a young boy smoking a cigarette. His mannerisms seem to be playful, and the way he is holding his hand is so eloquently contradicts his crooked grin. He is with four other boys, one eating a red lollipop with a smirk on his face, while another boy in the background is squinting his eyes. All the different facial features and reactions displayed by these young boys imbue the image with character and wit. While much of Cohen’s work gives us a view of ordinary life that can be found in any city, his images make these moments in time appear extraordinary.
            In  “Girl with Baseball Bat” Cohen captures a young, thin girl wearing who has a baseball bat in one hand, and a ball in the other. The photograph appears completely spontaneous. She is caught off guard; he seems to have snapped the shot at such a precise moment so as to perfectly capture what the girl was thinking. You can feel the concentration level she has, as she is getting ready to swing the bat.
            A common misconception is that black and white photography is bland and not very interesting.  However, Cohen exploits the medium to his advantage.  His basic approach with his work really emphasizes everyday activities and human behavioral reactions to those effortless tasks people don’t usually notice. For this reason, he has been called a “street photographer” or a documentary photographer. He is also notable for the “All American” feel of his images, which may stem from his background having grown up in a small Pennsylvanian town. Overall, the most notable and compelling aspects of Cohen’s technique are his use of over flashing, and the imprecise aim of his camera.
As an artist, Cohen’s photographs express that even the most uncomplicated things have much more depth than we first see. What we see in one split second can express many more gestures, movements, and emotions when captured on film. He lives vicariously through his subjects, showing the reactions of an event through other people’s eyes. He seems to view the world as carefree and undemanding, a worldview we all could use a little more of.
            My childhood impression of Cohen’s work was limited to one photograph. I liked his style, but found it strange that the subjects’ faces were not shown in the image. Strange Evidence” gave me the opportunity to see a larger selection of his work, and to realize that his style was not strange at all.

"Mark Cohen: Strange Evidence" is on view at the Philadelphia Museum of Art from October 23, 2010 - March 13, 2011.

Ghosts of the Moors by Michael Basov

          Wuthering Heights is the only novel published by Emily Bronte.[1] Published in 1847 under the pseudonym Ellis Bell (to hide Bronte’s gender), it is often considered to be a classic work of English literature in general, and Gothic literature in particular. A strange melodramatic story about love and betrayal in the cold, isolated Yorkshire moors, it has been analyzed, interpreted and reinterpreted countless times, especially by modern day feminists. It has also inspired many artists, including contemporary fine art photographer Samantha “Sam” Taylor-Wood. Taylor-Wood’s collection of surrealistically haunting photographs entitled “Ghosts”, which is currently being displayed at the Brooklyn Museum, was inspired both by the novel and her own experiences in the frigid Yorkshire moors.[2]
            In some sense the “Ghosts” collection feels out of place in its current location in the museum, which in some ways feels almost like a house divided against itself. On one floor you may find a reconstruction of a Civil War era house; on another, the latest in modern photography. The juxtaposition of historical artifacts with modern art is a bit disorienting, but the museum is versatile and that disorientation quickly fades. A greater reason that Taylor-Wood’s photographs seem out of place is that they are right next to Judy Chicago’s famous installation, “The Dinner Party”, depicting a triangular dinner table with place settings and hand-crafted dinner plates (representing often nameless historical women) that was constructed over several years by a variety of artists. While “The Dinner Party” is large, grandiose, and completely dominates the space, Taylor-Wood’s piece is modest by contrast. A wall text near Taylor-Wood’s work explains the meanings of the earliest and most abstract plates in Chicago’s work. On a cold, dark evening such as the one in which I attended the exhibit, it is possible to hear speakers in yet a third room describing each plate in loving detail. The effect of these jarring juxtapositions is that the solitude presented in each of Taylor-Wood’s photographs is disturbed. They don’t belong here; they feel too squished by this monumental masterpiece which chronicles all the great overlooked women of history.
And, yet, somehow at the same time it does. Taylor-Woods’ exhibit is located at the entrance to “The Dinner Party”, which also serves as its exit. So as you pass Georgia O’Keefe’s place setting at “The Dinner Party” and walk out into the modern day, you encounter Taylor-Wood’s work, which in this setup becomes the end result of the feminist struggle. She takes her place as a modern female artist. Unlike the Primordial Goddess whose name is lost to us, or Emily Bronte who hid her true name, Samantha Taylor-Woods’ name is written for us all to see. In this way her exhibit is positioned in its optimal location.
            As the name “Ghosts” suggests, the exhibition is haunting. The collection is simply a set of somewhat large (43 x 55.5 inch) framed color photographs of the English countryside. They are unedited by the artist. There aren’t any fancy tricks of light or composition. The photographs show the Yorkshire moors as they really are, and that is where their true horror lies. They are completely devoid of any human life. The only animal life is a tiny ram hidden in one of the pictures (they all lack individual names).  The only sign of anything having to do with humanity is a single, broken stone fence, held together not with mortar, but with crude gravity. It is almost as though humans don’t exist in Taylor-Wood’s photographic world. The pictures are perfectly timeless. Nothing betrays their origins, save the technology used to create them. Supposedly they were taken in 2008 A.D. but they might as well have been taken in 1847 A.D., or even 1847 B.C.; there would be no change. The horrifyingly surreal landscape of the Yorkshire moors has remained constant throughout time. The photographs seem to suggest some terrible future for mankind. They seem to predict some silent age when man has been purged from this world, and only a few lone stones will stand as a solemn reminder of the beings that once walked this place. The moors won’t miss them; nothing will remember them. Many artists try to capture man’s fear of desolation, of solitude and abandonment. Taylor-Wood has captured it perfectly. Yet she has done so not through some abstract exaggeration, but with a simple photograph of an ordinary patch of land.
            In terms of formal qualities the collection is quite impressive. All the pictures were taken with high quality Chromogenic photography.[3] I was really impressed by the high quality of the prints, as well as with their compositions and their intimate scale, which really drew me in closer. My only complaint was that there wasn’t even one super large print that I could lose myself in (but galleries rarely display those). Regardless, the prints are of such a high quality, that you can see the individual blades of grass in the foreground. You can see them bend to a mighty and invisible wind. Even the trees are bent by its will. This is no trick of photography. In this terrible world captured by Taylor-Wood’s lens, the trees grow diagonally and in curves; they dare not grow straight. The whole scene looks faded, washed out, and depressed. It is as though the cold has drained the life out of everything. The grass isn’t green, but a pale yellow, like ochre mixed with too much grey. It doesn’t grow uniformly, but in clumps and patches, clinging to the soil lest it be blown away. The sky is eternally overcast. The little world in the frame awaits a freezing rain that may never come. Time never moves in photographs. There are no strong lights and darks, no powerful shadows or bright lights. The clouds render everything a uniform dull shade, as though day and night no longer exist as separate entities.
And then there are the hills. The hills are perhaps the most terrifying thing of all. They are not gentle rolling hills. They are sharp and angular. I am fairly certain that when Taylor-Wood took her photographs she held her camera straight, but I have the feeling that the ground she stood on wasn’t flat. The hills surrounding her seem to change shape at random angles and are inundated with vertical lines. The whole world she captures is skewed at some ungodly angle, which seems to change constantly, and to stretch on forever. There is no end to this nightmarish terrain. It is as if the pictures are telling us the moors have gotten us, and we will never escape.
            Taylor-Wood in fact owns a house in the Yorkshire moors, where these images were taken.[4] It is near the “Top Withens” a ruined farmhouse, which was supposedly the inspiration for the novel Wuthering Heights. To capture the feeling of the novel, Taylor-Wood set out from the farmhouse as if she were a character in the novel. She photographed what she saw, and being in a Gothic novel, she saw only the quiet solitude of nature. Thus the photographs seem ageless and eternal, frigid and lifeless. The wind is a very visible force. The cold is almost tangible. To link the images to the book, Taylor-Wood displays them with quotes from it, which offer the work a feminist interpretation, despite the lack of any obvious “feminine” imagery.
Even the title of the collection, “Ghosts”, betrays a deeper meaning then just recreating the feel of a book. In the prologue of the book, Mr. Lockwood is haunted by the ghost of Catherine. The book then details the events that eventually led up to her death. From this, we can deduce that this exhibit is about her, and the world she lived and died in. The photographs show a life of isolation. The bleak landscape would be constantly visible to any of Wuthering Heights’ inhabitants. It would be all they ever saw, day in and day out, the same pale grass and sickly trees. The wind would howl at them and try to knock them down. The cold would bite at them. There would be no escape from the farmhouse, no matter how beautiful it was. It would ultimately be a prison. Located in the middle of nowhere, in a timeless world, surrounded on all sides by the monstrous hills, kept inside by the bitter wind and the freezing rain, anyone trapped inside Wuthering Heights would be unable to leave of her own will, especially a woman such as Catherine. Cut off from any sort of help, she would always be at the mercy of men, and they too would be cut off from any oversight, free to behave however they chose. In this way, we can see how the photographs show the inescapable prison a woman might be confined to.
More generally, it also shows the inescapable prison all women used to be confined to. Just as “The Dinner Party” demonstrates the oppression of creative women by listing them and giving them names and forms, “Ghosts” shows the historic oppression of all women by showing domestic life as something that was inescapable. It should be remembered that Catherine died in childbirth, a “traditional” duty of women at that time. In truth, many of the characters in Wuthering Heights died of illness. The cold and the wind and the solitude killed them, just like it kills most of the grass and twisted the trees in Taylor-Wood’s images.
In the end, the title of the exhibit might also be a reference to all the characters in the story, as all of them had to die in the end. All of them now haunt the dreary landscape of the Yorkshire moors they were never able to escape in life. This is what makes the whole exhibition so frightening. All the ghosts were unable to escape their lives or avert their destinies, and deep down we’re all afraid that will be our fate, that we will be trapped all alone, in some horrible place with no chance of ever leaving. And even worse, we fear we may already be there.

[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wuthering_heights (accessed Dec. 20, 2010)
[2] Wall notes, Brooklyn Museum
[3] http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/sam_taylor_wood (accessed Dec. 20, 2010)
[4] http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/sam_taylor_wood (accessed Dec. 20, 2010)

Sam Taylor-Wood's Ghosts is on view at the Brooklyn Museum from October 30, 2010–August 14, 2011.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

In the Eyes of the Beholder by Eunil Bae

When visiting the exhibition “John Baldessari: Pure Beauty” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I couldn’t find the entrance, and ended up entering through the exit. As I followed the artworks carefully, I realized that I was going backward through this chronologically arranged exhibition. I decided to start over from the beginning, and I saw the entire exhibition in the right direction. Though it felt different, I was unsure whether it was the order, or the familiarity that made the difference in my newly found appreciation for the work. When I thought about it later, I asked myself if seeing the show “in order” would even matter to a conceptual artist like John Baldessari.  
His earliest work, “Bird” (1962), a painting of an upside-down bird, and one of his most recent ones, “Nose & Ears: Head (with Nose)” (2006), a digitally-printed image depicting a photographed nose superimposed on a face-shaped brown blob, seem to belong to two separate artists. While the former is rather realistic, the latter is very abstracted. I tried unsuccessfully to find similarities throughout his varied body of work; were they mostly abstract or representational? It was hard to tell. For this reason, Baldessari appears to be distinct among his contemporaries.
For the most part, the majority of the works seem to be abstract, aside from some photographs and mixed media works. In the middle of the exhibition are his series of black and white photographs with red, yellow, and green circles on them. In one way, they are abstract, because he mixed several parts from different pictures, and then hid his subjects’ faces using colored circles. It is not always easy to make sense out of all the works because they seem to have little connection to one another. Like a lot of conceptual art, I had to do some background research to fully understand this elusive artist’s intentions, so I promptly ran to the museum’s store to purchase the exhibition catalogue.
Baldessari, who was born and has worked mostly in California, is one of the most influential and prolific conceptual artists alive today. He started out as a painter, but shocked people by literally destroying the works he generated for over a decade. His decision to cremate his paintings followed by a paid obituary in the newspaper in 1970 certainly served as one of the turning points for him and for the public. He called it his “Cremation Project”, and later explained the work, saying he was “getting doubtful that painting equaled art and art equaled painting.”[1] After that, he began to take photographs.
His works always contain a sense of humor, and his approach to language in relation to meaning helped him become a pioneer of conceptual art. “Pure Beauty” focuses on the theme of the gap between painting and photography as media, a theme that has interested Baldessari for the past 40 years.[2] One of his transitional works entitled “Econ-O-Wash, 14th and Highland, National City, Calif.” (1966-68), a snapshot of the local car wash, which was taken without the aid of a viewfinder, was intended to capture an unglamorous image of his hometown. He added a caption under the image that described the location of the car wash, and had it painted by a professional sign painter. In some ways, this work almost seems too simple to really be considered a serious artwork. Because of this, I began suspecting that he might have wanted to denounce photography as an art form altogether. Perhaps it was works like these that eventually led him to deal with the issue of the gap between painting and photography, since it seems to be critiquing both.
This work was also notable for his use of a new technique: using texts and abstract elements with his images. While anyone can take snapshots, he turns them into something more by adding mysterious abstract elements. Interestingly, the image and the text under it remind me of those old Polaroid pictures, under which someone has jotted down a notation about the location and the occasion. The genius in Baldessari’s work is that he captures the essence of everyday life, and stimulates our thinking of what constitutes an artwork.
He hired a sign painter for other works as well, as in “Pure Beauty” (1966-68), which incorporated the text “Pure Beauty” in the middle of a canvas without any images, and “Tips for Artists Who Want to Sell” (1966-68), which literally contains quite detailed—and somewhat ironic—written directions about how to make attractive paintings. While the question of authorship lingers in my mind in works such as these, I have to admit that it is quite impressive that he so fearlessly pushed the boundaries of the medium of painting. His art is not just composed of what is depicted, but also of the idea behind it. 
When Baldessari moved into the unknown terrain of art making in the late 1960s and early 1970s, he was inspired by the works of Ed Ruscha, who helped many artists expand and develop their work into the realm of conceptualism.[3] During this period, Baldessari became obsessed with the edge of the canvas as the most important part of the composition. For example, in “Aligning: Balls” (1972), a work consisting of 42 pictures that contain a ball in different locations, the camera moves into a tight semi close-up of the subject. Focusing on the edge of the composition in such images, he developed the technique of “snapshot edges.” The juxtaposition of these images creates a story of their own because unlike the traditional rectangle frame for painting, none of his photos are properly aligned. As a result, they create snapshot edges, which stimulate the viewer to create his own story related to the ball at the moment. In this regard, the viewer is invited into and instantly involved in the story making process.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the exhibition was Baldessari’s constantly morphing style. In both the aforementioned “Bird” and in “Autotire” (1965), a close-up image of a tire tread, he paints over billboard images, making his pictures almost look like photographs, which reminds me somewhat of the photorealist style of Richard Estes. However, it also seems that he was already interested in the relationship between meaning and image by this time. For instance, it may have been his intention that the grooves in “Autotire” are mistaken for cracks in the ground. He never makes it easy for the viewer to figure out what the work is about without reading about it. This fact illustrates one of the major problems with conceptual art. Yet, at the same time, I was surprised by the power such relatively simple illustrations can carry. Ultimately, their ambiguity actually stimulates new thinking in relation to their meanings.
Another work that shows his interest in meaning is “God Nose” (1965), in which he used oil paint to depict a nose in two colors on a blue background. The small white object floating above the nose starts to look like a cloud. However, only after the viewer reads the title, does he understand the true meaning (“God” is related to heaven and the sky). At the same time, the title has dual meanings: “nose” and “knows”. His manipulation of words in such works is the strongest element of his work.
Of all the works on view, I was especially drawn to “The Duress Series: Person Climbing Exterior Wall of Tall Building/Person on Ledge of Tall Building/Person on Girders of Unfinished Tall Building” (2003). As one of the most recent works included in the exhibition, it is composed of three black and white photos that look like they were printed from a magazine or a newspaper. In each of these photos, there is a shape of a human being in a different pose climbing over the wall or trying to balance on the ledge of a building. These shapes are depicted in various colors such as blue, yellow, and red. The people in these works look like either spies chasing after someone, or the targets of such a chase. I found it interesting that the buildings look old in each photo because of their antique black and white quality, while the spy-like figures are quite colorful and modern.It is this addition of the colorful human shapes that gives these particular works originality, demonstrating the power of Baldessari’s minimal touch. I stood in front of these works for some time, but I don’t know why I did. It might have been because of the contrast between the old images and the bright colors, or simply because of the tiring poses of the upward moving human beings they depicted. In any case, they caught my attention and made me think.
After leaving the museum, I realized that I had experienced contemporary art in its most challenging form. Baldessari certainly succeeds in stimulating the brain activities of his viewers, and the exhibition forces viewers to think about the hidden sides of objects. While the images may not have always been “purely beautiful,” they nonetheless communicated strong messages, the strongest of which is his conviction that the truth is beautiful no matter how ugly it is. In the end, pure beauty and the ironic messages it implies can only truly live in eyes of the beholder.  

[1] Glickel, Jennifer. “Conceptual Artist John Baldessari to Open First Major U.S. Exhibit in Decades.” DNAinfo, October 19, 2010. Accessed: 12/20/10
[3] Roth, Moira. “Interview with John Baldessari (1973).” X-TRA, November 2, 2006. Accessed: 12/20/10

John Baldessari: Pure Beauty is on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art from October 20, 2010–January 9, 2011