Timothy Karr. Morning Coffee, Virginia, 2014.
Leo Rubenfein talks to Aperture about Garry Winogrand:
The work is very free, and it remains fresh. It’s powerful but it refuses to make grand declarations—it’s powerful partly because it refuses to do that. It’s only outmoded if one thinks that art progresses in a linear way, and that this year’s art disqualifies last year’s. But I don’t believe that there is any such progression. That kind of thinking is a fiction of certain criticism and of the art market. If a work of art is alive, it is alive, no matter when it was made. There is something tremendously open-ended about Winogrand’s work. It’s there picture by picture, and in the overall body of work. It’s a quality of Winogrand’s, but it was a quality that artists often sought in the 1960s. Fellini once said: “To make a movie that has an ending is immoral.” It’s immoral. It’s to lie to the audience. Because life has no endings; life is all flux and discontinuity.
Alex Segal. From the series Suburban Landscape.
… I began to see evidence of ground in motion. Dirt was being dug up and moved, buildings were being torn down and rebuilt. The place we had was no longer relevant.
Despite that rare scene of tumult, the majority of the landscape remained still. Familiar walls and fences, now worn and draped with vegetation, remained long after whatever they guarded was gone. Patterns began to emerge like tracks from underneath the pavement. Oil stains grew larger and the grass was kept short but the image was constant, more of a loop than a progression.
Ben Brody, Operation ‘Patriot Strike’ in Ubaydi, Iraq, 2007.
Bruno Stevens, Rashid Street, Baghdad, 2003.
Two images from the recently published Photojournalists on War: The Untold Stories. Author Michael Camber discusses the book at Real Change News:
I hope that readers take some time to think about how important photojournalism is. Photojournalists are at the forefront of democracy. If we don’t know what’s going on out there, we can’t move forward as a country, and photojournalism is crucial to that. It takes someone who is ethical and never sets anything up and writes accurate captions and has a sense of history. The power of the still photo holds to this day. You can sit with this history in a book of photographs and others will see it. Sitting with photos of history is a special experience. I believe in that.
Not sure that I share Camber’s conviction about the objective role of photojournalism since the advent of Photoshop and postmodern skepticism.
That said, I do admire his idealism — at some point you just gotta believe. I also find these two images to be beautiful and resonant, but perhaps not for the reasons Camber mentions.
Dan Wetmore. Selected images.
From the artist’s statement:
As a child raised in Pittsburgh PA, Sleeping furnaces and crumbling houses were common sights on cross-town journeys. The back seat view from my parent’s Nissan fostered a strong curiosity for the tired neighborhoods, the trains and steel mils and their smoke. In my innocence, the intrigue presumed a mythic history. Once mobile as an adult, I found the explanations grounded and real.
Pascal Amoyel. From the series Western Surveys.
Initiated in the Western part of France called Brittany, where dispersed pattern of settlements, despite an old and obvious human history, gives human presence a singular and ephemeral aspect, this work focuses on places that combine signs of human habitation and vividness of nature.
Lost: The World’s First Conceptual Artwork
In the early years of Tito’s Yugoslavia, Bosnian artist Vojo Dimitrijevic was commissioned to create a monument at the street corner in Sarajevo where Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie were shot dead by Gavrilo Princip.
Dimitrijevic, who had distinguished himself as a painter of contemporary social themes, decided that instead of a traditional monument of the era he would simply set a pair of footprints into the pavement. Anyone could stand in the steps of Princip and imagine themselves the assassin who on June 28, 1914 set into motion the gruesome events that reshaped the world.
The resulting monument became a favorite of tourists until it disappeared under the rubble and chaos of the Bosnian War (1992-1995). Some believe that it was hauled off as a souvenir by a member of the occupying United Nations Protection Force.
An unknown photographer captured an image of Dimitrijevic’s work in 1986 (above). Today, nearly a hundred years after the fateful day, the monument is considered by some to be the world’s first conceptual artwork.
Dimitrijevic passed away in 1980, but his son Braco is himself a pioneer of the form.
Timothy Karr. New York, Fort Lauderdale, London, 2014.