Showing posts with label Chris Wiley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris Wiley. Show all posts

Sunday, July 21, 2024

Emmet Gowin / The Most Intimate Photograph

 

Nancy, Danville (Virginie), 1969 

The Most Intimate Photograph


By Chris Wiley
January 10, 2017


One of the most beautiful photographs I know of is an image of a woman standing in the doorway of a barn, backlit in a sheer nightgown, peeing on the floorboards beneath her. It was taken in Danville, Virginia, in 1971, by the photographer Emmet Gowin, and the woman in question is his wife, Edith. The picture is so piercingly intimate that I find it difficult even to look at it. This is not because I feel as if I am intruding, or being shown something that I was not meant to see, but simply because it seems to hover too close to the vital force of human connection. It is too poignant, too alive. Rather than merely avoiding clichés—about love and intimacy, artist and muse, public and private­—the picture seems to repel them, as an amulet repels evil spirits. Clichés are prophylactics against the complexity and intensity of direct experience, tools used to distance ourselves from reality, but this photograph brings love near enough that we can feel its hot breath.

Friday, July 19, 2024

Cindy Sherman’s Grotesque Digital Creations


“Untitled #654,” 2023. Photograph by Cindy Sherman 

Cindy Sherman’s Grotesque Digital Creations

In a new series of collages made by hand and with Photoshop, Sherman is as unrecognizable as she’s ever been, but the figures she depicts can’t be easily disentangled from herself.

By Chris Wiley
February 20, 2024

Cindy Sherman, the grande dame of the Pictures Generation, has a new show up at Hauser & Wirth’s recently opened space in SoHo—a collection of wacky, digitally collaged character studies, which continue her multipronged expedition into the outer realms of persona building, artifice, and the fun-house world of media images. The gallery bills it as a neighborhood homecoming of sorts, describing in a press release how Sherman mounted the New York début of her epochal series “Untitled Film Stills” in SoHo, at the nonprofit gallery Artists Space, some forty-odd years ago. The pedant in me is compelled to note that Artists Space was in Tribeca at the time of the 1978 exhibition, having moved from Wooster Street down to Hudson Street the year before, but I grant that it was within spitting distance of SoHo if you were a very good spitter.