For sure, there are aspects of the exhibition that are earnest and
derivative. But, as juried by Khidr Joseph, Jayana LaFountaine, and Anna
Schupak, the show does not feel at all unseasoned. In its freshness,
intelligence, and diversity, this year’s Photo
Regional is hugely satisfying.
I’ve taught photography to undergraduates, and most were, as
young people must be, possessed by themselves and their familiar surroundings. This
is death to a photographer. Writers are taught to write what they know, but
photographers cannot be nearly so interior. They must immerse
themselves in what they don’t know - the unknowable realm of otherness that is
the visible world. What they discover there becomes the foundation of their
art.
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Julia Larberg - Rainbow Self with One Leg Raised |
This is an issue in the age of the curated self, social media
and the ego-spectacle of the selfie. But, in the hands of a good explorer, even the self can be an
undiscovered country, as it is in Julia Larberg’s sunny
nude,
Rainbow Self with One Leg
Raised, or Maggie Lang’s COVID-laden
Life
Under Quarantine series. I don’t know if the person in Natalia Gillespie’s
black-and-white
Abundance is the photographer or
not, but the field of daisies used as a backdrop wraps the figure in a glorious
reverie halo. Jesse Asher Alsdorf, using still life in lieu of portraiture,
offers a “discovery in self worth” in his text-and-photo triptych,
Bruised Flowers.
Often, though, when these young artists turn the camera
on themselves, their interest is more persona than personal. Ally DeRusso enlists the 20th-century technology of
the Polaroid instant camera for her set of five diptychs, casting herself in
mini psychodramas narrated by enigmatic titles: smack you in the teeth, father
daughter dance, and so on. This is the case too with Madison Scisci’s black-and-white
video drama, The Release, in which she
films herself in a dual role that leads either to reconciliation or liberation.
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Mateo Guevara Lemeland - Neon Boneyard |
The woman who Sebenele Ndlangamandla depicts in
Float may or may
not be the artist herself, but she is clearly playing the part of the goddess. Ndlangamandla’s
portrait of a woman embraced by sky and water, gazing pensively out of the
frame, is placed between nearly identical images of ripples on a lake or pool,
as if she rose from the water there and disappeared again. Like Botticelli’s
Birth of Venus, this startling woman
obviously hails from another realm.
All the photographers in this year’s Regional came of age
during the dystopian regime of Donald Trump. In those years, either the past
was being rewritten 1984-style by the
president’s henchmen, or rendered devoid of any coherent narrative or meaning.
Constant exposure to historical gaslighting might have turned these young
artists ahistorical, but it hasn’t. If anything, they are the captives of
history, of political divisiveness, systemic discrimination, environmental degradation.
In response, documentary photography provides some of the show’s most
compelling moments.
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Catherine Rafferty - A Nation that Forgets |
Some of the work is unsettlingly detached. Walker Bankson’s
documentary portraits, like his
Untitled
(Miles Fighting), explore an unsettling banality in contemporary
masculinity. The mordant anti-landscapes of John Bonetti (
Fountain at the End of the Dam) and Anna Nuler (
Ice Cream Castle) reveal the barrenness
of the modern built environment. And Mateo Guevara
Lemeland’s garishly surreal
Relic and
Neon Boneyard suggest that the
world itself has somehow curdled in place.
Other documents are more visceral. Anna Schupak takes us
into the middle of a protest in her Troy series. In a pair of images, Catherine Rafferty juxtaposes the
overheated red-white-blue of a Trump rally with the same palette in more somber
tones. Her A
Nation that Forgets places the blue dress and sandal of a black
woman against red paint thrown like blood on the base of a public monument,
where the inscription warns, “A Nation That Forgets Its Past Has No Future.”
The “white” of the image is represented visually by the paleness of the cement
plinth, and conceptually in the photo’s implication of racism.
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Rainer Turim - Tompkins Square Park |
Inevitably, the artists engage with the natural world. In Rainer Turim’s
Tompkins
Square Park, a tree growing through a chain-link fence
becomes a parable of humanity buckling under nature’s force. Conversely,
Gennaro Vargas’ splendid
Peruvian
Mountains preserves a paradise of human labor in harmony with the earth.
I admit I can make no sense of the arbitrary nature of the
exhibition’s 16-26 age range, except to muse, somewhat cynically, that the aim
was to attract high schoolers to Sage’s art programs. As it turned out, there
is no one under college age in the show, the average age being about 22. (The only teenager is Xiaoxuan Lisa Li, whose
tense, formal manipulations more than hold their own with the older exhibitors’
work.)
Rather than the weird high-school-to-post-MFA age
swing, why not a more traditional “under 30” show, a range that allows for a
greater number of mature emerging artists? The three
jurors, all of whom are under 26, have given a hybrid feel to the exhibition they
organized. While a call for entries opened the show to all, one suspects
some of the artists were hand-picked by the jurors from among their
friends and colleagues. The final selection feels more curated than the typical
juried exhibit.
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Xiaoxuan Lisa Li - Bat I |
This hybrid quality is heightened by the inclusion of the
jurors’ own work in the exhibit. This is a major departure from prior Regionals,
in which the jurors functioned entirely as disinterested umpires, not
player-coaches. The show is organized to mitigate the confusion this might
cause, with the jurors’ work sequestered in the atrium of the Opalka Gallery,
separate from the main body of the show. But it’s unclear how exactly to read
this separation: is the juror’s showcase part of the Regional, or an adjunct
exhibition?
These are serious questions but, ultimately, they should not
detract from the Regional’s comprehensive virtues: its quality, its
presentation, and above all its exhilarating diversity. In what has too often
been an exhibit of aging white dudes, this year’s 37 artists and 76 artworks
provide, in both surname and subject matter, a purposeful look across racial,
gender, and geographic boundaries. Yet the jurors’ obvious attention to
identity never overwhelms the individual artists’ voices.
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Jahniah Kum - Resilience |
It is especially thrilling to see the work of so many young black
artists on view here: Tyler Ki-Re’s lushly extroverted
Unchained; Jahniah Kum’s intimate domestic
documents
Marz and
Resilience; the tender maternal
portraits of Jayana LaFountaine’s
Postpartum
series.
Singularly impressive are the “portraits” of six black sitters
in Khidr Joseph’s Make Afros Great Again series.
Joseph gives us the backs of
their heads, emphasizing their hair styles, and it’s enough. From this, we get a smart and sensuous alt-MAGA manifesto about black people’s hair and its fraught history of political and social meaning. The centuries of this
struggle cannot be separated from the work’s visual beauty. Nevertheless, at a
certain point, I surrendered entirely to the artist’s retinal stimulations - the
pleasure of the textures revealed by his studio lights, and their kinship to
the eros of color, of hair, flesh, fabric, even the chromatic seamless
backgrounds. The “anonymity” of the sitters yielded to their uniqueness. The
last and highest diversity is the inviolable individual.