1) Hiroshi Sugimoto
2) This series comprises of black and white photographs of movie theaters located both inside and outside. From image to image, the movie screens are illuminated and centered within the frame. It seems like the camera is the same distance away from the screen in each image (no variation in composition).
3) These deadpan, black and white images, to me, communicate one thing, objective observation. Sugimoto is quite matter-of-fact with the presentation of each theater; what you see is what you get. His consistency in distance, cropping, framing, and even tonality eventually turned me onto his underlying conceptual ideas. The presence of these controls also made it easier to fully engage with the unique spaces he photographed. Sugimoto’s stylistics led me to interpret this series as being an observational study of humans and our interests.
4) Theaters, glowing screens, and empty chairs are the main “things” existing within these frames. Many of the indoor theaters are beautiful, ornate in design and decoration. They remind me of opera houses you might find in France or Russia in the 1900s. Compared to their counterparts, the outdoor theaters are quite underwhelming (in design that is). The outdoor photographs show towering screens above what I believe to be land designated for cars. Each image is completely devoid of people (or cars). From the information given, I can’t get a great sense of location (I know most if not all have to be in America), but the theaters do lead me to imagine the events, the people, and the entertainment that transpire within and around them.
5) I think Sugimoto observes human’s likes and dislikes through the means of movie theaters. We like pretty “packages” rather than boring, seemingly ugly ones. We strive for grandeur, hence the over-the-top outdoor movie screens. By removing people from the images, I think Sugimoto is trying to show just how sick and twisted our obsession with opulence truly is. Without the influence of human emotion (lack of facial expressions and body language), viewers are faced with examining his work like we might a detailed illustration of the stomach found in a doctor’s office; objective and informative, but terrifying and disgusting.
6) I did some digging on Hiroshi Sugimoto. I found this quote that directly related to how he began this “Theaters” project:
"One night I had an idea while I was at the movies: to photograph the film itself. I tried to imagine photographing an entire feature film with my camera. I could already picture the projection screen making itself visible as a white rectangle. In my imagination, this would appear as a glowing, white rectangle; it would come forward from the projection surface and illuminate the entire theater. This idea struck me as being very interesting, mysterious, and even religious."
I find it extremely interesting that Sugimoto wanted to encapsulate moving film stills into one, solitary photograph. To know that it was only this aesthetic drive that produced this series is comforting for some reason. Not all artwork has to be derived from an extremely personal or emotional place. Good photography can express great things, but can be based purely on interest in light or a simple quirk of an idea. Not everything has to be serious or deep. Of course I, like so many others, interpret “Theaters” on a deep level, but as an artist, it’s reassuring to know that this man created impressionable work with such a simple concept in mind. So yes, I do believe Hiroshi Sugimoto is successful in expressing his concept.
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1) Mugshots from Sydney, Australia c. 1910 – 1930 (Photographer Unknown)
2) These black and white photographs capture Australians who have been sentenced to some amount of jail time. The compositions vary from close up to full body portraits. Often the photographer presents these people in a diptych. The people are mostly positioned to one side of the frame, sometimes so severely that an arm or an elbow has been cut off from view.
3) The multiple poses of these people are surely necessary to complete police records (like they are today). But I do believe that the photographer here took artistic license. His (I seriously doubt it’s a woman given the time and situation) use of diptychs allows viewers to study both the close-up expressions and the body language of these inmates. Playing with skewing one person to the left or right is visually dynamic, which, in my opinion, creates a sort of rhythmic movement from frame to frame that you would not expect to see in mugshots. From the use of these formal elements, I deduce that the photographer attempted to portray what society deem as “morally corrupt” in a new light.
4) Each image contains a single person or a group of people. The people range from burley men to petite women. Above the heads of each person is their name scribbled in white. Beside several of the names is the date and a concession of numbers meaning what I’m not sure. The facial expressions and body language are just as variant. Some men glare into the camera with vengeance in their eyes, others seem complacent and surprisingly some look nonchalant, even cracking a smile for the photographer. Similarly, some women are giggling, smiling, and gossiping, giving me the impression that they are disconnected from reality (if I were to go to prison, I don’t think I would be smiling about it). Of course some of the women photographed wear forlorn and agonized expressions, nervously awaiting their impending doom. The sets are definitely odd given the situation. The scenes and props (i.e. chairs) are simple so that the person is the main focus.
5) The photographer’s decision to capture these people in such an up-close and personal way allows my imagination to run rapid. I can totally envision the back-stories of each person simply by the way they engage with the camera both with their face and their body. I think the photographer is trying to understand a particular human condition. What might force a person to turn to crime? What is underneath their hard exteriors? Is this treatment always fair? From his time with these people, I have a feeling that the photographer soften, perhaps pitying the plight of some. I just feel like by allowing these criminals to exist in an environment other than a plain, white wall or a jail-cell, the photographer is trying to remind viewers that these are people, capable of feeling. The fact that there are any props (i.e. chairs) is strangely wonderful. Its like the photographer is giving these people a choice, whether to sit or stand. Perhaps the person’s preference to sit or stand helps humanize them somehow. Maybe the photographer is going as far as trying to connect with his subjects.
6) I couldn’t find any information about the photographer, obviously since he is unknown, so the interpretations I make of his work are only speculation. I did, however, find information about some of the people he photographed. I found one quote from Nevillie McQuade, a transvestite arrested with his friend Lewis Stanley Keith in June 1942. In reference to being photographed, McQuade said; "We were bundled out of the police cell, and snapped immediately. My friend and I had no chance to fix our hair or arrange our make-up. We were half asleep and my turban was on the wrong side."
So from reading more about the people in the photographs, I can tell that whoever photographed them was more impersonal with his approach. Perhaps he wasn’t looking to connect with them or understand them. Perhaps he was just doing his job. But whatever his goal, he captured a moment, a moment that explores how much certain facial expressions or body positions reveal about a person.
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