sprawlcode by chris burnett
William Eggleston is, at this point, a living legend. It was his work in tandem with John Szarkowski's curatorial acumen that eradicated the institutional ban relegating color images to the ghetto of amateurs and snap shooters. Eggleston's disciples are many; countless have taken up arms and rushed to the front of his "war with the obvious." Arguments over the color photograph as art have long ceased; now, one must search diligently to view fresh monochromatic work.
Despite Eggleston's uniquely simultaneous position as a living, working artist and a member of photography's pantheon of gods, publishers prefer to mine his vast historical archive. 5x7 is the latest volume to transport us back to Eggleston's Memphis of the early 1970s. It is a lavish object, featuring dozens of images Eggleston created with the titular large-format camera. But these photographs are not typical Eggleston; while a few odd interiors and objects do appear, the images are mostly on-site portraits--in color and black and white--of alternately loose and contemplative bar-goers and oddballs of the early 1970s Memphis scene.
Similar to his well-known photographs of inanimate objects, these portraits offer a fascinated detachment. However, the difference lies in the creation of a momentary relationship--a split-second connection that ever so slightly allies Eggleston with the subject. Unlike his tricycle, upon which we project ourselves, these subjects actually think and feel, and Eggleston was there to capture them in the act. We continue to learn from Eggleston through his pre-apotheosis work of nearly four decades ago.
This review originally appeared in Afterimage: The Journal of Media Arts and Cultural Criticism, Issue 34.6 (May/June 2007)
5x7
by William Eggleston
Twin Palms Publishers/96 pp./$65.00 (hb)
William Eggleston is, at this point, a living legend. It was his work in tandem with John Szarkowski's curatorial acumen that eradicated the institutional ban relegating color images to the ghetto of amateurs and snap shooters. Eggleston's disciples are many; countless have taken up arms and rushed to the front of his "war with the obvious." Arguments over the color photograph as art have long ceased; now, one must search diligently to view fresh monochromatic work.
Despite Eggleston's uniquely simultaneous position as a living, working artist and a member of photography's pantheon of gods, publishers prefer to mine his vast historical archive. 5x7 is the latest volume to transport us back to Eggleston's Memphis of the early 1970s. It is a lavish object, featuring dozens of images Eggleston created with the titular large-format camera. But these photographs are not typical Eggleston; while a few odd interiors and objects do appear, the images are mostly on-site portraits--in color and black and white--of alternately loose and contemplative bar-goers and oddballs of the early 1970s Memphis scene.
Similar to his well-known photographs of inanimate objects, these portraits offer a fascinated detachment. However, the difference lies in the creation of a momentary relationship--a split-second connection that ever so slightly allies Eggleston with the subject. Unlike his tricycle, upon which we project ourselves, these subjects actually think and feel, and Eggleston was there to capture them in the act. We continue to learn from Eggleston through his pre-apotheosis work of nearly four decades ago.
This review originally appeared in Afterimage: The Journal of Media Arts and Cultural Criticism, Issue 34.6 (May/June 2007)
William Eggleston is, at this point, a living legend. It was his work in tandem with John Szarkowski's curatorial acumen that eradicated the institutional ban relegating color images to the ghetto of amateurs and snap shooters. Eggleston's disciples are many; countless have taken up arms and rushed to the front of his "war with the obvious." Arguments over the color photograph as art have long ceased; now, one must search diligently to view fresh monochromatic work.
Despite Eggleston's uniquely simultaneous position as a living, working artist and a member of photography's pantheon of gods, publishers prefer to mine his vast historical archive. 5x7 is the latest volume to transport us back to Eggleston's Memphis of the early 1970s. It is a lavish object, featuring dozens of images Eggleston created with the titular large-format camera. But these photographs are not typical Eggleston; while a few odd interiors and objects do appear, the images are mostly on-site portraits--in color and black and white--of alternately loose and contemplative bar-goers and oddballs of the early 1970s Memphis scene.
Similar to his well-known photographs of inanimate objects, these portraits offer a fascinated detachment. However, the difference lies in the creation of a momentary relationship--a split-second connection that ever so slightly allies Eggleston with the subject. Unlike his tricycle, upon which we project ourselves, these subjects actually think and feel, and Eggleston was there to capture them in the act. We continue to learn from Eggleston through his pre-apotheosis work of nearly four decades ago.
This review originally appeared in Afterimage: The Journal of Media Arts and Cultural Criticism, Issue 34.6 (May/June 2007)