Tag: new york

For the second chapter of the NYC Connection, our very own Jessica Thalmann takes on Carrie Mae Weems’s stunning retrospective at the Guggenheim.

As the first solo exhibition for an African-American female artist at the Guggenheim, Carrie Mae Weems’s retrospective is long overdue. Paired with a main sprawling exhibition on Italian Futurism, I questioned some curatorial choices when walking through the Guggenheim’s dizzying architectural rotunda.

“Three Decades of Photography and Video” opens on a strong note, with Weems’s renowned Kitchen Table series. In 1990, Weems staged a series of black-and-white scenes at her own kitchen table, starring herself, alone and with other models. Though using the guise of self-portraiture, the exquisitely printed silver gelatin prints seem more acerbic and sad; similar to Cindy Sherman’s “Film Stills” in tone. But it is the inclusion of framed text pieces to accompany the images that really adds another dimension to the work. Using the fictional voice of the female protagonist in each picture, Weems explores the complexities of race, class, and gender in the story of a black woman who was defined not just by her relationships—as a lover, mother, breadwinner, friend—but by her comfort with solitude. The power of the text elevates the images, and gives a fresh perspective to one of her most legendary series.

Carrie Mae Weems, from “The Kitchen Table Series”, 1990

It is clear that Weems’s strength is the combination of image and text. One of the most affecting bodies of work on view is her 1995 series From Here I Saw What Happened and I Cried, for which she enlarged daguerreotypes of African-American subjects, colored them red, framed them and etched the glass with text overtop of the images. The source photos are archival, and might seem familiar to some as they have been used again and again as examples of racial taxonomy in the early beginnings of photography. (Coincidentally, some of the original daguerreotypes were even on display at the Met’s Photography and the American Civil War exhibition.) A portrait of a naked tribal woman in profile reads, “You became a scientific profile.” Superimposed on another photograph of an elegantly attired woman gazing frankly ahead, are the words “Some said you were the spitting image of evil.” The anger and bitterness are palpable, and bring out the best of what the photographic image and text can achieve together.

Carrie Mae Weems, from “From Here I Saw What Happened and I Cried”, 1995–1996

Weems’s Slow fade To Black  is a series of blurred photographs of famous black female performers including Eartha Kitt, Nina Simone and Marian Anderson. The ironic title refers to the fading of celebrity and prominence of famed black performers, using the soft-focus mechanism of photography as a means to underscore its meaning. The triptych of large-scale images and black frames is elegant, sad, and tastes of bitterness.

I was, unfortunately, disappointed to discover the majority of Weems’s video work awkwardly placed above the clamorous museum café and store. The spillage of noise and rustling of bodies ascending from the open circular loops of the floor beneath was immensely distracting, and combined with the unwieldy installation of LCD screens along the curved walls, it was nearly impossible to have a genuine interaction with the work. In spite of this small curatorial awkwardness, I still left with the distinct impression that the exhibition is a real marvel. The exhibition is captivating, challenging, aesthetically distinct and, without a doubt, well-worth worth the inflated ticket price.

“Carrie Mae Weems: Three Decades of Photography and Video” is on view at the Guggenheim until May 14th.

Jessica Thalmann is a Toronto-based artist, curator and writer currently completing a Master of Fine Arts in Photography at ICP-Bard College in New York City. She has worked at the Doris McCarthy Gallery, TIFF, C Magazine and the Art Gallery of York University and has shown at various venues including the Art Gallery of Mississauga, Flash Forward 2010, Whippersnapper Gallery, Nuit Blanche and the Artist Project.

SOURCE: Art Bitch | Toronto art review and blog - Read entire story here.