Design Observer Review 9/25

"The Camera Is Not a Machine Gun"
Regarding David Goldblatt's probing,
dispassionate photography in "Intersections Intersected"
by Fred Ritchin

My thoughts on Ritchin's review:

When I happened upon this article on Design Observer I was surprised because I had actually seen Goldblatt's exhibit at the New Museum 2 weeks ago. Of the exhibits they had on display, "Intersections Intersected" had been the only one I really enjoyed. This review of the work is very close to my own feelings about it, and much more eloquently stated. Goldblatt's photography is nuanced and understated, taking a wide visual stance to depict small details which are often very subtle. As an artist, I do tend to admire and appreciate any work that attempts to raise awareness about the world's problems and social issues, but many artists often approach the content in a way that seems very heavy-handed, particularly when it comes to racial issues. Goldblatt does quite the opposite, as he highlights the South African apartheid and the AIDS epidemic, and in doing so the work makes a much stronger impression on me. I think the exhibit was very intriguing and well-crafter and I agree with Fred Ritchin's summary.

See my original post on this exhibit:

Of the four exhibits I saw, I preferred David Goldblatt's Intersections Intersected. Goldblatt used the gallery to display photos of South Africa, in several different series. In one series, he highlighted the often-devastating changes on the landscape and people of the region, juxtaposing images from the 80's against those from the new millenium. His photography was beautiful and engaging, often showing the drastic changes but also the minute similarities. In a second series, he depicts the plight of the AIDS epidemic in South Africa, taking photographs of street scenes that often include only a small, subtle AIDS element that one must almost locate, like Where's Waldo. I particularly enjoyed Bungee Jumper, Mother & Child, and Join Our Club for their subtle yet powerful imagery. The photos were very large, yet the important elements were very small, often forcing the viewer to get close in order to see them, creating a sense of intimacy with the work. I enjoyed walking through his exhibit, although I'm not sure it warranted two full floors.