New Crop: Exactly Two Hundred Fifty Images from the Rhode Island School of Design Archive (Room B03, 20 Washington Street), Volume Three of Eight...


New Crop: Exactly Two Hundred Fifty Images from the Rhode Island School of Design Archive (Room B03, 20 Washington Street), Volume Three of Eight from "Buildings and Open Spaces," Presented in its Entirety and in the Order that Each Was Removed from the Archival Storage Box.

October 15, 2004 – November 15, 2004
Rhode Island School of Design
Red Eye Gallery
30 North Main Street, 4th Floor
Providence, RI 02903

Essay by Ben Carlson: Photographers have been photographing architecture almost since the medium’s invention. The history of modern photography can be traced from Eugene Atget’s photographic albums of turn-of-the-century Paris through August Sander’s photographic catalogue of Cologne. Yet it wasn’t until Ed Ruscha’s snapshots of every building on Sunset Strip and Dan Graham’s banal photographs of suburban New Jersey homes that photography was valued at the price of the other fine arts[1]. As Conceptual Art ushered in what Benjamin Buchloh has called the aesthetic of administration, photography turned towards the archive as a model.

“New Crop,” the current Red Eye Gallery show, is rooted in this shift from individual image to larger archive. In “The Body and the Archive,” Allan Sekula writes, “the archive exists not simply as a material network of territorialized realms of knowledge. The archive also casts its ‘shadow’ as a unifying principle lending coherence across these segregated domains” (October, no. 39: 10).” The archive, as Sekula argues, is not just the sum of the individual images. The archive’s organizational logic has a normative function where each individual image is standardized through its inclusion in the collection. The creation of typologies, such as the Water Towers photographed by the Bechers, or Los Angeles real estate as photographed by Ruscha, is the method by which the archive controls deviance. Any minor variation takes on the greatest significance and becomes the center of the viewer’s attention. With so much the repetitiveness, small variations are that much more apparent. Why is that water tower so different? The archive’s structure sets the limits of what may be included – anything outside its parameters is impermissible, anything else just doesn’t make sense.

In The Archaeology of Knowledge, Michel Foucault defines the archive as “the systems that governs the appearance of statements” (129), meaning that the archive is what determines the terms and limits of what may or may not be said. For an individual image to make sense in the archive it must conform to these typologies. Ed Ruscha’s Various Small Fires and Milk can be read as a test of these limits. Photograph after photograph takes the same, boring studio approach to a variety of small fires. Finally, on the last page we find a startling photograph of a puddle of milk. Why is this photograph so different? Why is this photograph so nonsensical?

The book is an exaggerated example of the archive’s normative function. This normative function is as apparent in the RISD Archive as it is anywhere. The RISD Archive is a way to preserve the memory of the schools buildings and open spaces, but it is also a public relations tool through which the school creates an idealized self-image. In a sense the archive is RISD’s official memory, yet also a construction. The photographs in the archive are taken by professional photographers and are carefully edited to create a particular impression of this institution. Within its precisely controlled structure there are only certain permissible things that may be said. As we can see by looking at New Crop, there are only certain ways that the buildings and open spaces may be photographed if they are to be included in the official memory. How recognizable are the spaces we occupy day after day? What this new crop makes most evident is the divergence between official memory and personal experience.

Essay by Ben Carlson, exhibition organized by J.P. Biondi and Miranda Burch and installed by Dan Noyola and Richard Saunders.

[1] See Jeff Wall’s “Marks of Indifference: Aspects of Photography in, or as, Conceptual Art” for an in depth account of the shift.

Unmoving


Unmoving, 2004, gelatin silver prints mounted to Plexiglas and Sintra, h 10” x w 32”

Unmoving is a panorama comprised of four photographs made in the morgue over the course of a day. Although the panorama is noticeably empty and still, the space was active during the day. The photographs were made during the time in-between numerous autopsies. Alignment discrepancies present in the four images draw attention to the repeated breakdown and setup of the large 8” x 10” camera and consequential repositioning errors – human qualities in an otherwise lifeless environment.

Headrest


Headrest, 2001, gelatin silver print, h 20” x w 16”

The simple curves and surprisingly elegant design of an autopsy headrest disguise the purpose of the device – to hold the cadaver head secure and allow drainage during autopsies. Additionally, the imposing scale of the work contributes in generating tension between the work and the viewer.

In twighlight, general outlines of ground objects may be distinguishable, but the horizon is indistinct



In twighlight, general outlines of ground objects may be distinguishable, but the horizon is indistinct, 2004, Marine Plywood, CD player, 2 speakers, audio: total running time 32 seconds, looped, h 5’6” x w 32’ x d 4’9”

In twighlight, general outlines of ground objects may be distinguishable, but the horizon is indistinct, 2004, is a 32-foot wide staircase that has been truncated at its third step. The staircase would connect to the upper level of Smack Mellon gallery, were it to continue. It is constructed of Marine Plywood in homage to the minimalist objects that in part inspired it. Speakers hidden beneath the two endpoints faintly play in continuous loop the first few bars of a rendition of Perry Como's Sunrise, Sunset. This project is a collaboration with Christopher Ho.

Special thanks to Eric Zeszotarski of Solid Studio

A Response to a Set of Conditions



A Response to a Set of Conditions, 2004, Super-8 film diptych transferred to DVD, color, silent, total running time 2 minutes and 49 seconds (top: 9 film stills from left half of diptych, c-print mounted to Plexiglas and Sintra, h 9 1/2” x w 14”; middle: 25 film stills from right half of diptych; bottom: 2 film stills from right half of diptych)

A Response to a Set of Conditions is a silent film diptych comprised of Super-8 films shot in a morgue. The patterns of behavior depicted in the film intuitively utilize the morgue as a studio for developing awareness of motor skills (left film) and the real-time linguistic game presented in the right half of the diptych demonstrates cognition through the process of discerning new word combinations from labels on two pathology sample containers.

The following routines presented in the left film each run for the length of the camera’s manual wind: circumnavigate the morgue with a pencil balanced on the end of a ruler; hold raised, extended legs in front of the Wastemaster sink disposal grinder; grasp a bucket of pathology samples and maintain arm in horizontal position; negotiate figure eights around floor drains with a luggage cart loaded with an empty cardboard box; twirl a bone chisel with one hand; spin to the point of dizziness on a swivel chair; turn a radio dial rapidly back and forth from one end of the spectrum to the other; keep a roll of surgical tape moving constantly; walk figure eights around floor drains with fingers; repeatedly unbutton and button top two buttons of shirt.

The following word combinations are presented in the right film: no ear; no hear; he no hear; no heart; no art; he no art; heart art; normal art; normal ear, normal ear art; no ear muse; use no muse; he use a heart muse; mal muse; normal hearts museum.

The Plot is Very Bare


The Plot is Very Bare, 2005, 50 LightJet prints mounted to Sintra and Plexiglas, h 4.875” x w 6.5”

The Plot is Very Bare represents an uncomplicated walk across a baseball field to the bench in the dugout. Each photograph is taken from a position one step closer than the previous and the photographs are installed exactly one pace apart from one another. Additionally, this is the Encino Little League field in Encino, CA where the character Stacy from the 1982 film Fast Times at Ridgemont High loses her virginity to Ron Johnson the lecherous audio consultant from the mall.

Head and Headrest

(image intentionally not shown)
Head and Headrest
, 2000, c-print (from 16 Polaroid prints), h 8 1/2” x w 28”

Head and Headrest is a sober and methodical examination of an atypical situation.