photographsonthebrain: 

Philip-Lorca diCorcia

Mary and Babe, 1982
Philip-Lorca diCorcia, Yale MFA in Photography 1979; critic in photography at Yale at various times since 1996, currently senior critic.

D: Did you do your graduate studies at Yale?
dC: Yes, yes. And, that was quite a bit different. I think I was a bit of an anomaly at that point. They were still in a kind of rocks and ferns, Walker Evans, uh, black and white large format world then. And, Walker Evans had just died. They were in the process of a search for a replacement but his presence was still very strong there, which was not a problem for me… I mean, I totally respect him. But they didn’t have much tolerance for that kind of… at that time, I didn’t photograph people at all, and so, one shift that took place by going to graduate school was a move towards photographing people.
(American Suburb X Interview, 2003)

photographsonthebrain

Philip-Lorca diCorcia

Mary and Babe, 1982

Philip-Lorca diCorcia, Yale MFA in Photography 1979; critic in photography at Yale at various times since 1996, currently senior critic.

D: Did you do your graduate studies at Yale?

dC: Yes, yes. And, that was quite a bit different. I think I was a bit of an anomaly at that point. They were still in a kind of rocks and ferns, Walker Evans, uh, black and white large format world then. And, Walker Evans had just died. They were in the process of a search for a replacement but his presence was still very strong there, which was not a problem for me… I mean, I totally respect him. But they didn’t have much tolerance for that kind of… at that time, I didn’t photograph people at all, and so, one shift that took place by going to graduate school was a move towards photographing people.

(American Suburb X Interview, 2003)

theflagartfoundation:

Genevieve Gaignard (b. 1981) is an artist living and working in Wendell, MA. She received an MFA in photography from Yale University School of Art, New Haven, CT in 2014, and a BFA in photography from the Massachusetts College of Art, Boston, MA in 2007. Gaignard has been included in recent group exhibitions, including Deep End: Yale MFA Photography Thesis Exhibition, curated by Roe Ethridge, The FLAG Art Foundation, New York, NY (2014); Deep End: Yale MFA Photography Thesis Exhibition, curated by Fumi Ishino and Hannah Price, Green Hall Gallery, Yale University, New Haven, CT (2014); 13 Artists: Yale’s First All-Black Art Show, Yale University, New Haven, CT (2014); among others. Gaignard has recently been featured New York Magazine and ‘In The Air,’ Blouin ARTINFO. For links to Gaignard’s video work, click here.

Gaignard was included in DEEP END: Yale MFA Photography Thesis Exhibition, curated by Roe Ethridge, on view at the FLAG Art Foundation from June 5 – June 20, 2014. For information on DEEP END, click here.  Gaignard’s work is DEEP END: YALE MFA PHOTO 2014, curated by Awol Erizku, on view at Diane Rosenstein Fine Art, LA, from July 19 – August 23, 2014. For more information, click here.

Image Credits: Top: Genevieve Gaignard. Installation view from DEEP END, Green Hall Gallery, Yale University, New Haven, CT. Bottom: Genevieve Gaignard. The “Birds and the Beez” Wedge Boot, 2013/2014. Glitter with soil, silk flowers, foam objects, 10 ½ x 9 x 5 ½ inches.

I’m a big admirer of Gaignard’s work. 

aloneism:

Preparing to eat the ashes of her husband

Artemisia Prepares to Drink the Ashes of her Husband, Mausolusca. 1630. Attributed to Francesco Furini or, alternately, to Felice Ficherelli.
This is believed to be a portrait of the Greek leader Artemisia II of Caria, (her predecessor, Artemisia I, was a female Persian general!). Given to the Yale Art Gallery in 1952, the picture portrays Artemisia II—who was married to her brother, Mausolus, and reigned for two years after the death of her husband-brother—in the midst of a her grief-stricken daily ritual. Each day she mixed her dead husband’s ashes into her drink, pining away for him until she too passed away. The work is currently on view at the Yale University Art Gallery.

aloneism:

Preparing to eat the ashes of her husband

Artemisia Prepares to Drink the Ashes of her Husband, Mausolus
ca. 1630. Attributed to Francesco Furini or, alternately, to Felice Ficherelli.

This is believed to be a portrait of the Greek leader Artemisia II of Caria, (her predecessor, Artemisia I, was a female Persian general!). Given to the Yale Art Gallery in 1952, the picture portrays Artemisia II—who was married to her brother, Mausolus, and reigned for two years after the death of her husband-brother—in the midst of a her grief-stricken daily ritual. Each day she mixed her dead husband’s ashes into her drink, pining away for him until she too passed away. The work is currently on view at the Yale University Art Gallery.

marlonforrester:

Relaxmahbrotha mixed medium on paper 72”x96” #marlonforrester #realart #blackcontemporary #hoopdreams #yale

Marlon Forrester, Yale MFA in 2010
“Born in Guyana, South America and raised in Boston, MA, my paintings function as both a dislocation and relocation of self in relationship to Postcolonial concepts of the black male body. This body is in constant flux between representation and abstraction; it is space where a masculine “other” resides.” (Artist Statement)

marlonforrester:

Relaxmahbrotha mixed medium on paper 72”x96” #marlonforrester #realart #blackcontemporary #hoopdreams #yale

Marlon Forrester, Yale MFA in 2010

“Born in Guyana, South America and raised in Boston, MA, my paintings function as both a dislocation and relocation of self in relationship to Postcolonial concepts of the black male body. This body is in constant flux between representation and abstraction; it is space where a masculine “other” resides.” (Artist Statement)

A selection of photos of the Yale University Art Gallery from Lo Miles, featuring work by Basquiat, Kerry James Marshall, the Ancient Art and the African Art collections. 

I really love the sequencing of this series, there’s a real sense of connection between the works. 

greatleapsideways:

Jocelyn Lee. See Nowhere But Here.

Jocelyn Lee, Yale BA in Philosphy and Visual Arts, 1986; MFA in Photography from Hunter College, 1992 

“Really strong photographs can never be owned or fully understood formally, narratively, or intellectually. They resonate outside the edges of the frame, and continue to speak over time. That ineffable quality is what I am looking for during the editing process; I hope I am present enough to recognize it when it is there. Sometimes this knowledge or awareness has to hit you obliquely. You can’t study or edit the photographs “head on” so to speak. In other words, we have to get out of our own way. As I age, one of the biggest concerns I have is to avoid repeating myself formally, narratively or conceptually. It is not so easy to do. I am always looking for ways to refresh my process and let the medium speak to me again in new ways.” (Ahorn Magazine)

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Jim Goldberg

Rich and Poor

1. USA. San Francisco, California. 1977. “My life is personal, but I will tell you one thing I’m too fat.”

2. USA. San Francisco. 1977. “Now I see a way out to a decent future. I’m tired of this shit, drugs and pimping and all that stuff. Maybe now I have the courage to do something - anything. I don’t know, we will see. Jim, Thanks. (P.S) I love you.”

3. USA. San Francisco. 1978. “To me life seems so messed up but little by little I am trying to over come that. Because it is hard being a woman and to accept me as I am.”

4. USA. San Francisco. 1977. “I love the picture. I am a homosexual. May be if I send one of the pictures you gave me, Jim, to my nephew he will understand how hard his uncle is struggling.”

5. USA. San Francisco. 1984. “It’s kind of stinky living in this hotel. I don’t have nothing only $10. I keep waiting for someone to come in my door and give me money but nobody ever will.”

6. USA. San Francisco, California. 1983. “My face shows the intensity of a pained woman. I’ve been mugged and beaten. I didn’t ask for this mess. This makes me look like a bum - I am not. I am fantastic Dorothy, a popular personality. The nicest person in the hotel.”

7. USA. San Francisco, California. 1979. “My name is Judy and I am 11 years old. 

I like the picture. My mom looks like she angry. I don’t like the way I look because I look pregnat. My favorite thing is to play with boys.”

8. USA. San Francisco. 1983. “We look like ordinary people! We have a terrible life.”

 

These photos break my heart. The juxtaposition of the simple handwritten statements with Goldberg’s black and white portraits force you to really encounter each person as an individual, not just as a subject to be looked at.

Jim Goldberg is currently an artist in residence at the Yale University Art Gallery, according to the New York Times.

"The personal and political have always been inextricable for Mr. Goldberg, but perhaps never so much so as in the new project he has been working on for several months in his former hometown, as an artist in residence at the Yale University Art Gallery. He said he saw New Haven — where one in four of the 130,000 residents lives below the poverty line, and 1960s urban renewal initiatives served mostly to divide the city while paving over its past — as a microcosm of urban America. But the city, conceived by its Puritan founders as a new Jerusalem, with an original nine-square grid inspired by utopian readings of the Bible, has much deeper resonances.

“Against that history, I talk to all these people here who want to be somewhere else, in a better place,” he said. “But that place is often just imagined, a kind of fantasy world where they think they can find a better life.” (NY Times, 2014)

greatleapsideways:

"Arguably Grannan’s most consistent focus thus far has been the complex task of reconciling oneself to the human body, and the myriad ways in which it is traversed by our own frustrated aspirations, and the penetrating gaze of others. In the five separate projects bound together in her debut monograph, Model American, her measured but dramatic lighting frequently pointed up the mismatch between self-image and self-possession, and grounded that disjuncture in the difference between an interior and exterior conception of the body. Her nudes in that series were careful, if not tender, beautiful, while lacking any attempt at flattery, and bold enough to accept a reciprocal question about her interests as a portraitist, even as the pictures questioned the intentions of their subjects.

In some portraits, young men seem to search for a sensuality in their flesh that the pictures do not confirm, but nevertheless remain predisposed to consider. In others, the storybook protections of youth, or the post-Pop raunchiness of adolescence fail to provide the confidence that they perhaps nominally held as ideals. In still others, the raw and unabashed exposure of nudity seems more tragic than voluptuous, albeit precious for the intimacy with which it is extended. Throughout, the photograph’s relation to the body is grounded in the difficulty of remaining centred within an essentially contested space. (…)

The title The Ninety-Nine reminds us that we are each a numbered index card within the systematic logic of capitalism, and that the odds of our success (or even survival) decrease exponentially in proportion to our distance from the number one. The reductive grammar of the images depicts each individual’s inscription into that system, stripping away everything except the stability of each subject’s relationship to the pressures of light and time. The sparseness of the frames simultaneously emphasises the incidental moment of their making, and, in its tendency to abstract people into graphic forms, renders the portraits inherently metaphorical, symbolic and irreducible. They are images that, by an inverse gesture, clarify the profound value of stability, and they suggest that mobility and productivity are intricately bound up with the obsolescence that the portraits frequently imply.

Should we feel discomfiture in the face of these portraits, it might not be a reflection of the anguish of these individuals (at the very least, not exclusively). Rather, that discomfiture could be read as reflection of the difficulty we face, today, in understanding subjectivity outside of consumerist models of success. Beauty here is troubling because it arrests us without ennobling the fragility from which it arises, and our contemplative ease as viewers stands in a tense relationship to the stresses contained in these photographs.”

— excerpted from “The Discipline of Modern Economic Life: an essay on Katy Grannan’s The Ninety-Nine and The Nine," just uploaded to thegreatleapsideways.com

Katy Grannan, Yale MFA 1999 in Photography

I know I’ve posted Grannan’s work repeatedly here, including some of the images above. But I thought the essay about her work worth sharing. Writing about art can be so powerful and transformative. Thank you greatleapsideways for all you do to spotlight and create conversations about images and their meaning.