THOMAS BARROW: LA RABBIA E IL PAESAGGIOTHOMAS BARROW: ANGER AND LANDSCAPE

Mi è venuto in mente il NO di Mario Schifano. Guardando queste immagini pubblicate sull’ultimo numero di Aperture mi è parso di percepire lo stesso moto di rabbia. Forse meno selvaggio, ma ugualmente potente. Thomas Barrow è un artista che ha fatto della sperimentazione fotografica la sua cifra stilistica e nel bel mezzo degli anni Settanta realizza questa serie di foto intitolata Cancellations. Sono immagini in bianco e nero del paesaggio urbano americano, simili a quelle diventate celebri con la mostra del 1975 New Topographics: Photographs of Man-Altered Landscape. C’è un’unica differenza: l’immagine è sempre attraversata da una X ottenuta incidendo il negativo. Chi si ricorda che cos’è la fotografia tradizionale sa che tipo di violenza è nei confronti di un’immagine analogica un gesto del genere. Una cicatrice, uno sfregio ineliminabile. Un gesto apparentemente banale, quasi infantile. Eppure così carico di rabbia verso ciò che appare come un’ingiustizia. Tanto hanno riflettuto i fotografi americani su quell’aggettivo “man-altered” (penso a Robert Adams, Richard Misrach o Edward Burtynsky), eppure in loro ricerca della  “wilderness” perduta aveva la forma di un’amara nostalgia. Barrow invece si ribella: si avventa con foga distruttrice facendo scempio dello scempio. Giovanni Testori, forse l’avrebbe chiamata “rivolta”. Un modo per urlare: “NO”.

 

Thomas Barrow, DART, from the series Cancellations, 1974
DART, 1974
Thomas Barrow, Horizon Rib, from the series Cancellations, 1974
Horizon Rib, 1974
Thomas Barrow, Culver City, from the series Cancellations,1975
Culver City, 1975
Thomas Barrow, UCR (ellipse), from the series Cancellations, 1976
UCR (ellipse), 1976

I came up with NO by Mario Schifano. Looking at these pictures published in the current issue of Aperture I almost felt the same surge of anger.. Perhaps less wild, but equally powerful. Thomas Barrow is an artist who has worked extensively on photographic experimentation and, in the middle of the seventies, makes this series of photos entitled Cancellations. They are images of the American urban landscape in black and white, similar to those became famous in 1975 with the exhibition New Topographics: Photographs of Man-Altered Landscape. There is one difference: the image is always crossed by a X obtained by etching the negative. Who remembers what traditional photography is, knows what kind of violence is against analog image such a gesture. A scar, an ineliminable slash. Something as apparently trivial, almost childlike. Yet a gesture so full of anger at what appears to be an injustice. The American photographers have thought a lot about the adjective “man-altered” (I think of Robert Adams, Richard Misrach and Edward Burtynsky), yet in their quest for the lost “wilderness” was in the form of a bitter nostalgia. Barrow instead rebels: pounced eagerly making havoc of the havoc. Giovanni Testori, perhaps, would call “revolt”. A way to shout “NO”.

 

Thomas Barrow, DART, from the series Cancellations, 1974
DART, 1974
Thomas Barrow, Horizon Rib, from the series Cancellations, 1974
Horizon Rib, 1974
Thomas Barrow, Culver City, from the series Cancellations,1975
Culver City, 1975
Thomas Barrow, UCR (ellipse), from the series Cancellations, 1976
UCR (ellipse), 1976

DA UNA LETTERA DI ROBERT ADAMS AD ANSEL ADAMS

Moonrise on San Hernandez, Ansel Adams, 1941
Moonrise on San Hernandez, Ansel Adams, 1941

“Bene… ciò che voglio dirle è che le sono grato per le sue immagini che mi hanno spesso salvato dalla disperazione… nei tempi bui, uno desidera sapere se ha davvero vissuto in modo più puro. La forza delle sue immagini conferma che quel mondo è esistito e testimonia che è eterno, malgrado ciò che succede di fuori, di fronte a noi, in questo momento”.

Robert Adams, 26 giugno 1979

ROBERT ADAMS SAYS YES

Robert Adams (1937) è considerato un maestro della fotografia americana. Quest’anno l’università di Yale gli dedicherà un libro e una retrospettiva che girerà l’America e l’Europa. Di seguito riporto un brano dell’intervista che Joshua Chuang, il curatore per la fotografica di Yale, gli ha fatto sull’ultimo numero di Aperture.

JOSHUA CHUANG: You wrote in 1977, in the introduction to denver, that the city’s inhabitants “partecipate in urban chaos” but are themselves “admirable”. Do you still believe this?

ROBERT ADAMS: I’d probably be more specific about the people I endorse. And inclined to note the tragic nature that we all have in common. In a recent Paris Review interview the writer Marilynne Robinson was asked if she worried about being too pessimistic. Her reply was “I worry that I’m not pessimistic enough”. I share that feeling. Although neither she or any artist is without hope. If they were, they wouldn’t bother.

JOSHUA CHUANG: Dorothea Lange once said that she hoped that generation of photographers following hers would focus on the American city and what happening in the suburbs. Is there a particular subject you’d like to see the next generation take on?

ROBERT ADAMS: What she wanted still seems right, but it remains a tall order. One of the things that I most hope to find when I speak with young photographers is a readiness to ask almost impossible things of themselves, the sort of things that demand three or four years and that might result in fifty or seventy-five pictures of an important, life-size subject. I want to repeat to them Miguel de Unamuno’s blessing: “May God deny you peace but give you glory”.
Let me add one thing that might at first seem at odds with my wanting to toughen up Summer Nights – that the goal of art is affirmation. Of course if you get affirmation on the cheap it can be easy dismissed, which is why I wanted Summer Nights to be more than a record of childhood innocence. But the purpose of art is, in the end, to find beauty, and by that share an intuition of promise.
This past spring there was a show titled Into the Sunset at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. It was about phography’s picture of the American West, and thought I didn’t see the exhibition I did study the catalog. It raised an important problem that confronts everybody, East and West. On the one hand there were landscapes, the more recent of which, my own included, documented worn, abused places. Together with these views there were pictures of people, and the more recent of the seemed, in the main, to be portraits of the lost. The issue raised by the show seemed to be whether are affirmable days or places in our deteriorating world. Are there scenes in life, right now, for which we might conceivably be thankful? Is there grounds now and then for an un-ironic smile?
Every artist and would be artist should, I think, recognize a responsibility to try, without lying, to answer those questions with a yes.