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Ralph Gibson: Overtones
Book by Gibson, Ralph
- GenresPhotography
97 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1998
7 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
July 12, 2013
Holy shit in a panther this book is bad. I mean, it's a total failure. Here's the premise: Ralph took two oh his photos and placed them next to each other and they are supposed to illuminate each other. Then on each facing page is a text by someone reacting to the photos. They are phenomenally bland and full of meaningless, empty drivel. And the photos' relationships to each other are so obvious that they nullify and pleasure one has in looking (which is seeking).
The one on the right on p. 25 is a closeup of some sort of steel structure with rounded bolts and a slab at an angle. But placed next to a woman in a veil and hat it becomes timid and limited because you're only supposed to see the correspondence between the veil's pattern and the bolts.
Here is an example of just how bad the texts are: These photographs tell stories of my country. The balcony opens as an invitation to the unknown, a constant reminder of the correspondence between the and ancient and the modern Egypt, travelling on the chemistry between film, light and the artist, through fifty centuries of art and work.
The photographs tell but a few of the many stories of which Egypt is made. More stories, many more, can be discovered, seen or imagined in this land where people have learned to live with an inescapable past.
Ralph Gibson invites us to share his stories and, perhaps, to make our own. Boutros Boutros-Ghali
All that could be said of any place, obviously. So trite.
It becomes obvious that Gibson will not be having any major museum retrospectives ever agin. His only hope is nontotal deacquisitioning of his work, and a rediscovery of his macro reductions.
A. D. Coleman deserves special recognition for writing one of the worst things I have ever read in my life, and to stand out in this volume is saying something. Or, you have to REALLY say nothing.
The most disillusioning part of looking through this book for me was discovering that what I appreciated about the Gibson photos I had seen was, when put in the context of his ouevre, not anything he was interested in. What he was getting out of them and trying to do is not what they did well, and he never learned (or learned the wrong lessons) from his own work.
OK, the woodgrain mixed up squares and hair on a back on p. 53 is decent.
I started to get offended just continuing to flip through this book, and then on p. 87 there is a nice photo of some paper towels paired with the corner of a brick building and I was reminded why I was attracted a little bit when I saw the blinds on p. 89. But when I saw them they weren't paired with a nude woman covered in shadows from exactly the same kind of blinds, which removes all interest.
The pairing of a priest's neck/ collar and chin with a closeup on a portion of a menu, which is the final page, gets something going: order up.
The one on the right on p. 25 is a closeup of some sort of steel structure with rounded bolts and a slab at an angle. But placed next to a woman in a veil and hat it becomes timid and limited because you're only supposed to see the correspondence between the veil's pattern and the bolts.
Here is an example of just how bad the texts are: These photographs tell stories of my country. The balcony opens as an invitation to the unknown, a constant reminder of the correspondence between the and ancient and the modern Egypt, travelling on the chemistry between film, light and the artist, through fifty centuries of art and work.
The photographs tell but a few of the many stories of which Egypt is made. More stories, many more, can be discovered, seen or imagined in this land where people have learned to live with an inescapable past.
Ralph Gibson invites us to share his stories and, perhaps, to make our own. Boutros Boutros-Ghali
All that could be said of any place, obviously. So trite.
It becomes obvious that Gibson will not be having any major museum retrospectives ever agin. His only hope is nontotal deacquisitioning of his work, and a rediscovery of his macro reductions.
A. D. Coleman deserves special recognition for writing one of the worst things I have ever read in my life, and to stand out in this volume is saying something. Or, you have to REALLY say nothing.
The most disillusioning part of looking through this book for me was discovering that what I appreciated about the Gibson photos I had seen was, when put in the context of his ouevre, not anything he was interested in. What he was getting out of them and trying to do is not what they did well, and he never learned (or learned the wrong lessons) from his own work.
OK, the woodgrain mixed up squares and hair on a back on p. 53 is decent.
I started to get offended just continuing to flip through this book, and then on p. 87 there is a nice photo of some paper towels paired with the corner of a brick building and I was reminded why I was attracted a little bit when I saw the blinds on p. 89. But when I saw them they weren't paired with a nude woman covered in shadows from exactly the same kind of blinds, which removes all interest.
The pairing of a priest's neck/ collar and chin with a closeup on a portion of a menu, which is the final page, gets something going: order up.
June 21, 2020
A masterful assemblage of monochrome art photos by Leicamaster extraordinaire, Ralph Gibson. Mr. Gibson teaches through his art how to see with a camera . . . not just snap the shutter.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews