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Beneath the Roses
Best known for his elaborately choreographed, large-scale photographs, Gregory Crewdson is one of the most exciting and important artists working today. The images that comprise Crewdson’s new series, Beneath the Roses, take place in the homes, streets, and forests of unnamed small towns. The photographs portray emotionally charged moments of seemingly ordinary individuals caught in ambiguous and often disquieting circumstances. Both epic in scale and intimate in scope, these visually breathtaking photographs blur the distinctions between cinema and photography, reality and fantasy, what has happened and what is to come.
Beneath the Roses features an essay by acclaimed fiction writer Russell Banks, as well as many never-before-seen photographs, including production stills, lighting charts, sketches, and architectural plans, that serve as a window into Crewdson’s working process. The book is published to coincide with exhibitions in New York, London, and Los Angeles.
Beneath the Roses features an essay by acclaimed fiction writer Russell Banks, as well as many never-before-seen photographs, including production stills, lighting charts, sketches, and architectural plans, that serve as a window into Crewdson’s working process. The book is published to coincide with exhibitions in New York, London, and Los Angeles.
- GenresPhotographyArtNonfiction
140 pages, Hardcover
First published March 1, 2008
3 people are currently reading
251 people want to read
About the author
Gregory Crewdson
29 books20 followersGregory Crewdson’s photographs have entered the American visual lexicon, taking their place alongside the paintings of Edward Hopper and the films of Alfred Hitchcock and David Lynch as indelible evocations of a silent psychological interzone between the everyday and the uncanny. Often working with a large team, Crewdson typically plans each image with meticulous attention to detail, orchestrating light, color, and production design to conjure dreamlike scenes infused with mystery and suspense. While the small-town settings of many of Crewdson’s images are broadly familiar, he is careful to avoid signifiers of identifiable sites and moments, establishing a world outside time.
Born in Brooklyn, New York, Crewdson is a graduate of SUNY Purchase and the Yale University School of Art, where he is now director of graduate studies in photography. He lives and works in New York and Massachusetts. In a career spanning more than three decades, he has produced a succession of widely acclaimed bodies of work, from Natural Wonder (1992–97) to Cathedral of the Pines (2013–14). Beneath the Roses (2003–08), a series of pictures that took nearly ten years to complete—and which employed a crew of more than one hundred people—was the subject of the 2012 feature documentary Gregory Crewdson: Brief Encounters, by Ben Shapiro.
Born in Brooklyn, New York, Crewdson is a graduate of SUNY Purchase and the Yale University School of Art, where he is now director of graduate studies in photography. He lives and works in New York and Massachusetts. In a career spanning more than three decades, he has produced a succession of widely acclaimed bodies of work, from Natural Wonder (1992–97) to Cathedral of the Pines (2013–14). Beneath the Roses (2003–08), a series of pictures that took nearly ten years to complete—and which employed a crew of more than one hundred people—was the subject of the 2012 feature documentary Gregory Crewdson: Brief Encounters, by Ben Shapiro.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 32 reviews
October 12, 2020
Beneath The Roses is a strange and atmospheric photography book that pushes the boundaries between realities. Seemingly set in NE mill towns during the 1980s, many of these pictures seem like movie stills. Then other pictures seem to capture a moment that is achingly real, while the next veers towards looking jarringly fake and contrived. Thus, the pictures start to blur in how you perceive the scenes.
The surreal photographs are dark and disquieting, filled with morose people. While naked bodies and sexuality is incorporated in several pictures, it is all portrayed in a grim manner with no love or affection shown between the participants. The indoor scenes are obviously choreographed, with great attention to the details. This artificiality made me ponder the time and money poured into creating each specific look, from finding the cars and decor of the era, to employing the actors and actresses that were never shown in a flattering light.
I've spent a few weeks looking over the pages- sometimes I look through it chronologically, other times I flip through at random just to study a few photographs at length. The introduction preceding the photos and the concluding production material also added to the whole experience of the book. While certainly disconcerting, I also enjoyed the opportunity to create my own scenarios from the images in front of me- reminiscent of a favorite book of mine when I was a child, The Mysteries of Harris Burdick, by Chris Van Allsburg. If I ever have a chance to see an exhibit of Gregory Crewdson's work, I will make an effort to go based off this fascinating book.
The surreal photographs are dark and disquieting, filled with morose people. While naked bodies and sexuality is incorporated in several pictures, it is all portrayed in a grim manner with no love or affection shown between the participants. The indoor scenes are obviously choreographed, with great attention to the details. This artificiality made me ponder the time and money poured into creating each specific look, from finding the cars and decor of the era, to employing the actors and actresses that were never shown in a flattering light.
I've spent a few weeks looking over the pages- sometimes I look through it chronologically, other times I flip through at random just to study a few photographs at length. The introduction preceding the photos and the concluding production material also added to the whole experience of the book. While certainly disconcerting, I also enjoyed the opportunity to create my own scenarios from the images in front of me- reminiscent of a favorite book of mine when I was a child, The Mysteries of Harris Burdick, by Chris Van Allsburg. If I ever have a chance to see an exhibit of Gregory Crewdson's work, I will make an effort to go based off this fascinating book.
June 24, 2019
Photographs that are the opposite of Vivian Maier's au natural street snaps; Crewdson isn't hiding the difference, as he includes a production section in the appendix worthy of a Hollywood movie. Which is a relevant connection, since he also makes films, and these photographs have the effect of carefully produced noir stills, with foreboding, and loss of innocence, and decadence. No joy in Mudville. Edward Hopper, Raymond Carver territory. Working class, underclass, I got a bad bad feeling. Black and white and a splash of color here and there. Haunting. And he shows you the lighting set ups, so he is going for a certain effect. A touch of the surreal in places, David Lynch.
Narrative photography, hiding more than it tells.
Here's some of it:
https://gagosian.com/exhibitions/2005...
Narrative photography, hiding more than it tells.
Here's some of it:
https://gagosian.com/exhibitions/2005...
May 21, 2025
Incredible photographs. This set is an interesting experience for me- living in the northeast, where a number of these photos were apparently shot, looking at these pictures feels vaguely nostalgic. The staged, saturated and cinematic quality of the photos effectively replicates how I remember my old stomping grounds. Both the sentimental warmth of youth and the understated, looming darkness of a crumbling town full of damaged people.
There are also many strange, somewhat eerie interior shots. Small items and thoughtful layouts tell a broader story beyond the image. Nothing quite feels real but hyperreal, rather. It's not surprising to learn that Crewdson feels inspired by films like Todd Haynes's Safe and Lynch's Blue Velvet, you can totally see the influence in these uncanny shots.
I would love to see a film with this man in the cinematographer's seat.
There are also many strange, somewhat eerie interior shots. Small items and thoughtful layouts tell a broader story beyond the image. Nothing quite feels real but hyperreal, rather. It's not surprising to learn that Crewdson feels inspired by films like Todd Haynes's Safe and Lynch's Blue Velvet, you can totally see the influence in these uncanny shots.
I would love to see a film with this man in the cinematographer's seat.
February 13, 2015
This collection of photographs is haunting, eerie, beautiful, and inspiring. I believe that someone with some writing talents could take these photos and write some truly amazing short stories based upon the images. Just looking through you are constantly wondering: How did these people get to where they are? What was their life like before this? What are they hiding behind those lost eyes? The size of this book (which is massive) is very, very important to the viewing experience. Some of the photographs can also be found in Crewdson's book In A Lonely Place, but it is a much smaller book and doesn't allow for the detail to be seen as this edition does.
February 13, 2019
An amazing collection of photographs that explore the space where fiction and reality meet. Each one is an absolute gem that rewards hours of looking; the depth of field is so great, and the use of light and composition is so exact, that you can see characters in windows and doorways and vehicles in the middle to far distance - I want to go back over each shot with a magnifier to find all of these 'hidden' elements. Very inspirational!
July 10, 2014
Some of the most breathtaking images I've seen. The scale of craftsmanship and emotional ambition is stunning.
January 25, 2017
eerie, beautiful and strangely dehumanised photographs. Like stills from a film, however the people are static as if arrested in time rather than in the middle of doing something, even though various narratives are suggested by pregnant naked women or men with suitcases, or people about to dig a hole in a forest clearing. They are wonderfully staged, superbly lit. They linger for days in your mind.
January 13, 2015
Absolutely stunning. Crewdson's photographs are an outstanding combination of both beauty and creepiness. His composition, attention to detail, and cool colour palettes are what made me fall in love with his work. For anyone who is a fan of his work I recommend watching his documentary "Brief Encounters"!
November 23, 2009
Creepy photos.
Some remind me of "invasion of the body snatchers"; others more like Raymond Carver's more stripped-down stories.
Some remind me of "invasion of the body snatchers"; others more like Raymond Carver's more stripped-down stories.
June 12, 2021
Not my cup of tea. And didn't really expect to see naked women throughout.
January 1, 2020
Inexplicable, quiet and so very lonely. Beneath the Roses is genuinely brilliant.
Crewdson creates carefully constructed photographs, where something dramatic happens in the middle of a kind of stillness. Like stills from a movie, they are moments that are always in the middle of the event itself. The photograph is part of something bigger. We have to fantasize together the rest ourselves.
He captures an anonymous small town life in the middle of an emotional and expressive situation. It is inconvenient but also familiar. He shows us the beautiful, detailed but also the dramatic and sometimes directly unflattering.
He explores the space where fiction and reality meet. Just as we have seen in horror movies in recent years - Hereditary, Midsommar and especially It follows, which must be inspired by Crewdsons work.
He balances reality and dream. Because it is dreamy, but also so ordinary that you do not know if it is a nightmare or just a surreal reality. The photographs are feverish, full of unknowing desires, eerie and beautiful.
I think that's where many draw the David Lynch clutch - a small town life where dreamy things happen - but I think all the more about Cindy Sherman.
The way Sherman's staged scenes were an innovation. During the 1970s, she began recreating stills from Hollywood movies, taking photographs of herself as a housewife, prostitute, etc. During the 1990s, photographers such as Crewdson began to develop Sherman's concept and created his own stills where he exposed the middle class in American small towns to scrutiny.
In conclusion, this book is genuinely brilliant.
Crewdson creates carefully constructed photographs, where something dramatic happens in the middle of a kind of stillness. Like stills from a movie, they are moments that are always in the middle of the event itself. The photograph is part of something bigger. We have to fantasize together the rest ourselves.
He captures an anonymous small town life in the middle of an emotional and expressive situation. It is inconvenient but also familiar. He shows us the beautiful, detailed but also the dramatic and sometimes directly unflattering.
He explores the space where fiction and reality meet. Just as we have seen in horror movies in recent years - Hereditary, Midsommar and especially It follows, which must be inspired by Crewdsons work.
He balances reality and dream. Because it is dreamy, but also so ordinary that you do not know if it is a nightmare or just a surreal reality. The photographs are feverish, full of unknowing desires, eerie and beautiful.
I think that's where many draw the David Lynch clutch - a small town life where dreamy things happen - but I think all the more about Cindy Sherman.
The way Sherman's staged scenes were an innovation. During the 1970s, she began recreating stills from Hollywood movies, taking photographs of herself as a housewife, prostitute, etc. During the 1990s, photographers such as Crewdson began to develop Sherman's concept and created his own stills where he exposed the middle class in American small towns to scrutiny.
In conclusion, this book is genuinely brilliant.
October 25, 2018
Des photos magnifiques de scènes ‘hopperiennes’, préfacées par Russell Banks. Que du bonheur!
December 8, 2020
It was hard to convince my brain that these were photographs and not illustrations
May 16, 2023
Disturbia at its finest. Very cool vibe. I wish more films and series would come out with the same feel.
October 4, 2025
The adulation for Crewdson completely passes me by. Surely when you've seen one of these lifeless, contrived images you've seen them all?
November 4, 2008
There is a woman dressed like a librarian cliché seated on a small bed. Her expression is crushed. Look at her left hand, palm up—it appears almost paralyzed, like it’s lost its grip. A laundry basket of meticulously folded pale pink sheets sets in front of her. What’s that on the bedsheet? Blood? Whose room is this? Garish satiny underwear scattered on the floor, pots of pink nail polish bunched on the nightstand, framed prints of ballet dancers above the bed—this is a daughter’s room, of course. An altar of blue light frames the window and a pile of cartoonish children’s books. The door is open. The blue light escapes to the hall and beyond.
The next picture shows a man sitting his socks in a wingback chair in his living room. He looks stunned. Something immense and heavy—or perhaps just something traveling at an enormous speed—has crashed through the roof and ceiling and is now glowing in the basement. It’s the same blue glow as that of the TV. On second thought, no, nothing has crashed. The house is a ruin. Plaster has fallen from the walls revealing the lathe like bones. There’s dirt and newspapers and cement blocks in heaps. Tile is piled by the closed entrance door. The man in his socks isn’t so much shattered by the ruin as flattened by it. There will be no reconstruction. There is no more going forward.
Born in Brooklyn in 1962, Crewdson has been taking still pictures that use complex cinematic techniques for twenty years. Working with set designers and lighting artists on sound stages and on the streets of rural towns in Vermont and Massachusetts, the prints are large (64 x 94), the colors glossy, the themes operatic.
There is dread, but there’s yearning too. A certain adolescent miraculousness. And a kind of obsessive feral nostalgia. It’s gleaming twilight in the rundown mom and pop neighborhoods, land of uneven lawns and sunken concrete sidewalks, refuse pressed down beneath a season of snow. Trailers are dwarfed by enormous deciduous trees, the rooms are spacious and the surfaces cluttered, the people wear the posture of defeat and estrangement. In an NPR interview, Crewdson said that his pictures must first be beautiful, but that beauty is not enough. He strives to convey an underlying edge of anxiety, isolation, and fear. Yes, the house is on fire, the children not at home—no, they’re walking singly and in pairs along the railroad bed, overgrown with goldenrod. Here there are terrible choices, or the tragedy of the lack of effort to make any choice at all.
There is also the quiet sadness of beginnings and ends. In a Guardian interview, Crewdson said, “My photographs are about the moment of transition between before and after. Twilight is evocative of that. There’s something magical about the condition.” All of the photos are indeed mysterious: What are the teenagers doing in the forest with their flashlights? Why have they dug the hole? Did they dig it with their bare hands? In so many of the pictures bathroom doors are open—the toilet, wastebasket, the aqua tiles, the bath rug, soap, the pharmacy bottles want to tell their story—is something about to happen or has it already taken place?
The last section of the book is made up of production stills, lighting plots, and Polaroid snaps documenting the location shoots. Smoke and fog and snow machines fill up the atmosphere and lighting reaches four stories into the air. Architectural plans and set drawings are included for the soundstage shots. Interestingly, the incidental actor on scene looks as heartbroken candid as posed.
Twilight is a place to play with what you can see, what you can almost see, and what you can’t see at all. Although movie-like in their composition and the almost liquid intensity of depth, they’re non-manipulative. Unlike a movie’s deliberate gaze upon an object that’s sure to become important later on, these pictures are open-ended and viewers are invited to bring their baggage. As poet and novelist Russell Banks says in his introduction, “Crewdson’s photographs engage the mind more like good fiction than movies.” We might make the wish, like Timothy Hutton’s character did to Natalie Portman’s character in Beautiful Girls, “When you leave here, take me with you.” (ForeWord Magazine)
The next picture shows a man sitting his socks in a wingback chair in his living room. He looks stunned. Something immense and heavy—or perhaps just something traveling at an enormous speed—has crashed through the roof and ceiling and is now glowing in the basement. It’s the same blue glow as that of the TV. On second thought, no, nothing has crashed. The house is a ruin. Plaster has fallen from the walls revealing the lathe like bones. There’s dirt and newspapers and cement blocks in heaps. Tile is piled by the closed entrance door. The man in his socks isn’t so much shattered by the ruin as flattened by it. There will be no reconstruction. There is no more going forward.
Born in Brooklyn in 1962, Crewdson has been taking still pictures that use complex cinematic techniques for twenty years. Working with set designers and lighting artists on sound stages and on the streets of rural towns in Vermont and Massachusetts, the prints are large (64 x 94), the colors glossy, the themes operatic.
There is dread, but there’s yearning too. A certain adolescent miraculousness. And a kind of obsessive feral nostalgia. It’s gleaming twilight in the rundown mom and pop neighborhoods, land of uneven lawns and sunken concrete sidewalks, refuse pressed down beneath a season of snow. Trailers are dwarfed by enormous deciduous trees, the rooms are spacious and the surfaces cluttered, the people wear the posture of defeat and estrangement. In an NPR interview, Crewdson said that his pictures must first be beautiful, but that beauty is not enough. He strives to convey an underlying edge of anxiety, isolation, and fear. Yes, the house is on fire, the children not at home—no, they’re walking singly and in pairs along the railroad bed, overgrown with goldenrod. Here there are terrible choices, or the tragedy of the lack of effort to make any choice at all.
There is also the quiet sadness of beginnings and ends. In a Guardian interview, Crewdson said, “My photographs are about the moment of transition between before and after. Twilight is evocative of that. There’s something magical about the condition.” All of the photos are indeed mysterious: What are the teenagers doing in the forest with their flashlights? Why have they dug the hole? Did they dig it with their bare hands? In so many of the pictures bathroom doors are open—the toilet, wastebasket, the aqua tiles, the bath rug, soap, the pharmacy bottles want to tell their story—is something about to happen or has it already taken place?
The last section of the book is made up of production stills, lighting plots, and Polaroid snaps documenting the location shoots. Smoke and fog and snow machines fill up the atmosphere and lighting reaches four stories into the air. Architectural plans and set drawings are included for the soundstage shots. Interestingly, the incidental actor on scene looks as heartbroken candid as posed.
Twilight is a place to play with what you can see, what you can almost see, and what you can’t see at all. Although movie-like in their composition and the almost liquid intensity of depth, they’re non-manipulative. Unlike a movie’s deliberate gaze upon an object that’s sure to become important later on, these pictures are open-ended and viewers are invited to bring their baggage. As poet and novelist Russell Banks says in his introduction, “Crewdson’s photographs engage the mind more like good fiction than movies.” We might make the wish, like Timothy Hutton’s character did to Natalie Portman’s character in Beautiful Girls, “When you leave here, take me with you.” (ForeWord Magazine)
January 10, 2018
Un livre magnifique. Avec une mise en scène très cinématographique. Des nuances de bleus, des lumières tamisées pour une atmosphère étrange et mystérieuse. On y voit des paysages urbains presque déserts, des voitures à l'arrêt, prêtes à repartir ou définitivement abandonnées par des passagers qui ont l'air seul au monde, sidérés par ce qu'ils viennent de vivre. On a une impression de désolation, d'être après la catastrophe. Et même dans les scènes d'intimité, les gens ne se regardent pas vraiment. Ils sont comme paralysés par l'intensité du moment.
March 3, 2017
You have to spend time with his work. Get lost in it.
Makes lonely seem beautiful
Makes lonely seem beautiful
August 8, 2011
Gregory Crewdson, Beneath the Roses (Abrams, 2008)
Every working stoplight to be found in Gregory Crewdson's enchanting, fascinating photographic series Beneath the Roses is yellow. This is not coincidence. Nothing is, in Gregory Crewdson's world. It's a symbol, perhaps the least subtle to be found here, that you need to take your time looking at these monstrous photographs, which even in this massive Abrams volume are too small for you to make out every little detail; I just read an essay written by a guy who went over some of them with a microscope and saw things I certainly didn't.
Impressively detailed, occasionally shocking (did they really burn a house down? From the production stills in the back, it looks like that is, in fact, the case), never less than sumptuous. But what really got me thinking is how the staged nature of the photos managed to make them far more intimate than candid photos. There is a great deal to be said about that, and how much it says about the rampant emotional manipulation one finds in everything from big Hollywood productions to home-grown TV commercials, but I'm not the guy to say it all (and someone's probably already done a better job of it than I would anyway). I'm just here to point it out and let you know that once you start thinking about it, you'll be up all night doing so. I should know.
While digging around reading up on Crewson, I've found that this collection got some criticism for being too much like Twilight, the one he did previous. This is my first exposure to Crewson (Twilight, perhaps ironically, is next on my list), and so I should note that perhaps my overly-enthusiastic reaction comes as much from that as from anything else. But I stand by it; as a first exposure to the man's work, this book is just plain fantastic, the kind of thing that will mesmerize you, help you understand how people can spend half an hour staring at a single photograph, and most importantly, make you think about the photographic process, and that larger process of media itself. It's wonderful. **** ½
Every working stoplight to be found in Gregory Crewdson's enchanting, fascinating photographic series Beneath the Roses is yellow. This is not coincidence. Nothing is, in Gregory Crewdson's world. It's a symbol, perhaps the least subtle to be found here, that you need to take your time looking at these monstrous photographs, which even in this massive Abrams volume are too small for you to make out every little detail; I just read an essay written by a guy who went over some of them with a microscope and saw things I certainly didn't.
Impressively detailed, occasionally shocking (did they really burn a house down? From the production stills in the back, it looks like that is, in fact, the case), never less than sumptuous. But what really got me thinking is how the staged nature of the photos managed to make them far more intimate than candid photos. There is a great deal to be said about that, and how much it says about the rampant emotional manipulation one finds in everything from big Hollywood productions to home-grown TV commercials, but I'm not the guy to say it all (and someone's probably already done a better job of it than I would anyway). I'm just here to point it out and let you know that once you start thinking about it, you'll be up all night doing so. I should know.
While digging around reading up on Crewson, I've found that this collection got some criticism for being too much like Twilight, the one he did previous. This is my first exposure to Crewson (Twilight, perhaps ironically, is next on my list), and so I should note that perhaps my overly-enthusiastic reaction comes as much from that as from anything else. But I stand by it; as a first exposure to the man's work, this book is just plain fantastic, the kind of thing that will mesmerize you, help you understand how people can spend half an hour staring at a single photograph, and most importantly, make you think about the photographic process, and that larger process of media itself. It's wonderful. **** ½
January 24, 2014
The American Uncanny
I recant my previous review. Crewdson is picking up where Lynch left off in showing us the bizarre beauty of America. This is what Americana looks like to people not born and raised here. To compose these sorts of images means at least three things to me: 1) You have, at some point, been painfully ripped out of the common American ideological framework; 2) You have a deep appreciation of the beauty of those things we take for granted as commonplaces; and 3) Not simply do you have an appreciation of the beauty of the commonplaces in themselves, but you also have a sense for the inherit strangeness and wonder of the American narrative.
Reccommended for people who like the following:
David Lynch
Synecdoche, New York
Edward Hopper
Narrative Photography
Those cool Japanese paintings that illustrate subjects in the midst of their environment.
I recant my previous review. Crewdson is picking up where Lynch left off in showing us the bizarre beauty of America. This is what Americana looks like to people not born and raised here. To compose these sorts of images means at least three things to me: 1) You have, at some point, been painfully ripped out of the common American ideological framework; 2) You have a deep appreciation of the beauty of those things we take for granted as commonplaces; and 3) Not simply do you have an appreciation of the beauty of the commonplaces in themselves, but you also have a sense for the inherit strangeness and wonder of the American narrative.
Reccommended for people who like the following:
David Lynch
Synecdoche, New York
Edward Hopper
Narrative Photography
Those cool Japanese paintings that illustrate subjects in the midst of their environment.
December 3, 2014
Crewdson's photo book hits the perfect note between eerie familiarity and creepy confusion. Unlike his past books, the images in this collection don't have the theatrical, almost unbelievably staged, look. Instead, the images are shot in small towns perfect for their generic blandness. Every page gave me irritating deja vu. I've been to that town, haven't I? Isn't that in Wisconsin? Or did we drive through on the way to South Dakota? Or maybe somewhere in Minnesota? While the towns with their gently decaying houses, snow-filled streets, generic businesses and empty parking lots could be anywhere, the subjects of the images are unsettlingly striking. Why are they standing in the half-light in the middle of the intersection and what are they looking at. Who is that scared woman looking at in the mirror? What are they digging in the woods?
August 24, 2011
Picked this up because one of his photos was used as an illustration in a magazine (the cover photo of this book, actually) and I was really struck by the street scene. It turns out he does large, elaborate, staged shoots a la Jeff Wall - but I'm of the opinion that Jeff Wall does it slightly better, after reading this book. The comparisons with Edward Hopper are apt - light, isolation etc. - but he always manages to throw in an unneeded, teen drama event. Naked ladies, naked girls on stained mattresses, blood.... Stills from movies that are beautiful, but that I don't particularly care to see.
August 31, 2008
Gregory Crewdson's photographs are intricately mapped out and with the help of interior
designers, costume people, lighting technicians, and models, he was able to create these elaborate works of art that resemble cinematography more than traditional photography.
Every image here tells a story. His subjects are illuminated in such a way that they seem to glow. Almost makes me want to get up really early and experience the foggy stillness right before sunrise.
designers, costume people, lighting technicians, and models, he was able to create these elaborate works of art that resemble cinematography more than traditional photography.
Every image here tells a story. His subjects are illuminated in such a way that they seem to glow. Almost makes me want to get up really early and experience the foggy stillness right before sunrise.
August 6, 2011
I received this book as a Christmas gift and have been opening it almost daily. One feels the bloodlife of America pulsating through each and every elaborately staged photo. In the words of the book's collaborator, Russel Banks, it "tests the limits of realism while making no effort to disguise its artificiality."
PS: Apparently several of Crewdson works are shown at the Emily Fischer Landau Collection in Queens. I cannot wait to take the trip.
PS: Apparently several of Crewdson works are shown at the Emily Fischer Landau Collection in Queens. I cannot wait to take the trip.
April 28, 2012
Excellent!! The photographs, slices of small town America, are slightly surreal, and reminiscent of artist, Edward Hopper. Mr. Crewdson goes to great lengths to capture images on his large format camera. I am mesmerized by the lighting and find myself returning to the book again and again. There is no prose; none is necessary. The subject matter tells its own story, and the viewer's imagination does the rest.
If you like fine art photography, you will love "Beneath the Roses".
If you like fine art photography, you will love "Beneath the Roses".
June 5, 2016
Crewdson is stellar, and this book featured his stellar photographs, but not much else. I wish there were deeper essays, explanations, stills and sketches, etc.. In the opening piece it was said that Crewdson kept meticulous records, so why aren't we seeing them? Amazing pictures, again, but just amazing pictures.
April 22, 2013
zoned out people ignoring the zoned out nude standing next to them. weird lighting. i dont think its going to inspire anyone to be a better person. i dont get it, but maybe there is nothing to get, and its all about a vibe, and it creates a certain vibe to be sure
September 11, 2013
The book is no where near as good as the documentary, but worth taking a look. The film Brief Encounters is very good.
http://www.amazon.com/Gregory-Crewdso...
http://www.amazon.com/Gregory-Crewdso...
April 5, 2017
Lots of disconnection. Scattered items of hopelessness. Drugs. Snow. A pinch of poverty. Just shallow tepid lives of lost souls. Stranded on an isolated street of mud and discarded pieces of broken down life.
September 8, 2010
Most interesting photo shoots.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 32 reviews