In 1973, California artist John Divola began the first of three highly ambitious and original bodies of work that form Three Acts, the first book dedicated to them. His Vandalism series comprises black-and-white photographs of interiors of abandoned houses. Entering illegally, Divola spray-painted markings that referenced action painting as readily as the graffiti that was then becoming a cultural phenomenon. For the following year's Los Angeles International Airport Noise Abatement series, he photographed a condemned neighborhood bought out to serve as a noise buffer for new runways, focusing on evidence of previous unsanctioned entries by other vandals. His final work, Zuma, documents the destruction of an abandoned beachfront property by the artist and others, as it deteriorates frame by frame and eventually burns. Divola has much in common with artists such as Bruce Nauman and Robert Smithson who have used photography to investigate other topics. He describes his innovative practice succinctly: "My acts, my painting, my photographing, my considering, are part of, not separate from, this process of evolution and change. My participation was not so much one of intellectual consideration as one of visceral involvement."
Collects my three favorite series from Divola, featuring creative vandalism of abandoned houses in the Los Angeles area in the mid '70s. All the work in here is staggering. A motherlode of still potent ideas that's served as inspiration for folks like Roger Ballen. One quibble: Why are so many of the photos shown at a small size? It's a shame because they gain significant presence and magnetism when they're allowed more space.
Really fascinating, and I'd give it more stars if I had liked the first section more. The middle segment on the neighborhood and houses abandoned to create a noise buffer for Los Angeles airport is gorgeous and strange and 5 stars+, and I like a number of photographs from the last section, Zuma. There's something very 1970's about all this, in a good way. The '70's don't lose their grotesqueness, but because there are no people in the photos, there's no carnival, just loneliness, outrage, destruction, defacement, and a very fat middle finger is served up to society.