Signs & Relics is an exploration of the world from a photographer's point of view -- in this case, noted Village Voice photographer Sylvia Plachy. Her engaging images -- some light and humorous, some somber -- show particular people and places at precise moments of synchronicity. Plachy draws telling metaphors from the photographs, which are grouped into nineteen thematic sections. "Sit," for example, shows images ranging from a wood chair in a Parisian window to a woman perched in a tree to Barbie atop a pair of high-heeled legs.
Fragments of dreams and memories coexist with images from the streets of the world and photographs of people, from Plachy's family to viewers at an art exhibition. The text suggests the ties that draw the views together and simultaneously offers insights into the photographer's personal philosophy. The various sections form a mosaic in which the pieces refer to each other and to the notion that the present is rooted in the past and that any view of the world -- photographic or theoretical -- is part of an unseen ensemble.
I have become fastidious about what photographers should allow their work to do. It should not exploit, it should not appropriate, it should not exotify or fetishise the Other, it should not make beauty out of suffering, it should not celebrate colonisation or violence. And also it should not be passive, be a marker that only denotes what it shows; it should create new meaning in the space between photographer, subject and viewer.
Since I'm so fastidious, it's quite a strong compliment for me to say that Plachy's practice doesn't offend me! I enjoy her whimsical, personal work. The meanings she makes are touching, but they belong to her, and sometimes I can't look with her vision. When I can, it's fabulous! When she says 'I often wish I were invisible: to see and not be seen. I wouldn't have to reveal myself', it's glorious that she challenges herself and celebrates the photographs that follow where the subject looks. These are the most interesting images here to me because they interrogate the meaning of the gaze and question the power of photographer and viewer. Even when the subjects are inanimate, they sometimes answer back or rebel under Plachy's scrutiny.
The description 'evocative' that is applied to Plachy and her countryman Kertesz is insufficient for me because many of her photographs and meanings are so personal and superstitious that they are like private jokes. Sometimes they are sentimental, demanding tribute to supposedly universal feelings. Sometimes her work evokes something for me, and then I like it. When it doesn't, then I don't. This dependence on agreement, on... phenomenological convergence... limits her work for me. But maybe it's only my own failure of imagination.