Thomas Ruff, phg.01, 2012. Chromogenic print from the Photograms series.

Thomas Ruff, Zycles 3080, 2009. Made with Cinema 4D software.

WORDS BY: John D’Agostino

Thomas Ruff: ma.r.s.08, 2010.

Ruff takes the NASA generated imagery and effectively “colorizes” the images himself, much as Ted Turner did some years ago with black and white movies. This lends a surreal, eerie and fictional quality to the images, as the color is quite literally ‘added’ after the fact, and not simply tuned or adjusted.

‘It is maybe because photography has been misused such a lot that I think you have to be very careful when you’re looking at a photograph. You always have to know the conditions under which it has been made – because otherwise you cannot read it, or you could misunderstand it, or the image can be misused. Since photography is such a realistic medium, it pretends that everything you’re looking at was in front of the camera. But in the meantime it wasn’t.’          -Thomas Ruff

If photography pretends to show us reality, Ruff delights in showing us the deception behind it, almost as a kind of Penn & Teller figure, eager to pull back the curtain on the manipulations in his process.

Thomas Ruff, Andere Portrait, 1985.

One of Ruff’s lesser hailed but brilliant projects is his series of Anderes portraits. Using an analog machine Berlin police used in the 1970′s to create composite pictures of witness descriptions, Ruff reconstructed artificial faces, mixing two faces at a time, male with male, male with female.

Ruff’s photographs have lost their innocence. Their new-found authenticity, if they have one, is in a pre-arranged reality true to Ruff’s vision of it. He considers himself an investigator of the medium.

His photograms series, currently up at Zwirner gallery, turns this well known photographic tradition on its head, making them digital, multiple, and enlarging them to gigantic sizes.

Formerly one of the most ‘handmade’ of mediums, made literally by placing objects directly onto photographic paper and exposing them without a camera (to great effect by masters like Maholy-Nagy or Man Ray), Ruff’s illusory depths here are created entirely in computer via a ‘virtual darkroom’ that employs lighting effects and simulated objects.

Thomas Ruff, r.phg.03, 2012. Chromogenic print.

Ruff’s work is a repeated exercise in a technology mediated vision, where process is unavoidable. And yet, it is, in the end, as always, a promise.

New technology promises us that it will allow us to see new kinds of images – and that the images made with these processes will be inherently new, exciting, significant. And that these images will be as good, if not better? than the old-fashioned handmade.

The digital may indeed yet fulfill all of these promises. Or it may not. Interestingly, much of Ruff’s latest work is so quite literally computer generated that some of his projects could technically be thought of as more “computer illustration” than photography. For Ruff’s “zycles” and photograms, (unlike his colorized MA.R.S pictures for example), have no actual counterpart in any kind of reality.

For me, the most troubling aspect of this technological promise is the degree (or not) to which such processes can still project at least a modicum level of humanity, for that in the end, is the eternal question. Do computer generated images eventually throw out the baby with the bathwater? Do they somehow lose their humanity in the process? At present this is still unclear.


The machine made image is here. And it is here to stay – that is unavoidable. Someday, as artificial intelligence experts think , we may even have autonomous AI’s, specially designed ‘artistic’ programs, that will create works of art for us all by themselves.

But whether these computer generated forms can still teach us something about ourselves? or somehow convey human passions, human concerns, human ambitions? That is another matter. Or if these new processes, now stripped of their humanity, just provide us back with the cold, logical stare of an algorithm, a computation, a set of data. The artist, now effectively handicapped and complacent, content to just show whatever the machine can now make – much easier than he ever could.

In some cases, technology serves only to terribly alienate both producer and audience. This is no better illustrated than by the sad testament of George Lucas’s Star Wars prequel films, whose hamfisted and uncomfortable scenes of dialogue make the original films sound like high Shakespeare. It was often not the actors fault, for Lucas, in love with new technology, forced the hapless all-star cast to stare into empty green screens all day,  “imagining” a dialogue with a to-be-later-added CGI character. Perhaps this is an apt metaphor too, this imagining a non-existent dialogue with technology.

However, the key, I believe, particularly for Ruff, is in his role as mediator of the machine. The real art in his work, if you will, is in the mediation. In the quality, in the degree to which (or not) he can effectively and subtly manipulate the computer generated effects to his own personal ends. At times, his work does indeed feel revolutionary and daring, his commitment to a new visionary kind of take on photography assured.

The HAL 9000 from Stanley Kubrick’s film, 2001: A Space Odyssey.

And yet, at other times, some works come across as a little too cold and impersonal, a little too scientific? A little too artificial. One is reminded of the critique of another great science fiction auteur, director Stanley Kubrick, whose  gloomy genius some critics felt lacked an emotional richness, and eventually sympathized a bit too much with the inhuman over the human: all those automated dolly shots into the distance, the sinister HAL computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey, the sadistic drill sergeants screaming at Marine drones in Full Metal Jacket, sexual fantasy and love reduced to shattered myths in the widely misunderstood Eyes Wide Shut. In Kubrick’s seminal Paths of Glory, years earlier, it was all too clear that Kirk Douglas  was  fighting against the automated systems of bureaucracy and control, even if the war could not be won, it was something to at least be resisted. But in later films, it is not so clear at all. The machine, it would seem, finally won.

Actress Sean Young as Rachel, the haunting Replicant, in Ridley Scott’s Bladerunner, 1982.

And yet, the artificial does not always have to be inhuman, as Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner reminds us. Ironically, the most “human” and rich and emotionally complex characters in this dystopian future are arguably the Replicants, the artificially created ‘simulation’ human beings. Harrison Ford’s Deckard realizes that his role as bounty hunter / pseudo slave-catcher is the actual act of dehumanization, made even more poignant by the final possibility that he is a Replicant himself, tricked into hunting down his own kind because he is told they are inferior beings. Interestingly, Blade Runner’s Replicants have a passion for photographs – they need them! even if they are based on untrue memories.

As Alan Turing famously hypothesized in his Turing test, the day we are convinced we are conversing with a human being, but rather are in fact really communicating with just a computer or artificial intelligence program, is the day we must treat and “think” of the artificial as the human -even if it isn’t. 

So too, would I then prophesize a ‘Turing Test’ of sorts for the likes of computer generated artwork from artists the like of Thomas Ruff. The times we are fooled into thinking we may be looking at the hand of a human being, and not just some satellite or computer algorithm, is perhaps when this mechanized imagery is at its most brilliantly treacherous, when it is its most compelling.

For while Ruff’s endless experimentations and machinations are inherently fascinating to document and discuss, in the end, the degree to which they can somehow convey the human? is their real test, in my eyes.

In their eerie starkness, their ghostly afterimage, made entirely in the machine, some new kind of humanity – may just emerge.

Thomas Ruff’s photograms at Zwirner gallery, Spring 2013.

Thomas Ruff’s Photograms and MA.R.S exhibited at David Zwirner in New York, Spring of 2013.

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Barbara Kasten, Studio Construct 69, 2008, Archival pigment print.

WORDS BY: John D’Agostino

Barbara Kasten, Construct LB/5, 1982. Polaroid.

Of course, eventually the great Modernists did succeed in raising Photography’s status to that of the highest of high art, where it is, today, with its own little gallery down the museum halls, just like they always wanted.

But today, many people are still unaware of some of the costs that came with this great success, this so called “separate department” of Art. For, possibly unlike any other medium, to achieve this unique status, Photography had to be conventionalized. It had to be institutionalized – to perhaps to a greater degree than any other medium. Certain things had to be in, others, out. The medium had to have some particular rules, some conventions, some cliches that necessitated and always somehow justified that separate gallery. And so of course there was always that inherent danger that if the medium ever starting looking or acting a little bit “too much” like those bigger brothers, that it threatened its own funding and livelihood. An almost willful ignorance happily developed.

And so, fine art Photography, still to this day, relies on this false premise that every medium has its “own” discrete agenda, its “own” personal aesthetics. As a result, a kind of incestuous quality spawned in the medium, wherein it sought to isolate itself from other mediums and influences. Photography increasingly referenced only itself, and only its own history, seemingly oblivious to the wider world out there.

This was very humorously brought home to me at a recent panel discussion for the AIPAD show at Hunter College in New York on the history of Color Photography, where much of the discussion referenced the big “discovery” of color starting out with the seminal color work of photographers like William Eggleston in the 1960′s and 70′s. But Ms. Kasten sort of ruined this happy little narrative, by suggesting that unlike other photographers on the panel, to her, that’s not when she “discovered” color. Color was already “there,” she said, in fact, it was always there. She just wasn’t thinking only like a photographer, assuming black and white was the default, or only, tradition.

Think of someone like director Quentin Tarantino, and all the endless cinephile “movie and TV only” pop culture references in his films, and you will get a vibe for this kind of incestuous overtone I describe, one that lionizes particular influences, but eschews others. Even to this day, 100 years later, Pictorialism and so called ‘painterly’ concerns are still marginalized, all those great Modernist photographers having finally succeeded in championing their more Purist notions of the photographic print and what it should “do” – and not do.

Of course, someday Photography may just have to come to terms with all of this, and much like with the real Brown vs. Board of Education in the civil rights movement, realize what it may have to give up in its precious isolation to gain in a wider and more integrated synthesis with all of the Arts.

Barbara Kasten, Studio Construct 125, 2011, Archival pigment print.

Regardless, it is with a unique pleasure we consider the work of Barbara Kasten, who does not seem at all to be constrained by any of these limiting concerns. Quite the contrary, her influences are many and diverse, including Lazló Moholy-Nagy and the Bauhaus, Constructivism, Robert Irwin and James Turrell to name just a few. And probably not by accident, unlike many a photography student today, she came to photography indirectly, trained initially as a painter in the late 1950′s, experimenting with sculpture and soft material in the 60′s, eventually turning to the two dimensional photograph only by the 70′s.

And this is where her sophistication is apparent. Balancing menace and elegance, Kasten synthesizes sculpture, painting and architecture to create new forms. Unlike many others, photography is material to her; she uses real space, rather than just, say, moving elements on paper, or working cameraless in the darkroom in the tradition of say the conventional photogram. Rather, she builds what she likes to call “Constructs” in her studio out of a variety of objects – Plexiglas panels, spheres, mirrors, pyramids, columns, paper, and then photographs them in light and shade.

Barbara Kasten, IV-B, 1980. Cibachrome.

Kasten’s images have weight and depth, sharp edges that hover above and hurtle down. Her work has the push and pull of a painting, but along with the complicated environment that only the light and shadow of the photographic can provide. As Estelle Jussim wrote: “They are theatre, sculpture, painting, light play–all masquerading as photographs.”

Her medium is photography, but it is not conventionally conceived.  Often they have a Freudian quality to them. It is hard to ignore all those dangerous, sharp edges, those pointy glass shards, and not imagine some kind of knife, some kind of weapon, penetrations.

Barbara Kasten, Construct III-C, 1980. Polaroid Print.

Barbara Kasten is represented by Bortolami Gallery in New York, Gallery Luisotti in Santa Monica and Jessica Silverman Gallery in San Francisco. Her website is www.barbarakasten.net

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Bill Armstrong, Untitled (Film Noir #1436).

The Edge of Vision: The Rise of Abstraction in Photography by Lyle Rexer. Cover by Bill Armstrong.

 


“Now I have to learn the craft of a blind man.”                                                                                  – a friend quoting painter Edgar Degas.



When Edgar Degas enlisted in the Franco-Prussian War in 1870, he had trouble seeing the rifle targets with his right eye. Over the course of the next decades, Degas eye problems would only get worse. Glare and sunlight bothered him terribly. He saw black spots. Eventually he would need a maid to read to him. He took to making wax figures, partly just to have something he could mold and feel, and not just visualize. Degas fought a creeping blindness for the rest of his life, eventually forced sadly to give up painting in 1912.



Could some of Degas’ best work be because of his blurred vision and creeping blindness, and not just in spite of it?


But the resultant effects of this deteriorating vision on his artistic production we know all too well. Both Degas’ later watercolors and sculptures have an incredible vitality to them. In later years, his strokes loosen, widen, and become more free. There is not the same detail as was in his earlier work, certainly, but there is also a curious, new hazy glow to his figures, as they dance and shimmer in pastel.

A computer simulation of Degas’ eyesight by Dr. Michael F. Marmor, a professor of ophthalmology at
Stanford.

Dr. Michael F. Marmor, a professor of ophthalmology at Stanford, uses computer simulations to envision what he thinks might have happened to the vision of some of the Impressionists. Monet’s eye problems are of course well known, and so many have speculated that the Impressionists increasing tendencies towards abstraction may have in part due to such optical concerns. 

Historical speculation has suggested that Degas suffered from some form of retinal disease or macular degeneration. Interestingly, among other effects, patients with macular disease often tend to choose stronger colours because they perceive a colour’s intensity more weakly. The intense colours used by Degas in his later pictures could therefore be explained – at least in part – by his eye problems.

Perhaps the work of contemporary artist Bill Armstrong is a case in point for the strange, suggestive power of the blur, and for photography’s unique ability to mirror the effects of blindness. For Armstrong’s work makes literal use of the blurred vision we think an artist like Degas was forced to suffer from -and in many cases, possibly also benefit from, adapt to, and overcome.

Bill Armstrong, Untitled (Film Noir #1408)

Bill Armstrong, Untitled (Film Noir #1405)

Actor Clarke Peters as Mardi Gras Indian chief Albert Lambreaux in Treme.

WORDS BY: John D’Agostino

Bill Armstrong, Untitled (Film Noir #1431).

Bill Armstrong is represented by Clampart in New York, Gallery Kayafas in Boston and Hackelbury Fine Art in London, among others. His website is www.billarmstrongphotography.com

Film Noir is at Clampart gallery through April 6th, 2013: 521-531 West 25th Street, New York, NY, between 10th/11th Avenues.

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Jessica Eaton, cfaal 109, Archival Pigment Print, 2011.

 
An artist friend once told me that when you don’t know what you’ll get back, that’s when you know you’re finally onto something.

Jessica Eaton says she likes to make images that surprise her, and they certainly do to us as well.


Eaton is part of a cadre of young photographers who experiment with and exploit the technical effects of the photographic medium with ingenuity, daring, and delight. (For more, see The Contemporaries, including Matthew Brandt, Christopher Colville or Bryan Graf). Her images are not visible to the naked eye, but rather exist in the realm of the photographic, often created in camera with large format film. In her “Interpolation Dramatizations” and “RGB Weaves” works, she is similarly using analogue process to symbolize digital algorithms.

Eaton often takes several exposures at a time, rendering up colours, forms and effects unconnected to any solid object. She may not know exactly what she will get back till the photographs are actually developed. Perhaps her most-recognized series is “Cubes for Albers and LeWitt,” for which she utilizes multiple exposures of cubes to explore the layering and blending of primary colors.

Jessica Eaton, cfaal 260, Archival Pigment Print, 2012

WORDS BY: John D’Agostino

Jessica Eaton, cfaal 254, Archival Pigment Print, 2012.

Jessica Eaton is represented by M+B in Los Angeles and Higher Pictures in New York. Her website is:  www.jessicaeaton.com

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Re/Mix! Innovators, Appropriators & Copyright Criminals A New Course by John D’Agostino
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Cornell Remixes Bronzino: Joseph Cornell, Medici Princess, 1952-54,  Angelo Bronzino, Portrait of Medici Girl, 1542.			Oft-times an overlooked & misunderstood tradition, the art of sampling historical source material into new works of art and music is a rewarding, sophisticated and ingenious practice rife with departures, ruptures & contradictory possibilities.
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Joseph Cornell, Medici Boy, 1943. Wood box construction using elements from Pinturicchio’s Portrait of a Boy, ca. 1500.			Raw material for artists to re-combine can be found literally anywhere, from archaic media, vinyl records, and trash, to photographs or finished works like painting. Challenging, subverting, co-opting, even re-inventing mediums, the Re-Mix in assemblage art, collage, Hip Hop music, photography and more is a tour de force of creative practice in the 21st century, encompassing an entire spectrum of originality (or lack thereof), from one-dimensional Appropriators, to Hackers, cover artists and mashups, to entirely new, emergent digital artforms.Featured artists include: Joseph Cornell, Romare Bearden, Yves Klein, Vik Muniz, Thomas Ruff, John Stezaker, Louis Comfort Tiffany, E.J. Bellocq, Dr. Lakra, Idris Khan, Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol, Kurt Schwitters, Robert Rauschenberg, Wangechi Mutu, Marcel Duchamp and Kehinde Wiley, among many others.
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			Andy Warhol, Marilyn Diptych, 1962. Acrylic on canvas, using an original publicity still of Marilyn Monroe from the film Niagara, 1953.
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Louis Comfort Tiffany, At the New Circus, ca. 1894. Favrile stained glass, using Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec’s watercolor At the Nouveau Cirque, 1892.			Re/Mix! will employ the art of sample-based Hip Hop as the quintessential paradigm for the visual artist. From the very first DJ’s of the South Bronx employing turntables and a mixer, sampling in Hip Hop music is the foundation of the genre. Much like their visual counterparts, its most innovative practitioners exemplify a selective, three-dimensional and highly sophisticated synthesis of old material into new, from producers like Prince Paul, DJ Premier and Da Beatminerz, to acts like De La Soul or Beastie Boys, to those that sample their own sounds, such as Portishead.
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Enrique Gomez de Molina, Rhinoplasty, 2010. Hybrid taxidermy sculpture, using jewel beetle wings, peacock feathers and buffalo horn.         John Stezaker, He II, 2008. Photo collage, using old film portraits.			Course Schedule Week 1: The Innovators Featured Artists: Joseph Cornell · Andy Warhol · Romare Bearden · Kurt Schwitters · Yves Klein · Laszlo Moholy-Nagy · Louis Comfort Tiffany · John Stezaker   Week 2: The Appropriators Featured Artists: Roy Lichtenstein · Marcel Broodthaers ·Sherrie Levine · Claes Oldenburg · Cindy Sherman · Vik Muniz · Jeff Koons · Banksy   Week 3: Copyright Criminals Featured Artists: Danger Mouse · Shepard Fairey · Da Beatminerz · Richard Prince ·Prince Paul · Hank Willis Thomas · Beastie Boys · Cory Arcangel   Week 4: The Bricoleurs Featured Artists: Jacques de La Villegle · Max Ernst · Wangechi Mutu · Conrad Marca-Relli · Robert Rauschenberg · Robert Heinecken · Marcel Duchamp · Dr. Lakra   Week 5: The Hackers Featured Artists: Alvin Langdon Coburn · Thomas Ruff · Adam Fuss · Walead Beshty · Lucas Samaras · Wade Guyton ·  Marco Breuer
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This course is currently in development for venues TBA 2013. For more information, please contact John D’Agostino.

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“You just go on your nerve.”

-Frank O’Hara

John D’Agostino, Corinthians, 2010.

WORDS BY: John D’Agostino
WORKS: www.EmpireofGlass.com

John D’Agostino, Loadstone Virtue, 2010.

Dreams of A Dark Abyss

The dreams of a dark abyss are a chosen hardship, like a poem.

 To enter into such a place is to engage in a poetic kind of thinking. Because the clear demarcations and road signs are all gone, only an imaginative, strenuous and curious state of mind will suffice to traverse the way. An idea of rigor pervades all poetic thinking.

Rigor is a measure of a content’s quality. It is the experience of “hard things” that are engaging and rewarding. But it is more than just a question of simply challenging or difficult content. Rather, rigorous content is personally and emotionally challenging. So too is poetry.

Poetry, as a relentless, mutli-faceted and demanding medium, has much in common with the traditions of the visual arts, most especially that of abstraction. Both abstraction and poetry are complex, ambiguous and provocative. Both have high expectations, and impossible personal standards. In both, the subject learns to “read” the poem/picture as he experiences it. The learner accepts some responsibility for his learning, and he must work to understand it. To not only elaborate on the material’s ever present suggestions, but sometimes even to add his own content to it. To complete it.

Rigor mortis, literally translated, is the stiffness of the body after death. It signifies a kind of severity, an exhaustive, point of no return, if you will. Both poetry and abstraction are similarly severe and extreme forms of their respective domains. However, perhaps ‘rigor vitae’ may be more appropriate here, as both disclipines engage a re-vivifying and re-enegergizing state of mind. The reader/viewer accepts the challenge to decode and understand the mysterious work laid before him, and is more alive for the effort.

The poetic image revels in its illusory nature. It exults in the impossible. A poetry of the impossible is a release from the constriction of normal things, an attempt to smash through the construction of the literal world. The poet’s use of words is quite different, just as the artist’s use of his imagery is different. The words are the same, the paint or ink or charcoal may be the same, but their values are different. Poeticization changes the value of well known things. They become musicalized, irretrievably transformed. The poet loves his words for their strangeness and mystery, not just for their obvious meanings.

The phenomenon of the poetic image is the phenomena of freedom. Excercise is often described as “rigorous,” and perhaps this is apt, since the rigorous image is similarly an excercise of the imagination. Mental muscles are flexed, stretched and tested. Freedom is not merely given, it must be exercised. Great images are often a blend of memory and legend. They have a history, and a pre-history. Poetic imagery engages this history, by summoning and evoking the history of images within each viewer, who must rely on the entire wealth of his mental records just to make sense of it.

Poetry, in guise as either word or image, retains a greater competition of surprises than perhaps any other discipline. It implies the decision to change the function of language, just as abstraction seeks to change the function of the literal, representational or identifiable image. What is found in either realm is that which is often passed over in daily life: the miraculous, the unknown, the undreamt of.

In the dead linen in cupboards

I seek the supernatural

- Joseph Rouffange

John D’Agostino, Entropy’s Blade, 2010.

Poetic images revel in Chinese whispers and communication breakdowns. What gets lost in the translation from person to person is often the most interesting. Imposing new meanings, misusing words, or using them for other purposes, maybe even cross purposes – is the metier of poetry. It sees the world as an iceberg: there is more below the surface of the water than above. These are not words or pictures, but maybe, ghosts.

Gaston Bachelard felt that the poetic image has a dynamic uniquely its own. That it is fundamentally variational. To read or see the poetic is to daydream. As J.P. Jouve called it, “thought enamored of the unknown.” All of Bachelard’s work, and not just his seminal The Poetics of Spaces, is in fact an eloquent and daring defense of poetry itself, which has had its many detractors, and may never win popularity contests. Surrealist Andre Breton called this animosity to the poetic the “hate of the marvelous” – arguing that the hostility towards such works was motivated more by fear and misunderstanding than by righteous contempt. This text first appeared as part of the paper The Abyss Gazes Also: The Pains and Pleasures of Seeing in the Dark by John D’Agostino, 2012.
View the full paper online here.
Purchase Hardcopy here. Daydreaming is important. It is not just lazyness. It is sophisticated, three dimensional investigation. What the poet does is essentially create a trap for dreamers. As for me, Bachelard says, “I let myself be caught.”   •

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Skeleton & Flesh (2012)

New Works from Empire of Glass

John D’Agostino, Spring Torrents, 2012 (in progress). 4 panels, approx 10×20 feet.

John D’Agostino, The Hammer of Los, 2012 (in progress). 4 panels, approx 10×20 feet.

John D’Agostino, Summit & Flower, 2012 (in progress). Diptych: approx. 60×96″

Works currently in progress for 2012′s body of work include a number of new sizes, including diptych, triptych, square and more.

For more information on these new works, please contact the artist or visit:

www.EmpireofGlass.com

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Promiscuous Visions:

The Hackers At The Heart of Photography

A New Course by John D’Agostino

-Captain Crunch, legendary Phone Phreaker.

Man Ray, Rayograph, 1925.

Matthew Brandt, From the series Rivers, Lakes & Reservoirs, 2010. C-Print soaked in source water.

John Chiara, 8th at Hooper, 2003. Dye Destruction Photograph.

Kim Keever, River Keeper, 2003. C-Print made with fishtank diorama.

Eileen Quinlan, Yellow Goya, 2007. Folded chromogenic paper.

Course Schedule

Week 1: Dégredés

Featured Artists:

Joseph Nicephore Niecpe · Marco Breuer · Lillian Bassman · E.J. Bellocq Curtis Mann · Edmund Teske  · Jacques Villeglé · John Chiara · Chris McCaw

Week 2: The Threat of Abstraction

Featured Artists:

Man Ray · Jaroslav Rossler · Barbara Kasten ·Roger Catherineau · Laszlo Moholy-Nagy · Walead Beshty · Aaron Siskind · Frederick Sommer · Eileen Quinlan

Week 3: Printers, Painters & Pictorialists

Featured Artists:

Mario Giacomelli · Jan Saudek · Alvin Langdon Coburn · Wade Guyton · Lucas Samaras · Robert Demachy · Matthew Brandt · Matt Saunders · Henry Peach Robinson

Week 4: Fire & Ice

Featured Artists:

Adam Fuss · Susan Derges · Yves Klein ·Hiroshi Sugimoto · Jorma Puranen · Kim Keever ·Wilson Bentley · Dupreez & Jones · Christopher Colville

Week 5: Digitalis Hybrida

Featured Artists:

Thomas Ruff · Jason Salavon · Andreas Gursky ·Idris Khan · Andreas Gefeller · Carter Mull ·Richard Misrach · Aziz + Cucher · Loretta Lux

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