Bromoils
are spooky and subtle. They are
implicitly about time. At first glance
they can resemble old photographs, like Daguerreotypes, for instance. But on closer inspection they’re also very
different. Greater detail, particularly
in the midrange emerges, so that the experience of looking at them is not so
much the experience of discovering what has been lost, but seeing hidden detail
emerge. In that respect they can have an
aesthetic effect like the Meisterstiche of Albrecht Durer.
A
friend of ours, Elise Lajeunesse, practices the art and we went to her
exhibition at the Sprague Branch of the Salt Lake City Public Library last
night. The subjects of the images in the
collection are eclectic and surprising, from medieval cathedrals and castles to
lost Coney Island posters to landscapes.
The room where they’re being shown is spacious and pleasant and the art
is well lit which isn’t always the case.
We’ve just seen the “Witches and Wicked Bodies” exhibition at the
British Museum, which includes some of Durer’s wood block prints, and this
morning I find myself considering art that is dynamic through the subtle emergence
of detail which can be ironic, even shocking.
In
Michelangelo Antonioni’s movie “Blow-Up” the photographer discovers a murder as
he sequentially blows-up images of a photograph of a man and woman in Maryon
Park in London. As the images are
cropped and exploded the detail increases in contrast making it more severe and
the visual revelation of the murder almost gothic. That came to mind last night as I was looking
at Elise’s elegant and mysterious image of Winchester Cathedral.
One
last thing, one of the other aspects of Bromoils I find appealing is the
process of creating the image itself. It
can begin digitally, but, the longest, most difficult and labor intensive portion of the process is
physical and requires a highly personal and subjective manipulation of ink
and paper.
No comments:
Post a Comment