By Show and Tell
By Bree Davies
By Bree Davies
By Cory Casciato
By Emilie Johnson
By Robin Edwards
By Bree Davis
By Josiah M. Hesse
Given Sakura Square's artistically correct on-the-edge-of-LoDo location and its modern style--1970s brutalist, all concrete, aggregate and glass, with a whisper of Japanese flair--MoCA/D's move there makes a lot of sense. The area is in bad need of spiffing up, however. The gift shop at the entrance should go, and so should those ersatz Chinese-style security grates that cover the glass curtain-walls facing both the garden and the Larimer Street front. But these are easy cosmetic fixes, and even in its current scruffy condition, Sakura Square--complete with Buddhist temple and a two-story pavilion that could accommodate more than a half-dozen galleries--is a good fit for the youthful, transitional MoCA/D.
Florals was curated by Denver photographer, teacher and MoCA/D trustee Mark Sink, who used his wide network of contacts to invite a mix of old friends and new acquaintances from across the country. As a result, Florals features a bouquet of ideas. The exhibit includes some historic photos and some new, experimental ones; classic shots done in traditional black and white hang side by side with mechanical prints and conceptual pieces. But the show is so dense--and hung so free-form--that viewers may miss some of the ideas Sink lays out. For example, the oldest images--the late Karl Blossfeldt's photogravures from the 1920s--are in the second-to-last segment instead of up front, where they would have worked better.
But even if Florals is confusingly arranged, it's still a beauty. One of its strengths is that, like MoCA/D's 1997 premier exhibit on the mezzanine of 1999 Broadway that highlighted selections from local private collections, Florals integrates international figures with local ones. But it also offers thoughtful reflection on a current trend in fine-art photography--the widespread revival of interest in the humble flower picture.
Photographs of flowers were common in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries but then fell out of favor. This point is made clear by comparing those Blossfeldts with the lone Paul Outerbridge, also dating from the '20s. The Blossfeldt photogravure "Symphytum Officianale," from 1928, is a dead-center shot of a lovely cluster of buds. It makes sense: A beautiful subject leads to a beautiful photo. But the modern movement, just then coming to full speed, was suspicious of easy virtue in pictures and so took a different approach to beauty, one clearly revealed in Outerbridge's "Waterford Vase" of 1924. In this vintage platinum print by the deceased Los Angeles photographer, the flowers, rather than being the centerpiece of the photo, have been cropped out of the top of the frame. While accomplished photographers continued to make flower pictures into the 1930s, the fad was definitely fading.
For more than the next fifty years, serious fine-art photographers only rarely looked to flowers for their subject matter. Boston's Marie Cosindas was one of those exceptions, and Sink has included several of her color pieces, including a number in her patented--and arduous--dye-transfer technique. But for the most part, flower photos were degraded by the modernists as sappy and sentimental, a subject better left to hobbyists.
Then, in the 1980s, the late Robert Mapplethorpe brought them back--and no one could accuse mad dog Mapplethorpe, the vanguard New York photographer, of being either sappy or sentimental. Sink has included a five-piece suite from Mapplethorpe's magnificent "Calla Lily" series of 1984, loaned to MoCA/D by the Ron Judish Gallery. The five silver prints, each of which places a closeup of a white blossom against a dense black ground in the manner of Edward Weston, represent key moments in the revival of the flower as a fit subject for photography. So it's not surprising that many of the newer photos in Florals reveal the influence of Mapplethorpe's flower studies. For some reason, though, Sink and MoCA/D's Jason Musgrave decided to stick the Mapplethorpes in a back corner of the balcony rather than showcase them on the main floor, where these seminal pieces belong.
There's no denying Mapplethorpe's impact on one of the country's current hot photographers, and no wonder: New Yorker Tom Baril printed many of those flower photos when he worked as Mapplethorpe's assistant. Here Baril is represented by a unique, toned silver print from a Polaroid, the mislabeled "Hyacinth" (it's clearly something else, perhaps a pansy) from 1998. Using a rich palette of blacks, grays and silvers, Baril places the closeup of the back of the flower on a dark silvery ground. Unlike the Mapplethorpes, this single Baril photo is given a prominent display space, on its own wall facing the staircase.
Kevin O'Connell, a member of the Denver Salon, also tips his lens to Mapplethorpe with a series of tiny, luscious platinum Palladian prints of stems and blossoms set on a deeply toned black field. In 1995's "Three Onions," the seed heads are clustered in a jumble of whiplash lines; in "Dying Hibiscus #2," a very Mapplethorpian image, the withering bloom, seen in profile, is lyrically set off-center. Very much in the same mood is the self-described "Dahlia in Water," a toned 1998 silver print by Japanese photographer Tamaki Obuchi.