ART REVIEWS : Winogrand’s Vignettes From Urban Landscape

Described by scholar and curator John Szarkowski as “the central photographer of his generation for the way his work maps changes in the U.S. social climate from the ‘50s to the ‘80s,” Garry Winogrand is credited with pioneering the “snapshot aesthetic”--a label he vehemently disliked. Winogrand’s objection to the term is understandable in that while there’s certainly an unstudied, candid quality to his work, his pictures have considerably more depth than you’ll find in most snapshots.

The subject of an exhibition opening this Friday at the Jan Kesner Gallery in Hollywood, Winogrand (who died of cancer at the age of 56 in 1984) was an urban artist who shot much of his best known work on the streets of New York. A resolutely unsentimental man with an extraordinary eye for the subtle complexities of human relations, Winogrand had a knack for infusing small, ordinary moments with mystery and grandeur. Cleansed of any trace of quaintness or cliche, his slice-of-life vignettes have a crisp emotional edge that’s largely attributable to his unorthodox style. Winogrand cropped his pictures abruptly and shot at weird angles, and his pictures often include several focal points of action; this gives the viewer the sense of being completely immersed in the glorious, terrifying fray of life.

By all accounts an intense and cantankerous character, Winogrand was born in New York in 1928 and after an unfruitful stint studying painting at Columbia, began taking pictures while in the Air Force during World War II. In 1951 he became a photo agency free-lancer and in 1952 began working for advertising agencies. He spent the next 15 years developing his work as a fine artist in relative obscurity, then in 1967 was included in the ground-breaking “New Documents” exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art. His career was off and running.

In 1969 Winogrand published “The Animals,” his first book (three more were to follow). The work from the book was shown at MOMA the year it was published, and that exhibition is re-created here for the first time, in a slightly abbreviated form.

Shot at several New York zoos during the ‘60s, the “The Animals” is as much a study of human behavior as it is of caged animals. Winogrand basically used the zoo as a kind of visual counterpoint or backdrop, so don’t expect any upbeat, adorable animal pictures here. Rather, Winogrand’s animals comport themselves with a weary dignity that’s moving and rather sad. Moreover, his animals are frequently upstaged by people who appear distracted, vaguely unhappy, and not terribly interested in the animals they ostensibly came to see. In a way, this series can be described as a visual essay on a particular kind of loneliness--the loneliness peculiar to crowded public places in big cities.

This is particularly true of an untitled image depicting seals in a cement pond whose function for Winogrand is to provide foreground for the human drama taking place on the other side of the fence. There we see a solitary woman brushing away a tear, next to two lovers lost in each other, next to a man alone and deep in thought, oblivious to the seals. It’s an exquisite picture.

Several images have flourishes of humor--a pair of monkeys appear to wave goodby, the formidable fangs of a bear clamp around a sign that says “Bear”--but Winogrand was too gifted an artist to assume a laugh was enough, and his “funny” pictures always have more going on. For anyone who missed MOCA’s excellent Winogrand retrospective in 1988, this wonderful show offers a good opportunity to become acquainted with one of the great photographers of the modern era.

Jan Kesner Gallery: 164 N. La Brea Ave., (213) 938-6834, to Feb 16. Closed Sunday and Monday.

Into the Mystic: Bardo is a Tibetan term referring to a state of passage and opportunity that occurs shortly after death, prior to being reincarnated into a new life. At this point one is besieged by the fruits of the life recently left behind, and wisdom and courage are required to weather the storm of karma that swirls around the traveling soul.

Ten of the 24 paintings that make up Darren Waterston’s show of new work at the Jan Baum Gallery in Hollywood feature the word bardo in their title, so we’re given a good idea of what he’s up to. Described by Waterston as landscapes, these atmospheric, darkly romantic vistas owe a good deal to the mystical nature scenes of Turner and Church, but where those past masters tethered their paintings in the real world, Waterston’s are rooted in the landscape of the mind and spirit. His pictures have a liquid, transitory quality evocative of emotional states, of understandings fleetingly glimpsed then obscured by the mist of confusion.

Just 25 years old, Waterston shows remarkable restraint for one so young. Inspired by the poets and philosophers of Germany, writer Ranier Maria Rilke, and Eastern religions, he interprets very grand themes with great subtlety. Visually his work is a struggle between light and dark--obviously a metaphor for the conflict between faith and faithlessness--and most of his paintings involve fluid washes of color (evocative of the Abstract Expressionism of Clyfford Still) punctuated with tiny bursts of white light. Like New York landscapists Mark Innerst and Joan Nelson, Waterston’s work shimmers with a magical patina of age that he achieves by using classical materials (oil, encaustic, beeswax) and presenting his work in heavy “antique” frames.

As Van Morrison did on his brilliant album of 1969, “Astral Weeks,” Waterston’s paintings investigate profound spiritual yearnings--things beyond language, at the very furthest reaches of human comprehension. And like Morrison, Waterston dances around those themes with insight and grace beyond his years.

Jan Baum Gallery: 170 S. La Brea Ave., (213) 932-0170, to Feb. 9. Closed Sunday and Monday.

It’s a Dog’s Life: Four L.A. photographers make their local debut in a group show titled “Eclectic Images” on view at the Cure Gallery in Hollywood. There’s no connecting theme linking the work, rather, the show simply serves to introduce four different sensibilities.

The most original work here is by Scott C. Schulman, who’s come up with a fresh and quirky way to photograph dogs. Schulman shoots pictures from strange angles in blurry focus, and the only thing that reads clearly in his dog portraits are their snouts. Consequently, the dogs all look slightly crazed and dangerous.

David Snow shows portraits of artists who’ve recently been given the cold shoulder by the NEA, among them John Fleck, Rachel Rosenthal, and the ubiquitous Robbie Conal (who seems to be running a race with Peter Sellars for the most relentlessly high visibility in Los Angeles).

James Arkatov shows work from his recently published book, “Masters of Music: Great Artists at Work,” a photographic study of leading figures from the world of classical music, along with a mixed bag of portraits that includes Gorbachev, David Hockney, the Dalai Lama, Ted Kennedy--and yes, Peter Sellars. Arkatov is a competent portraitist in that he refrains from imposing his own sensibility on his subjects, choosing instead to allow the essential character of the people he photographs to fill the frame.

Where Arkatov is simple and direct, Dennis Potokar is mannered and contrived. Potokar does color photographs of assemblages that put one in mind of the way fashion photography appropriated Surrealism. Technically slick, beautifully lit pictures of oddly arranged, kooky props, Potokar’s images may work as illustration but they don’t cut it as art.

Cure Gallery: 8022 Melrose Ave., (213) 653-3877, to Jan 15. Closed Sunday and Monday.