Forgotten Places

Artistic impulses drive people to some of the strangest and most seemingly desolate places. Take, for instance, an old, decommissioned tire factory, the site of the most affecting imagery in the exhibition called “The Spirit of Forgotten Places,” at the Janss / Nichols Gallery in Thousand Oaks.

In the early 1980s, photographer Ray McSavaney gained access to the dusty, decaying expanse of the old Uniroyal Tire Factory. The sprawling, kitschy castle-like edifice along Interstate 5, south of Los Angeles, has in the ‘90s been reborn as the factory outlet mall known as the Citadel. But when McSavaney visited, it was a series of empty, functionless spaces, full of dust and debris, free of human intervention.

In his black and white images, shafts of light pierce vast rooms, beneath viscera of ducts, pipes and rafters. An office area, long since abandoned by workers, becomes a graceful composition, an etude in geometry.

Surprisingly, these humble images articulate the quietude of architectural spaces, one that in its decayed, non-populated state offers a more elegant and contemplative view. To coin a phrase, McSavaney’s series is a post-industrial paean. Taken as a metaphor, the pictures convey the temporary nature of human industry and production.

A similar, though distinct, quality is conveyed in Don Kirby’s photographs of ghostly old buildings, architectural castoffs with their own musty charm. Time-ravaged dwellings, the wallpaper peeled and walls beginning to crumble, are depicted with a kind of romanticizing awe in Kirby’s close-up interior views. In another singular image, “The Nolan House, Douglas, WA,” a single lonely wooden structure stands in a field, as if an iconic testament to the taming of the Wild West.

Both photographers also take the stated theme of “Forgotten Places” into the darker depths of American history, photographing Native American dwellings with a caring, humble eye. Kirby shows a series of images of the Anasazi ruins in Utah, impressive cliff dwellings with an occasional pictograph on the wall.

The ancestral sites shot in Colorado by McSavaney are as remarkable on archeological terms as the photographs are on reportorial terms. These are historical landmarks that come equipped with a particular emotional baggage, related to the vanished indigenous American culture. It’s gone, but hardly forgotten.

The theme of the main exhibition, “The Spirit of Forgotten Places,” is neatly contained in the show’s title. Both photographers search for meaning and heritage in remote locales, while also pointing to the fleeting nature of human habitats and workplaces.

In the back of the gallery we find the work of Larry Janss, the gallery’s co-owner and a fine photographer in his own right. Currently on view are shots from his Grand Canyon series. We have seen these images before, albeit in a larger form, when they were projected for audience members during the New West Symphony’s performance of Grofe’s “Grand Canyon Suite.”

Also in the back gallery, young photographer Mark Bash, who studied with Janss, shows his work, including “Tunnel Carizo Gorge,” an intriguing exercise in sharply defined dark and light, in that order of prominence.

DETAILS

“The Spirit of Forgotten Places,” through June 25 at Janss / Nichols Gallery, 1408 Thousand Oaks Blvd. in Thousand Oaks. Gallery hours: 10 a.m.-3 p.m., Tue.-Fri. or by appointment; 497-3720.

Josef Woodard, who writes about art and music, can be reached by e-mail at joeinfo@aol.com