Gritty, glorious life in the city
Art
Situated within the tradition of postwar photography — or what
photo-historian Naomi Rosenblum specifically referred
to as “the straight image” and encompassing photographers such as Harry
Callahan, Garry Winogrand, Lee Friedlander, and Helen
Levitt, among others — is the work of Larry
Merrill, whose selection of photographs comprises an ongoing body of work taken
over the past several years.
From the end of WWII until the late 1960s our nation was
characterized by political conformism and unabashed consumerism, and many
artists embarked upon investigations of “pure form” and new ways to present new
social realities. Like the young photographers coming of age in the United States
after World War II, Merrill uses a formal language to convey what he wants to
say about his subject matter that is both personal and insightful.
And his subject is New
York, especially New Yorkers. When asked about why New York and not, say, Chicago,
Merrill replied that he “knows” New
York: he grew up in the city and even still has family
there. As such, along with his interest in people and things in general,
Merrill is also interested in issues of privacy and personal space in public
settings.
For example, in “Untitled #12,” a woman’s legs, visible only from
the knees down, jut out from beneath a telephone booth that also doubles as a
signboard for a Cellini watch ad. From her posture, legs crossed at the ankle
and calves ever so slightly inclined, we imagine that she is relaxed. If
nothing else, it is a less self-conscious stance. Meanwhile, a man strolls by,
and although we see neither the body of the woman nor the head of the man, we
somehow “know” their respective genders.
It is this sense of
the familiar — however specious our notion of the familiar may be — that
makes Merrill’s photographs intriguing. These scenes capturing snippets of a
social landscape are appropriately ambiguous as well. “Untitled #13” features a
nicely dressed woman rummaging in her (faux?) croco
bag. She wears a snappy black jacket with white cording on the collar over a
pale pink blouse paired with a short pale pink skirt with ruffles at the hem.
She’s so well coordinated that even her pointy-toed ankle strap pumps are pink
with black patent trim. So, what’s the problem? Well, the poor woman has a terrible
scowl on her face — bad day already? — and some fashionistas might take issue with the woman’s outfit. You know, something like Glamour’s Fashion “Dos” and “Don’ts.”
The bottom line, however, is that there’s a real palpable, uneasy urban
tension, not unlike what one might find in a Winogrand
or Friedlander.
In a very simple documentary manner, the photographs show what
was there in the photographer’s viewfinder. But since Merrill’s formal language
is also about rhythm and interval, it’s as if the images
“have really swerved into the oncoming traffic of that,” as Merrill puts
it. A practically literal representation of the latter is found in “Untitled
#16,” where two people pass in a crosswalk.
Walking away from the photographer, a woman in a turquoise skirt
saunters by a man in khakis approaching the photographer. They apparently don’t
know each other and yet the woman’s bare arm grazes against the shirted belly
of the man. Where her walking hip movement seems to swing into the man’s thigh,
he in turn parries the gesture as if part of a well-choreographed dance. Still,
these two are either so focused or so oblivious that their “collision” barely
seems to register for either of them. Indeed, their apparent unwillingness to
avoid one another presumes a kind of determined arrogance such that neither
thought nor bothered to move. And there’s that tension again. That rhythmic ebb
and flow of the urban environment; of tangible, gritty, glorious life in the
city.
Larry Merrill Photographs | through
January 7 | M. Early Gallery, 80
Rockwood Place | Gallery hours: Tuesday 3-6 p.m.,
Thursday 4-7 p.m., Saturday 2-5 p.m.; or by appointment | 232-3380
This article appears in Dec 6-12, 2006.
