Show Review #2: Richard Avadon at SFMOMA

Richard Avedon began his photography career in the realm of fashion, but his unconventional style of portraits combined with his ability to find interesting and captivating subjects created a niche for him in the consumer-driven art world. This current exhibit at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art presents a selection of work from his entire cannon, ranging from photos taken in the 1950s all the way to 2004, the year of his death. His work as a whole reveals the artist’s obsession with the human body (especially the face) as an aesthetized form. This review will address critiques of Avedon’s approach to photography and discuss whether he deserves a place within the realm of “high” art.

In Abigail Solomon Goddeau’s article “Art after Art Photography”, she notes that “the importance of photography within [postmodern art] is undeniable” and that post-modern photographers are successful because their “respective uses of the medium had less to do with its formal qualities per se than with the ways that photography, in its normative and ubiquitous uses, actually functions” (pg 2). Avedon’s work exhibits none of this critical analysis of methods of production, rather, he and his audience become engrossed with the subjects depicted in his work – here is an artist whose life work displays a fascination with persons and forms, not theories and experimental practices of art production. Because Avedon’s cannon exhibits a major emphasis on content, I will attempt to do an analysis of this alone in order to see whether or not Avedon is successful in producing anything other than glossy glam-art. If anything in the following three paragraphs sparks academic debate or conversation, then one must argue that Avedon’s work exists as something worthy of examination, even if he is not on the cutting edge of experimental practices.

What makes Avedon's portraits stand out is the dynamic combination of the slick professional black and white film and a real candid approach to his subjects which allows for the piece to be viewed simultaneously as an artistic composition and an examination of character. MOMA made the excellent decision to include both his portraits of famous people (such as Marilyn Monroe, Bob Dylan, Bjork, and Janis Joplin, to name a few), as well as works from his book, "In the American West", in which Avedon traveled around the Western United States, photographing people in their place of employment. The two pieces from this collection featured below - entitled "Slaughterhouse worker on the kill floor Omaha, NE", and "Thirteen Years Old Rattlesnake Skinner, Sweet Water, Texas", were taken in Texas in 1979. I have purposefully put these two pieces next to the portraits of Bob Dylan and Marilyn Monroe in order to note Avedon’s examination of celebrity and anonymity in American life, celebrating the commonalities between those who enjoy (and suffer from) intense fame in our culture and those whose portrait otherwise would never become circulated amongst the larger community. This begs the question: for Avedon (and his viewer), does anonymity simply become another form of celebrity? What I mean by this is that the extreme anonymity of these people exists as a big draw for someone to pay to see or own one of these prints, in the same way that Dylan or Monroe’s fame pulls people in.

In this way, Avedon's work is highly utilitarian (if one were to ignore the glaring fact that he sells his pieces for a high price). For instance, the contemplative looks on the slaughterhouse worker and Bob Dylan are almost identical. Also, Avedon chose to shoot the slaughterhouse worker in his place of employment and Bob Dylan in Central Park, where he spent his formative years as a street musician. In this way, Avedon is presenting two distinct moments of contemplation by an anonymous member of society and one of the greatest poets of the 20th century as features of the same human experience, in which our life and work is defined by the place we inhabit, and vice versa.

I see a similar connection between the two lower portraits as well. Aside from the fact that both subjects are blond, there is a definite compositional parallel between these two pieces. Both of these portraits are examinations of the intersection between individual identity and the identity one assumes upon entering the workplace. For Monroe, this means hours of hair and make-up, and for the Rattlesnake Skinner, this means hours of gruesome work which informs his hair and appearance. Now this second point might be taking the comparison too far, but I am going to write it anyway: the lower half of each frame presents a secondary subject which is a cornerstone of each person's respective work. Yes, I am talking about the breasts and the snake. Both of these are organic entities which have become objectified for the purposes of each person's job - Monroe's breasts (and the rest of her body, to be fair) and the snake both become commodified in each respective workplace in order to achieve an aesthetically pleasing goal: the celluloid image of the breasts on one hand and the object of the snakeskin on the other.

Therefore, Avedon's work as a whole exists as an interesting look into the human side of both celebrity and anonymity in American culture. The black and white film and candid introspective moments which he uses and captures serve as methods with which the artist can level the playing field, forcing the viewer to look at these portraits as an examination of character and humanity in relation to specific work and specific places. In this way, Avedon’s work encourages discussion of history and American life as it relates to people, their faces, and the places they work (as well as the work itself). Of course, one could simply walk by and become immersed in the image with no critical eye, but the possibility of meaning through the juxtaposition of these portraits still remains. Is Avedon a successful post-modern artist? No, because he makes no attempt to situate himself within the language of post-modernity, and makes no emphasis on the modes of production. However, this does not mean that his work has no potential for a critical reading other than a dismissive one.