Vol. 30 No. 3 Summer 2007
Emotion—in Black & White and Color
at the Terrain Gallery
Review by Len Bernstein
As a person who, for over 30 years, has been studying the history and technique of photography, it is a pleasure to tell of a ground-breaking exhibition, Emotion—in Black & White and Color, at the Terrain Gallery in New York City.
The basis of the gallery is Aesthetic Realism, the education founded by poet and critic Eli Siegel. The motto of the Terrain since it opened in 1955 is his statement, “In reality opposites are one; art shows this.” The exhibition statement describes the approach of the Terrain to photography, which I’ve seen is comprehensively and deeply fair to the medium and the persons working in it:
| Whenever a work of art in any medium is successful, the opposites in reality have been made one. As this exhibition shows, in photography, the dramatic interplay of light and dark, sharpness and softness, a specific object and wide meaning, the immediate moment and permanent structure, are central to the success, the beauty, of the work. |
The photographs in this exhibition, in their diversity, are representative of America—its land and people. Some of the beautiful images you will see are John Reddy’s quietly grand sunset over Montana hills...
Amy Dienes’ photograph of a New Orleans home devastated by Katrina, its front wall ripped off to reveal a closet with clothing still hanging untouched and orderly; a portrait by Dan McClung that captures the sad thoughtfulness and precision of a Native American weaver in Arizona...
and the graceful structure of a Coney Island roller coaster ride enveloped in mist by Allan Michael.
Every photographer in this exhibition was invited to comment “on the importance of the opposites in how they see and what they see.” The results here are extraordinary: 15 photographers, of which I am proud to be one, describe in individual statements alongside their work what they were affected by, what they were hoping to achieve when they took the picture and, in some instances, what they learned about themselves.
Dale Laurin, for example, writes:
| When I used to
photograph, I saw people not as potential subjects
but as inescapable obstructions. Like many architects, I'd wait
impatiently until all passersby were clear of the viewfinder before
ever closing the shutter on a carefully composed shot of a building
that caught my eye. Eli Siegel asked me once in an Aesthetic Realism
lesson if I had preferred buildings to people. The answer was yes.
Thankfully this changed! One result is "On the
Way To."
 |
Then there is Harvey Spears writing of a domestic farm animal with tenderness and dignity:
| When I first came
upon my subject he (or she) was walking around
his pen like any other hog. However as he entered his structure I was
affected as this mostly round and smooth form entered this very angular
and rough structure. I felt something wonderful was going to happen. It
did. As he turned around and found his position, he looked at me and then closed his eyes—mostly. I was affected to see his smooth round form was not only that. You could practically count the hairs on his body and face, which were delicate and also rough. There were also the deep creases in his face and different directions of the hairs on his snout that added to the roughness of this being. This was in relation to the rough texture of the structure he was in, with its nails, dirt, wood-grain and irregular geometry. Their colors also seemed to bring them closer as well with the silver and also warm grey in both. I was affected by the geometry that was here—there were graceful curves, and definite angles, the square that framed his body, the triangles of his ears which were diagonally anchored to a nail that one of his ears almost touched. The more I looked at him the more I saw he was in a beautiful relation, through form, to his surroundings, and the more I had deep warm feelings for this being. I came to really love him. |
In my own statement I write, in part, of how studying the opposites made for a better relation of spontaneity and organization. The shots I made of objects had more life, even a touch of humor now and then. And most importantly to me, I became aware of subtleties of emotion in people I hadn’t wanted to see before. It had shades of light and dark—and these gradations began showing up in the expressions and gestures I captured, as well as in the greater tonal range of my prints.
In a conversation with Dorothy Koppelman, the founding director of the Terrain Gallery, she said:
| One of the great values of photography is the implicit criticism it can have of the way we can skim along a street and ignore, or have contempt for the happenings, the people we pass, and the multitude of objects round us. We can discover newly the wonder in the everyday, learn to respect what we might have scorned. This whole exhibition celebrates the indissoluble relation of abstract form and the variousness of nature and humanity, and we can love both more. |
This show is a means of having, as Eli Siegel described in Afternoon Regard for Photography, “pleasure we can respect ourselves for having….To have emotions worthy of the world and of yourself is to be a success in life. There is no other success.”
The Terrain Gallery is located at 141 Greene Street, and is open Wednesday through Friday from 12-5 pm, Saturday from 12-4 pm, and by appointment. Arrangements can also be made for camera clubs and other groups to visit the gallery to view the exhibition and hear photographers discuss their work. You can learn more by calling 212-777-4490 or visiting the website of the Terrain Gallery http://www.terraingallery.org.