April 2)
Reputations Made Here
If you've ever wondered why San Francisco has such a reputation for
photography, check out the current show at SF Camerawork for a glimpse
of fine work by emerging photographers in our midst. Jessamyn Lovell's
portraits of rural America also happen to be portraits of her family, which
has known some hard times since her mother began using a wheelchair.
But Lovell's photos are not your classic Dorothea Lange shots of a farm
family in dire straits. From the defiant look in her mother's eye as she
hoists a shotgun, you can see that they're managing, thank you very
much. Her adopted son and four daughters sport nose piercings and an
array of hippie, preppy, Goth and skater looks, and do not smile as they
pose in a yard with a broken fence and stare down the camera -- not exactly
Norman Rockwell's America, but one much more recognizable as the place
we call home. On the opposite side of the tracks, Mark Luthringer's
"Ridgemont" is a series of digital shots of grand entry signs to real estate
developments whose bastardized Tuscan-Alpine-adobe architecture comes
with names to match, such as Crystyl Ranch and Miraggio. Here,
Luthringer cleverly reveals the irony that the developers somehow missed:
"The Preserve" is a hill featuring a sprawling model home and nary a tree
in sight, and "Whitegate" says it all when it comes to a gated community of
Spanish colonial haciendas. As Andrew Moisey points out in his artist's
statement, all but two of the 43 presidents of the United States were frat
boys -- so to get a good look at the future leaders of the free world, one need
only look at Moisey's revealing shots of Pledge Week. "Three Pledges" shows
a trio in sneakers and ties perched on a sagging couch awaiting
instructions, with self-consciously casual poses and fresh-scrubbed faces
that are eager, wary and feckless -- they're just kids, really, but already
they're carrying themselves like presidential candidates. But take in the
setting, and it's hard not to feel sorry for these pledglings: all that effort just
to hang out in a dim living room with dingy striped wallpaper, sticky
linoleum floors and a scuffed-up door that's been slammed like pledges
during rush. -- Alison Bing, special to SF Gate
There were 17 accomplished photographers in this show, so it's pretty
flattering that she chose to mention me. And write about me so well.
Eager, wary, and feckless. How dead on is that. If you can bear to
remember the last election, consider about how perfectly that describes
the three stages of both candidacies.
Fellowship of the Thing
In trying to figure out what sets fraternity members apart from other
beer-slurping, skirt-chasing, partymongering college men,
photographer Andrew Moisey hit upon the idea that a surplus of
brotherhood is "responsible for everything bad and good that happens
inside the fraternity house." The Berkeley grad was allowed a certain
amount of free access to Greek life because of his younger brother's
pledge status, and the result is his debut exhibition, Evidence of
Brotherhood, a show of silver gelatin prints currently on display at
Cal's ASUC Auxiliary Art Studio. Moisey is now a first-year doctoral
student in film studies; his photos owe much to movies, in that they
capture action in crisp tones. But don't expect Animal House -- the
pictures show ceremonial machismo, quiet bonding, and romantic
canoodling (hetero, of course) in a way that highlights their subjects'
occasional foolishness, but most often, their vulnerability. Info:
510-642-6161. -- Stefanie Kalem, East Bay Express
about my work in print without interviewing me. Personally, I don't think my
work owes shit to the movies, and least of all for having captured action in crisp
tones. Would you ever describe a movie this way to someone? Whatever.
She's right about highlighting their foolishness and vulnerability, but then
again, all documentary work highlights vulnerability. It's a trick we do that
makes people think we're digging real deap. It's cliche both to do this in and say
this about documentary work. But I am proud to have highlighted their
foolishness. No one ever does this fairly. I do it without making fun of anyone.
Sent: Friday, April 9, 2004 6:06am
To: andrewmoisey@hotmail.com
Subject: About the 2004 Fellow
Dear Andrew,
Your photography is gay. The american upper class has its
newest, gayest photographer. As it's stated on the Film Studies
webpage, "(Your) work won the endorsement of the fraternity's
online alumni," and then with shock and awe the Dorothy Lange
Fellowship??!! She built her career documenting people exploited
by born-elite dumbfucks at the top of our class heirarchy. Now
you go out and shoot them (with a camera) and try to make a
sensitive portrait. I like the sense of poverty in the frat photos.
You document all the real conditions, except the fat bank accounts,
big cars, and big screen football games. It makes me want to see
every priveleged Mall-jock outdrink himself until his brain
explodes. And, um, could you photograph that? Now you go
around photographing laundrymats and blacks to add weight and
depth to your oeuvre. Click, click-airhead--no one wants your
perspective. You got a grant because you depicted nothing too
unsettling, only making rich moms and dads think deep about
their sons living hard in a magazine and getting a Real World
education. Drop the pompous attitude. You do not deserve an
award. They are mediocre photographs at best no matter the
subject matter. You're in store for a long academic hazing Mr. PhD
candidate. No wonder higher education sux. Hollywood is waiting
for your ass.
Agapius
but failed to steal away Christine. As you can see, he's still bitter about it
two years later. How flattering it is to think he's been following my exploits
for so long. But it makes sense if you consider that he's a photographer too.