Customer Reviews

Sugimoto

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I was first introduced to Sugimoto about five years ago when I saw his Theatre series at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. His photos captured a kind of ghostly emptiness - white screens framed by the darkened outlines of seats. To capture the exposures he would leave the camera shutter open at a low aperture for an entire sitting of a film. I was really impressed at how he could transform two hours of motion into one eerily still exposure.

This new series of seascapes does not disappoint. At first, each of the prints seems tediously the same- the same horizon placed at the center of the frame, the same gray tones. Later, as you begin to explore each print and compare them, you realize the qualities of light vary tremendously from one to the next, as does the mist and the clouds and the shape of waves on the water. Once again, Sugimoto has captured a stillness that goes beyond ordinary experience.

Enjoy it.

This book is divided into four parts. The first, "Mathematical Forms: Surfaces" and the second "Mathematical Forms: Curves" consist of photographs of models that were created to illustrate trigonometric equations for mathematical study in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, like conic projections and spheres. The third part, "Mechanical Forms" shows models from the 19th century that demonstrated mechanical movements like cams and gears. The fourth part consists of photographs taken of an installation of the pictures from the first three parts as well as Sugimoto's reproduction of Marcel Duchamp's "Large Glass, or The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even". This last part is so different from the first three that it must be considered on its own.

The first three parts show the models, in black and white prints, all apparently illuminated by a single light from the left, and because of this light, modeled in a way similar to the first drawings of a shadowed apple, made in a drawing class to teach the student how to create three dimensions on a two dimensional surface. The backgrounds to the models are completely in black. Sugimoto has said that although these models were created without artistic intention, they illustrate that "Art is possible without artistic intention and can be better without it."

Certainly the models are quite beautiful in their own right, but I suspect that if we saw, for example, one of these sets of gears, encrusted with grease in a machine, we might pass by it without a second glance or thought. Clearly, as far as these photographs go, it is the photographer's intention to portray the beauty of these objects, and to impose form on the content, that makes them beautiful and that makes the photographs art.

Each of the pictures is accompanied by text which describes what formula is portrayed (including the actual equations) or how the mechanical device works, but in most cases I suspect only mathematicians and engineers will understand this text. In any event, the pictures stand out on their own. There are also essays talking about the works, and to the extent they describe how the models came into being they are quite interesting. Once the essays get into aesthetics, and wander into semiotics, they became less useful to me.

I find the fourth part of the book as enigmatic as the original Duchamp. The pictures of the installation, in color, show it to have been a striking and beautiful setting. Sugimoto's reproduction of "The Large Glass" combines negatives and prints of the original work and sandwiches them between two pieces of glass, like the original. Unlike the original, where the figures were clearly made of bits of metal, the figures in the reproduction are clearly in black and white, and the object itself is smaller than the original. The inclusion of this work, so completely different from the first three parts, seems likely to be making a statement about the first three parts, but I was completely unable to puzzle out what the statement is.

Whether Sugimoto has succeeded in showing that "Art is possible without artistic intention and can be better without it." is not clear, but it is clear that these photographs are art.

standing regally before sugimoto's lens, these object appear to almost inhale and breathe.

i've seen these kinematic and mathematical objects in person, but - in this book they appear to rise up and almost float away.

it's like a japanese delicacy and will leave you wanting more.

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