on October 27, 2011
Paul Jasmin is now in his seventies, and he has had an interesting life, according to the autobiography which prefaces this book. He now teaches photography in Pasadena, and finds his subjects amongst the children of friends, and his students.
This book is interesting, because 30 of its pages are devoted to young women, 9 are miscellaneous architectural/still life, and perhaps 40 pages are devoted to rather good looking, chaste young men. And the subjects are placed in rather opulent surrounds. But I was disappointed, because a) I imagined this book was devoted to young men and b) things are a little too wistful and neutral for me.
At first I thought I would return the book for credit, but now I think I will keep it, because it is a quality production - printed on heavy paper with lavish endpapers taken from the wallpaper in one of the photos.
There is an index to the photos at the back of the book, but because the book is unpaginated this is all but useless. The book is published by the German publisher Steidl and they have done a fine job with it.
If you would like to know some more about Paul Jasmin, without committing to purchase this book, then I recommend you visit the Homotography website - it could be an education for you!
on February 28, 2011
I have been a longtime fan of Paul Jasmin, whose photography represents the quintessential Southern California dream of beauty, light and naturalism; but underlying it all is an elegiac, lonely, wistful, poignant sense of life as a temporary and exquisite moment which only a picture may capture.
To those who know Mr. Jasmin's style, you will find much that is familiar in this book, down to the posture of the models, and the rooms in which they are filmed..... Old Hollywood apartments, golden rooftops; mesmerizing models sprawled on beds, in lounge chairs, on patterned and furry rugs; nobody is older than 23. It is a place of dreams for those who are mostly lost in thought.
Interspersed with portraits, are various moody landscape photographs of a lost-in-thought Los Angeles: a hose floats in a trapezoidal swimming pool overlooking a valley; a Porsche ascends a shady driveway; a cat sits alone on a stone wall; the Chateau Marmont sign is nestled in palms. Nothing is forced, nothing is digital, yet it all captures what life feels like in the lonely, sprawling, formless incubator of sunshine and noir.