City Diary comes in a grey cardboard envelope, the
distinctive Anders Petersen scrawl giving us title and publisher. Inside are
three large paperback volumes, each 9-1/4x12-1/4, the same basic design and
format as the now sold out
Dear Diary, published as a small limited run
exhibition catalogue for the
City Diary show. The
City Diary book from Steidl
and Gun Gallery pulls in more of the images from this 100 image exhibit which
presented over 5 years of photographs from Petersen's travels. Many of the images in this book are
familiar, having been included in some of Petersen's earlier publications, but
the sequencing is notable. Various locations are gathered into each book, and
without a firm sense of place the images are connected intuitively with Petersen
as the unifying element. The photographs lead us on what feels like an
exploration of Petersen's own photographic past, scattered and reassembled in
these three books. These are the first in an on-going series.
The personal nature of Petersen's work is what strikes me
the most in these volumes. The subject matter of the images is well-established
-- high contrast portraits and street scenes, intimate and visceral, at times
confrontational, but always vital.
They are images that have been called "raw" and
"gritty" many times, which they certainly are, but while those
elements alone might draw some attention to a photographer's work (even though
these features are increasingly common in contemporary photographic practice),
there is something else in Petersen's photographs that makes them remarkable. These
books seem to be designed to pull out the subtler aspect, the quality that
makes each image a reflection of the photographer.
As the title implies, the 'diary' element is big here. The
strange and beautiful juxtaposition of images seem to belie personal reactions
and private jokes of the photographer with a sadness creeping in along the
edges. This intimacy keeps the most revealing images from feeling exploitive.
His subjects look into the camera as if they are watching the man behind it,
making him a subject of the photograph as well. Petersen is not merely a
tourist in these worlds; he connects with those he photographs because he can't
be any other way. With openness and
urgency he gets at something basic, something very human.
One last note: these books stink. It's the visceral, almost
overwhelming perfume of the thick black ink that makes the reproductions in
the books look so fantastic. The
scent is heady, and weirdly lends and extra physicality to the images, a dense
acridity. The smell will fade, but viewing the books right out of the wrapper
is quite an all-encompassing experience. -- Sarah Bradley
