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Showing posts with label Deadbeat Club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deadbeat Club. Show all posts
Book Review Soft Eyes Photographs by Henry Wessel, Austin Leong & Adrian Martinez Reviewed by Jacques Talbot "Soft Eyes presents a selection of photographs by the late Henry Wessel, alongside those by California-based photographers Austin Leong and Adrian Martinez, in an immaculately designed and thoughtfully curated volume that synthesizes rather than juxtaposes the unique sensibilities of these remarkable photographers..."

Soft Eyes by Henry Wessel, Austin Leong & Adrian Martinez.
https://www.photoeye.com/bookstore/citation.cfm?catalog=ZK667
Soft Eyes
Henry Wessel, Austin Leong & Adrian Martinez
Deadbeat Club, Los Angeles, CA, 2024. 84 pp., 11½x11½".

Soft Eyes presents a selection of photographs by the late Henry Wessel, alongside those by California-based photographers Austin Leong and Adrian Martinez, in an immaculately designed and thoughtfully curated volume that synthesizes rather than juxtaposes the unique sensibilities of these remarkable photographers.

In 1969, at the age of twenty-seven, Wessel arrived in California from Rochester, New York. He settled in Point Richmond and taught at the San Francisco Art Institute for the next forty years. Leong (b. 1990) and Martinez (b. 1990) grew up in Anaheim and Los Angeles respectively, both relocating to San Francisco in the five-year window between 2003 and 2008. What unifies these three photographers is their affinity for capturing California’s crisp, stark light on the textured surfaces of their surroundings. This carries through the selection of photographs, which are sequenced without accompanying dates or attributions. The photographs retrace the neighborhoods Wessel once frequented, and to which Leong and Martinez now turn their lenses.

Throughout Soft Eyes, there is a noticeable contrast between the photographs that convey the expanse of California’s car-friendly terrain and those that capture interpersonal encounters. This mirrors how Wessel frequently took photographs from his car but on occasion would emerge from his vehicle to make further frames on foot. Like Wessel, Leong’s work is occasionally framed by the passenger-side door or windscreen of his car. At other times, individual subjects fill the composition. In an interesting triangulation of images, Wessel depicts a woman resting upon a blanket spread in disarray upon the sand. Later, the shadow of Leong’s bicycled figure encroaches on a man splayed on the sidewalk, apparently sunbathing. In a subsequent frame, Martinez focuses upon a child lying awkwardly, and somewhat ominously, at the foot of a staircase leading to the beach. In each instance, the ambiguity invites us to draw our own conclusions.


Interstitial space, where the built environment abuts abundant natural growth, is another theme throughout Soft Eyes. To this end, Martinez depicts foliage perforating a geodesic dome containing the remainder of a tree, suggesting a glacial transference of power. Elsewhere, in a photograph by Leong, a large plant appears to explode through the breeze-block wall of a parking lot; the shadows of its fronds radiate outward, as if from the percussive force of the impact. Several frames later, in an image of a suburban homestead by Wessel, a shrub that has had one quadrant abruptly excised is made whole again by its own shadow. These slower images perhaps best exemplify Wessel’s conviction that the meaning of a photograph is elucidated from a combination of its appearance, the experiential knowledge of the viewer, and the viewer’s imagination.


Time and again, humor serves as the inter-connective tissue between the work of Leong, Martinez, and Wessel. In the yard of a bungalow, a small cat sits discreetly against a white picket fence. Nearby, a hanging sign reads “Little Honker’. Elsewhere, the outline of a leg, whose figure vanishes into the walled entrance of a property, is mimicked by the trailing arm of a plant that projects outward from the same property, casting a wide arc from above the street as if to avoid detection. A few frames later, the larger of two dogs peers into the dark interior of a structure through missing slats at the base of one of its doors. Meanwhile, a smaller canine peers down on it, apparently undetected, from the apex of its roof. These photographs exemplify each photographer’s acute receptivity to narrative within the infinite and forever evolving permutations of their surroundings.


Soft Eyes
culminates in an insightful essay by curator Allie Haeusslein, which dives deeper into the actively receptive state of ‘soft eyes’, a phrase coined by Wessel. He spoke at length about the importance of making an image as soon as interest registers, without deliberation or further investigation. Multiple works by Leong and Martinez demonstrate their adherence to this approach, and this overarching connection serves as the progenitor of the connections that follow:
“You’re kind of like a free agent between your instinct, your anticipation, and your intelligence, and all of those things… keep continually moving back and forth in a fluid way while you’re photographing”.
Soft Eyes is Todd Hido’s choice for Favorite Photobook of 2024, appearing alongside three other titles from standout publisher Deadbeat Club. Soft Eyes, however, is unique for drawing together the work of three photographers within a volume that is undeniably greater than the sum of its parts. The images by Leong, Martinez, and Wessel are shaped in part by California’s sunlight, but more so by Wessel’s philosophy. For these reasons, Soft Eyes has also proven to be my favorite photobook of 2024.

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Jacques Talbot is a photographer and writer based in Kingston, Ontario. His writing can be found in Border Crossings, Sculpture magazine, and the American Review of Canadian Studies.
Book Review The Lizard By Gabriele Rossi Reviewed by Brian Arnold "The 2011 film starring Johnny Depp, Rango, tells the story of a domesticated chameleon, blissfully comfortable as a young boy’s pet in a well-kept terrarium..."

The Lizard. By Gabriele Rossi.
https://www.photoeye.com/bookstore/citation.cfm?catalog=ZK550
The Lizard
By Gabriele Rossi
Deadbeat Club, Los Angeles, California, 2024. 80 pp., 11½x16¼".

The 2011 film starring Johnny Depp, Rango, tells the story of a domesticated chameleon, blissfully comfortable as a young boy’s pet in a well-kept terrarium. Early in the film, his quiet life is upended when his family pulls roots and moves across the American West. Out on a poorly kept road in the desert, Rango’s terrarium is jostled and falls out of the car. Suddenly he is out in the wild of the Mojave Desert and must learn to fend for himself. He stumbles into a town of reptiles and other wild beasts called Dirt (a place somewhat like Deadwood), where eventually he’s appointed sheriff. Thrust from his comfortable life, he confronts many of the challenges of the American West — lawlessness, water, corporate expansion, and the harsh, grueling sun of the desert. Ultimately, Rango becomes the town’s hero; more than surviving his new life, he learns to blossom.

I don’t know why photographer Gabriele Rossi called his new book with Deadbeat Club The Lizard, but I like to think it was named after Rango. In promoting the book, Deadbeat describes it as “a strange and uncanny atlas of the familiar transformed into the unfamiliar through the vision of a stranger who's only looking for some sort of home,” not unlike the story of the chameleon lost in the outskirts of Nevada. Rossi is Italian but came to the States to pursue a residency in New York City. He felt overwhelmed by the scale and cacophony of New York, such a stark contrast from his small village along the coast of Italy, and eventually he sought refuge by fleeing to the American West. An avid student of photographic history, Rossi approached the region thinking about Robert Adams and Timothy O’Sullivan, and used the dramatic vistas and mythologies of the West to reflect on the nature of home, his vision tempered by his feeling as an outsider in the United States.


Everything about The Lizard is lovely. Measuring over 11x16 inches with the pictures printed one per spread, the book quickly seduces with large, rich duotone prints of familiar American landscapes. Rossi developed his pictures with a rigid formal and technical aptitude, beautifully articulated in the book as each page radiates light and clarity at the core of all his photographs. Perhaps most surprising here is his sense of humor. It’s not often I see landscape photography and grin, but I do so every time I open the book. I find this gives a refreshing view of the American West; Rossi does point out the successes and perils of Manifest Destiny, the political doctrine that dictated westward expansion, but he can see it as folly rather than tragedy. This is a subtle but important distinction, because it is easy to think that Rossi is repeating photographic histories of the American West. Artists like Emmet Gowin, Lewis Baltz, and Robert Adams thoroughly documented the tragedy, but Rossi accesses a sort of cleverness that I can only compare to Jason Fulford, perhaps best seen in the jagged white line he finds along the perfectly squared horizon, documenting a building that must host a business like the one Peter Gibbons experiences with Initech in the cult classic Office Space.


Deadbeat Club has been on my radar for some time — coffee and books are two of my favorite things in life — but this is the first of their books for me. I am interested in seeing more; The Lizard is clearly a book from a design team with great skills and perspectives on photographic narratives. With books from the likes of Vanessa Winship, Anne Rearick, and Toshio Shibata, Deadbeat is probing interesting and important photographic ideas about the connections between landscape and its manifestation in personal and cultural identity issues. Gabriele Rossi’s book fits perfectly into this vision by providing a familiar, engaging, and subtle approach to photographing the histories that help define the American West.

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Brian Arnold
is a photographer, writer, and translator based in Ithaca, NY. He has taught and exhibited his work around the world and published books, including A History of Photography in Indonesia, with Oxford University Press, Cornell University, Amsterdam University, and Afterhours Books. Brian is a two-time MacDowell Fellow and in 2014 received a grant from the Henry Luce Foundation/American Institute for Indonesian Studies.