Movie Theatre,Canton Palace, Ohio, 1980. Silver Gelatin Print
Throughout the mid to late 1970s and upwards, Hiroshi Sugimoto packed up a folding 4×5 camera & tripod, surreptitiously entered matinees (and, one can only presume, evening film events) and documented the interior of movie theatres across the United States – invoking a classic procedure borrowed from Conceptual Art. He would open the shutter just before the ‘first light’ hit the screen and close it after the credits finished rolling and before the house lights came on. Using this method he was able to invert the subject/object relationship of the movie theatre and use the film itself to illuminate the proscenium and interior. However – it’s MORE than that, isn’t it? There is also a social and political critique implicit to the gesture. The rendering of a ‘blank’ movie screen carries with it a whole series of alternate implications that are highly relevant to a culture of consumption. The unavoidable allusions of mass social programming and lack of content are implicit in the act. This content, largely unaddressed crtiically, is what lends the images their incredible power – along wtih the natural fascination of being made privy to the photography’s divine birthright – allowing us to see the normall invisible – to experience a finite collapse of time. -JWD
‘My Mother Posing for Me’, 1984; Larry Sultan’s parents were the subject of his ‘Pictures from Home’ series, first published in 1992. Sultan was moved to begin the project after his father, Irving, was forced into early retirement from his career with the Schick Safety Razor Company
Larry Sultan: The king of colour photography
Uncanny and tender, Larry Sultan’s work captures suburban West Coast America – from the green lawns of Palm Springs to San Fernando Valley’s porn-film industry
By Michael Collins
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Photography tends to deliver an exaggerated account, revealing the familiar with an unfamiliar and unsettling degree of detail – like the experience of listening to a recording of your own voice. When the late American photographer Larry Sultan made a series of pictures of his parents in their home, he was presented not only with the distortions made through the camera lens, but by his lens onto their life, too.