This is a wonderful light study, Lisa. It’s not only that but, this is an interesting image that tells a story that I want to know more about. What happens in the kitchen? Who are the people that use that kitchen? I find some of the most intriguing photographs are of a scene that tells so much but still leaves me asking questions, and I keep thinking about it even when it’s not in front of me.
Last night I was invited to the Hirshhorn for a special preview of "Yayoi Kusama: Infinity Mirrors." Kusama's work is way more than the sum of its parts. I mean, I was standing there thinking, "I'm basically inside a mirrored plywood box with some lights WHY AM I FEELING SO MANY FEELINGS?" 👉 Tap the link in my bio to see wayyyy more photos on my blog! 👈 #infinitekusama #athirshhorn #acreativedc
It’s here. You might have heard about the Hirshhorn’s new blockbuster exhibit, and if you haven’t you’re about to see it everywhere. Yayoi Kusama: Infinity Mirrors is a special and delightful treat for Washington. Kusama‘s Infinity Mirror Rooms have been installed globally but the Hirshhorn is hosting six different rooms for an exciting retrospective. James Jackson is one of the lucky first few to see the exhibit. You will need to register for free timed passes to enter. Set your alarm for Monday, February 27th—the next release for passes. They will sell out!
I’ve noticed that certain photographer see and make work that feels cinematic in tone and content. Kaitlin Jencso, is one of those art makers. I’m curious as to what makes an image seem like it’s a still out of a movie. What characteristics do these pictures possess that others don’t? Here, is it the dark, cold tones and her father’s mid-gesture expression? Or is it the understated details in the frame—the subtle glimpse of the dirt road, or the yellow leash around his shoulder while the scene is absent of dogs or other animals? It’s ultimately the photographer’s eye that creates the narrative by how she frames the milieu in front of her.
John Morris‘ image places us in a quiet, nostalgic scene. The imagery is much different from what I see and hear out the window next to me—the wind whistling under the uneven sills and tree branches struggling before a gust breaks them. John’s photo is one that many of us can relate to and while I find myself distracted with my present, this landscape is a reminder of wistful memories.
When I look at people in any body of water I instantly want to be with them. However, this eerie moment causes intrigue that pulls me in but leaves me haunted in the same breath. The dark shadows and the water ripples blur any clarity making it difficult to discern the context of the image. It doesn’t matter if the human is in serenity or anguish, the image’s obscurity is part of what makes it beautiful.