Untitled, Time of Change (Damn the Defiant), Silver Print, 16" x 20", 1963

I've been a-gawkin' lately, and here's what's been gawked.

In his current solo show at Jackson Fine Art Bruce Davidson has made new prints of 2 distinct bodies of work: Time of Change comprises photos from the Civil Rights era of the early 60s, and East 100th Street is documentation of precisely that piece of Manhattan real estate in the mid- to late 60s. The trouble with shows of well-documented eras--particularly the Civil Rights era--is that every viewer will come to it with a narrative already in place. Every photo will be matched against a mental schema of known points of reference: the march, the boycott, the waterhose, the dogs. Moments of fresh insight will be limited, even in the hands of a living institution in documentary photography, which Davidson is.

Still, smart curating at Jackson gives us a show with perhaps more than its fair share of genuine revelations. By focusing on small, forgotten, accidental moments in a time fraught with grand incivilities, Davidson plays against the tendency to resolve an historical era down to a series of spectacular moments. Instead, we are treated to the fabric of life out of which these moments arose, sometimes with startling violence, sometimes with a sly subversion.

I particularly liked Martin Luther King Jr, Montgomery, Alabama, 1965. The latest battle over the MLK memorial statue in Washington, DC is that it looks too much like Lenin. So while the King heirs do battle with the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts, there goes the man again, almost entirely unrelated to the fracas that surrounds him. Show runs through July 5.

I lucked into Bobb Lovett's photography at Octane because I thought something was happening at Sandler Hudson when it was actually going down at Solomon Projects. (The letter S confuses me.) Ok, so you think you've seen these before--more Southern rot art, right? Well, yes and no. Lovett's mostly small, mounted, unframed digital prints turn out to be fairly spectacular. Printed on metallic photo paper, they are glassy and pristine, and have a kind of internal glow that transcends the subject matter without overshadowing it. I don't know if Lovett is a one-trick pony with the printing method, but from what I can find out about him, he's early in his career with plenty of time to develop more tricks along the way.


Burned

Speaking of Solomon Projects, I did finally make it over there for Janet Biggs's Tracking Up. The show consists of 6 new single-channel videos arranged before six svelte little Eero Saarinen stools that I'm sure I will never be able to afford. Ever. New York-based Biggs typically explores the construction of gender and power in her videos and installation work. These videos however seemed to be more interested in the idea of performance in various aspects, but all in all the work failed to deliver on its potential.

The most interesting were the synchronized swimmers shot underwater and then rotated 180 degrees such that they appeared upright, as demonstrated in Airs Above the Ground and Performance of Desire. It was an interesting conceit, and the work revealed beneath a facade of prettiness was telling. I also enjoyed the opening shots of Enemy of the Good, which costarred Santiago Calatrava's stunning and optimistic Valencia architecture.

Unfortunately, it more or less ended there. All the concerns about femininity and masculinity were put on display, but not excavated. Regimented synchronized swimmers were juxtaposed against regimented cadets running through drill routines. But didn't we already know those were kind of the same? The coups de grace were the original soundtracks accompanying the videos, which consisted too often of cloying instrumentals that instead of augmenting the visual element, flattened it into what felt like a PBS interstitial. Watch these perhaps, but leave the headphones off.

Bobb Lovett is a good friend of mine and will be happy to hear your positive response to his work.

Right on. Good to meet you the other night, btw.