Having studied with Gary Winogrand and been critically well-regarded (by Susan Sontag, among others), photographer Mitch Epstein early eschewed the artsy conceit of black-and-white photography to experiment with and perfect his use of color. This concentration is first in evidence in his early works and books created from his travels in Vietnam and India. His latest tome, American Power (Steidl), completes the personal trilogy he began in the mid-’90s with The City and then followed in 1999 with the second volume, Family Business. From 2003 through 2008, spurred by the P.A.T.R.I.O.T. Act and Hurricane Katrina, Epstein traveled around the United States to sites producing all types of energy—fossil fuel, nuclear, hydroelectric, wind, and solar. The purpose of this “energy tourism” was to exhibit some nexus between electrical and political power. The 64 color plates in this monograph are his eloquent portrayal of 21st-century America: a culture at a critical crossroads.What is interesting, beyond the haunting, complicated beauty and precision of these images, is Mr. Epstein’s ability to merge what have long been considered opposing terms: photo-conceptualism and so-called documentary photography. He utilizes the supersize scale and saturated color of conceptualism… [These] images [also have] a look that is at once real and unreal—or, as people who witness a catastrophe say, “surreal.”By now it should go without saying that this Steidl photo book is well published and includes an essay by Epstein, who ponders the role of the artist in a crucial time. And it should be noted that while the photos are well reproduced, the originals measure 70x92—quite an eyeful. —Robert Birnbaum
The Scott Dadich-designed Periodical Photographs (Aperture) by award-winning editorial photographer Dan Winters collects and features 90 full-color images (some of which have appeared in New York, Esquire, Rolling Stone, and the New York Times Magazine), including such diverse subjects as Gwyneth Paltrow, Denzel Washington, Leonardo DiCaprio, Bono, Eminem, Willie Nelson, Joyce Carol Oates, Heath Ledger, the Dalai Lama, Fred Rogers (and separately, his trademark red cardigan), Barack Obama, Tom Waits, an American eagle, and some startling miscellaneous images.…he seems like a small town guy with a multitude of interests. If you look at the photo of his desktop [which faces the text of this essay], a still life that he changes and curates regularly, you get a sense of his fascination with the last 60 years of America. The photographs in this book have the same historical resonance: They are true evocations of people and things that define their time. The power of these photos is their ability to trigger emotion, identification, and finally a sort of collective memory.—Robert Birnbaum
Photography has changed dramatically in the past 20 years—beyond the mutations caused by digital technology. In the ’80s, advertising led by fashion and lifestyle products began to look for a more editorial feel and impact, and so portraiture broke out of a formalist straightjacket. This was also true of fashion photography, and to complement this transformation there were all kinds of hip and exciting magazines that showcased emerging photographic talent: Interview (when Marc Balet was the art director), Big, L.A. Style—hell, I even published such a magazine in Boston (Stuff). Brigitte Lacombe’s career roughly parallels that boom. Though she did both commercial and fashion editorial work, it was through her chance encounter with Dustin Hoffman and Donald Sutherland at the 1975 Cannes Film Festival that led to career-long devotion to her first love: portraiture (seen here and here).
Photographer Philippe Halsman snapped some of the planet’s most famous facesAlbert Einstein, Marilyn Monroe, Frank Sinatra, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, Bob Hope, and countless othersand his portraits adorned more than 100 Life covers, when the magazine was a weekly publication and a real media force. Drawing on his experiences shooting a gaggle of NBC comediansincluding Milton Berle, Ed Wynn, Sid Caesar, Groucho Marx, Bob Hope, and Red SkeltonHalsman famously began asking some of his serious subjects (the Ford Family, Richard Nixon) to jump during their photo sessions. For according to Halsman: When you ask a person to jump, his attention is mostly directed toward the act of jumping and the mask falls so that the real person appears.
There is an open question on what character flaw or personality disorder causes me to lord over people who don’t know anything about Nicaragua or at least where it is located. No doubt it will be given ample consideration in my memoir (current working title: Just Talking: How to Do Things With Words). To be fair, I had only the faintest idea myself until sometime in the late ‘80s, when I read a William Greider piece in Rolling Stone set in Managua, in which photojournalist Susan Meiselas informed him there were only two working elevators in the whole country. (By the way, Chester Bowles, a Kennedy-era diplomat reportedly quipped that Managua, Nicaragua, looked/sounded like a typographical error.)
The ubiquity of digital cameras and the avalanche of images whose lives are wholly lived on hard drives, as well as other aspects of 21st-century visual aesthetics, make black-and-white photography seem like some arcane ritual practiced in far-off time by god-artists named Walker Evans, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Dorothea Lange, Diane Arbus, Robert Frank, and André Kertész. In his day, Kertész was a key participant in making the then-new highly portable 35mm rangefinders an indispensable instrument in the liberation of photography from fixed, large-format pachyderms. In fact, Cartier-Bresson once said of himself and fellow photographers Robert Capa and Brassaï: Whatever we have done, Kertész did first.