HOPE
St. Paul, MN. 1974
A Japanese kite, anchored to a wall, eyes the cold, clear sky above Minnesota. Perhaps the paper carp longs to join a school of other Koi in the more favorable spring winds above Japan on Kodomo-no-hi, a children’s festival of hope.
A Japanese kite, anchored to a wall, eyes the cold, clear sky above Minnesota. Perhaps the paper carp longs to join a school of other Koi in the more favorable spring winds above Japan on Kodomo-no-hi, a children’s festival of hope.
LEFT TURNS THE SHARK
Minneapolis. MN. 1975
The left-turn arrow is like a shark in an asphalt sea, abruptly turning towards prey.
The left-turn arrow is like a shark in an asphalt sea, abruptly turning towards prey.
NO EXIT I
Crocus Hill, St. Paul, MN. 1974
The title says it all. No Exit I and the following, No Exit II. work both as single images and as a diptych. These two images of interiors with doorways and mirrors mark a point of transition.
The title says it all. No Exit I and the following, No Exit II. work both as single images and as a diptych. These two images of interiors with doorways and mirrors mark a point of transition.
NO EXIT II
Crocus Hill, St. Paul, MN. 1974
This image, along with No Exit I, was taken at a renovated condominium, briefly lived in by a lovely, beautiful, effervescent, twice-divorced heiress. So, there was an exit after all.
This image, along with No Exit I, was taken at a renovated condominium, briefly lived in by a lovely, beautiful, effervescent, twice-divorced heiress. So, there was an exit after all.
DAMMING THE WIND
St. Paul, MN. 1974
A teaming sky behind a weathered, stolid wall is reminiscent of a scene of execution. In the struggle between gusts of wind and concrete, air eventually wins.
A teaming sky behind a weathered, stolid wall is reminiscent of a scene of execution. In the struggle between gusts of wind and concrete, air eventually wins.
MUTUAL SERVICE
St. Paul. 1973
In the 1950s, Prudential Insurance did architecture a great service by introducing a building style that was then copied by numerous financial institutions throughout North America. Like the times in which they were built, their style was big and bold, with a geometric sense inherited from Europe’s International Style. When this picture was taken, the style was dated. Yet, these buildings, despite a bulkiness bordering on brutalism, have a proportionality and elegance that just might be timeless.
In the 1950s, Prudential Insurance did architecture a great service by introducing a building style that was then copied by numerous financial institutions throughout North America. Like the times in which they were built, their style was big and bold, with a geometric sense inherited from Europe’s International Style. When this picture was taken, the style was dated. Yet, these buildings, despite a bulkiness bordering on brutalism, have a proportionality and elegance that just might be timeless.
SUNDAY MORNING
Key West, FL. 1976
Back in the 1970s, Sunday mornings in Key West were empty and silent. By 8:00 AM, Saturday night's hunger and furies had dissipated in dawn's glow. The choices made on a feverish night before, left door or right, were all forgotten in the lassitude of a bright, warm Lord’s Day.
Back in the 1970s, Sunday mornings in Key West were empty and silent. By 8:00 AM, Saturday night's hunger and furies had dissipated in dawn's glow. The choices made on a feverish night before, left door or right, were all forgotten in the lassitude of a bright, warm Lord’s Day.
AFTER G.B. PIRANESI
St. Paul, MN. 1974
Giovanni Piranesi is famed for his etchings of prison interiors. His images are taciturn depictions of horror and futility spurred by human cruelty. They are both expressionistic and surreal. And he achieved this without portraying broken bodies or writhing flesh, but with empty spaces. Whereas Piranesi gave large, cavernous enclosures a claustrophobic character, my image is not that ambitious. Here, the image’s focus is on a small, blunt area of minimal components.
Giovanni Piranesi is famed for his etchings of prison interiors. His images are taciturn depictions of horror and futility spurred by human cruelty. They are both expressionistic and surreal. And he achieved this without portraying broken bodies or writhing flesh, but with empty spaces. Whereas Piranesi gave large, cavernous enclosures a claustrophobic character, my image is not that ambitious. Here, the image’s focus is on a small, blunt area of minimal components.
About the Hungry Winter Series
Van Gogh wrote that whenever he saw unutterable loneliness, the end of things, God came to mind. I do not share his religiosity but agree that sights of emptiness and abandonment can evoke if not God, at least awe.
These images were taken in the 1970s. They are witnesses to change, and the destruction of memory, the old being swept away by the promise of a bright future. My concern was with finding aesthetic insight in austere scenes of dereliction. My motive was to seek that sense of purpose that art gives life. And within these images, I hope some spirituality lingers.
These pictures were taken while I was still in my twenties. When young, we are less daunted by the drama of disruption, change, and eventual annihilation. Many young people lunge into life, unbothered by the seemingly ceaseless chain of endings and beginnings ahead. The young are strong. They are better able to face down dereliction and annihilation rather than surrender to them. And so, the Hungry Winter Series is a testament of youth.
