Photography is a broad medium. Whether used to create individual still images or strung together in series to create movement, photographs are able to both document reality and convey emotion under the headings of journalism and of art. Demonstrating this complexity of expression was part of the goal of Strangers, the first Triennial of Photography and Video, held at the International Center of Photography in New York City from September 13 to November 30.
The title Strangers is meant to reflect the revival of “street photography,” whereby artists leave the studio and engage with strangers to incorporate them into their images. Strangers is also meant to refer to the global union of the participants in this show. The curators brought together 100 works by 40 artists from 20 countries, including many not previously exhibited in the United States. This effort was announced by the organizers' declared intention to “bring our audience an illuminating vision of where visual culture is headed, and to inspire debate and discussion about where it might go next.”
In recent work by the highly influential American photographer Philip-Lorca Dicorcia, strangers are used to create what might appear to be a staged performance. His photographs are set in one location on a street in Havana, and are part of a larger body of work that helped redefine street photography. By using lighting arrangements that one might expect to see on a movie set or in the theatre, he is able to create the mood of a movie still. He waits and watches as people pass by and interact in natural ways, and then captures a decisive moment that is highly narrative. These moments blur the distinction between the casual and the contrived. The viewer is unsure whether these images are real moments or elaborate constructions by technicians and actors.
Dutch artist Julika Rudelius creates a similar feeling in his video Train. Rudelius recreates a voyeuristic moment by shooting his video though a crack in the seat-cushions on a train. Through the two bands of upholstery we see the moving mouths and hands of teenage boys as they share stories of their sexual experiences, often in vulgar language. This is an undeniably familiar moment: we have all watched strangers interact, eavesdropping on their stories, interpreting their subtle body language, and enjoying their actions and reactions. This turns the stranger into a spectacle — a point that English artist Julie Henry also makes in her video Going Down. Henry reverses the roles of spectator and spectacle by filming the fans of a soccer game rather than the game itself. She films the spectators of both the winning and the losing teams, and projects both videos onto the two adjacent walls of a corner. One wall screams with cheers and elation, while the other simultaneously declares visible heartbreak.
Photography was originally used solely as an art of identity, and transported personal images between people who might never meet. Dutch photographer Rineke Dijkstra's beautiful large-scale colour photographs draw on this tradition. From 1994 to 2003, she photographed a young Bosnian refugee met in a refugee camp in the Netherlands. However, this series of six portraits does more than simply document physical appearance. Together, they also document the assimilation of an identity into a new culture. In the first picture, taken of a girl at age six, we see the subject wearing the clothes of her homeland. With each subsequent picture she begins to incorporate the clothes, make-up and mannerisms of her adopted land. This represents a process of shaping and erasing identity. A similar idea is found in the photos of American John Schabel. These images were taken at night around tourist attractions in New York City. Schabel focuses his camera onto amateur photographers as they prepare to take a picture of their posing friends. By taking his picture at the exact moment that their flashes go off, he creates a white explosion in the middle of his images, erasing the very person he was photographing. Schabel's photos obliterate identity at the very moment that another photographer was attempting to capture it.
Chinese photographer Chien-Chi Chang documents the intimate interactions between strangers in a temple in Taiwan that also serves as an asylum. Those who run the asylum are opposed to the use of medications as treatment; instead, they use six feet of metal chain to bind pairs of residents together. They believe that this action will enable the more stable patient to bring the other to a higher level of sanity.
As in any other medium, these artists demonstrate the ability of the creative mind to expand photography and video in new directions, and to deal with developing social issues. With the constantly evolving sentiments regarding unification, alienation and globalization, these works demonstrate common themes from across the globe and reinforce the idea that even strangers can always find common ground.
Jonah Samson Family Medicine Resident St. Michael's Hospital Toronto, Ont.
Figure. Rineke Dijkstra. Almerisa, Alsymucetner Leiden, The Netherlands, March 14, 1994. Part of the ongoing series, Almerisa. Chromogenic print (12 cm х 100 cm). Photo by: © Rineke Dijkstar. Courtesy of Ellen Kern Fine Arts, New York
Figure. Chien-Chi Chang. From The Chain, 1998. Gelatin silver print, 152.4 cm х101.6 cm. Photo by: © Chien-Chi Chang / Magnum. Courtesy Julie Saul Gallery, New York