In her highly anticipated book Discharge, Canadian-born, New York–based artist and photographer Petra Collins (born 1992) presents images of self-discovery and femininity that explore the emotional, complex intersection of life online and off. Responding to the ubiquity of social media, Collins offers images of unflinching honesty--girls on the brink of adulthood taking selfies, applying lip gloss, pleasuring themselves, or lounging in childhood bedrooms amid piles of stuffed animals--which explore the private and public aspects of growing up as a woman at a moment when female bodies are ubiquitously hyper-mediated by Photoshop and social media. “I'm used to being told by society that I must regulate my body to fit the norm," Collins writes in her introductory essay on censorship and social media. From there, the book deconstructs that norm through her intimate photographs of friends--photographs that, rather than counter the male gaze, document female subjects processing it. The young Collins uses film, lending her photographs, in spite of their inclusion of iPhones and laptops, a 70s aesthetic, a romantic nostalgia.
With the opening of the exhibition Frank Lloyd Wright: From Within Outward on May 15, 2009, the Guggenheim inaugurated a yearlong celebration of art, architecture, and innovation to mark the 50th Anniversary of its landmark building designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.
In June 1943, Frank Lloyd Wright received a letter from Hilla Rebay, the art advisor to Solomon R. Guggenheim, asking the architect to design a new building to house Guggenheim's four-year-old Museum of Non-Objective Painting. The project evolved into a complex struggle pitting the architect against his clients, city officials, the art world, and public opinion. Both Guggenheim and Wright would die before the building's 1959 completion. The resultant achievement, the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, testifies not only to Wright's architectural genius, but to the adventurous spirit that characterized its founders.
Wright made no secret of his disenchantment with Guggenheim's choice of New York for his museum: "I can think of several more desirable places in the world to build his great museum," Wright wrote in 1949 to Arthur Holden, "but we will have to try New York." To Wright, the city was overbuilt, overpopulated, and lacked architectural merit.
Still, he proceeded with his client's wishes, considering locations on 36th Street, 54th Street, and Park Avenue (all in Manhattan), as well as in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, before settling on the present site on Fifth Avenue between 88th and 89th Streets. Its proximity to Central Park was key; as close to nature as one gets in New York, the park afforded relief from the noise and congestion of the city.
For more than 30 years, Hiroshi Sugimoto has traveled the world photographing its seas, producing an extended meditation on the passage of time and the natural history of the earth reduced to its most basic, primordial substances: water and air. Always capturing the sea at a moment of absolute tranquility, Sugimoto has composed all the photographs identically, with the horizon line precisely bifurcating each image. The repetition of this strict format reveals the uniqueness of each meeting of sea and sky, with the horizon never appearing exactly the same way twice. The photographs are romantic yet absolutely rigorous, apparently universal but exceedingly specific. The second in a series of luxurious, beautifully produced volumes each focused on specific bodies of Sugimoto's work, Seascapes presents the complete series of more than 200 Seascapes for the first time in one publication. Some of the photographs included have never before been reproduced.
Taratine, is the first US monograph by acclaimed Japanese photographer Daisuke Yokota. Comprised of photographs and a moving essay written by Yokota, Taratine is his most personal work to date.
Taratine combines two bodies of new work-one from a road trip to Tohoku in 2007, and a second taken in Tokyo in 2014. Inspiration came by Yokota stumbling upon an ancient ginkgo tree in the Aomori prefecture. Called "Taratine", this tree has been worshipped by generations of women for its fertility-enhancing properties. Yokota was reminded both of the Tohoku region's traditional-and lingering-connection to the awe of natural spirits and of memories from his own childhood.
As Marc Feustel observes in the afterword, "Unlike its predecessors, Taratine is driven by a more ambiguous and slippery set of emotions and sensations. A need for maternal love evolves into lust and desire. As much a book about sounds and smells as one of images-Taratine heightens all the senses as it breathes fresh air into a grand Japanese tradition."