KELLY WRITERS HOUSE

 

 

ARTIST STATEMENTS

 
Rachel Mackow

In 1995, a friend and I spent a week in and around Miami. There was something about that city: lots empty except for a façade propped up by two by fours, shopping carts burning in parking lots and immense, abandoned hotels shedding their paint. There was something wild and alive that existed independently of the people who lived there.

Since then, I have photographed the landscape—full of empty parking lots, roadways, garages, storefronts, buildings . . . the marks and tracks of people.

Recently, I travelled to Detroit. Like many cities in the US, Detroit is an artifact, a ruin, a modern Acropolis. Deco skyscrapers reach for twentieth century Gods. Each is empty but the upper floors move with cast light. Street level is hours darker than the rest of the world. Reflections in the windows multiply the few nomads passing by.

Walking for hours, my companion and I met no one in downtown Detroit. Crossing paths with one man, we asked where everyone was. He laughed, spread his arms and said, "WELCOME TO DETROIT."

Metropolis is a depiction of urban ruin. These photographs are primarily of Philadelphia's industrial sector which I passed through as an artist and employee of an ironing board factory.

 

© Rachel Mackow


Benjamin Tiven

 

These photographs are about the navigation of certain public spaces and the structures which define them within the landscape. The encounter with space itself is at the root of these photographs; they are examinations of depth and distance, and of the clarity and obscurity that come with those distances. They are all made at places where land dissolves itself into water—either cities into rivers or oceans into continents. I want each photograph to reduce all this vastness and silence into one visually analytical moment—one where the light, structure, and composition within the photograph can convey, or at least imply, the real sense of space.

To do that, one has to imagine for each picture a visual structure that will work. Sometimes this is spontaneous, other times an image has been imagined and the decision of what or where to photograph is in the interest of instantiating that vision. In both cases, the photograph is the product of mapping the imagination onto the real. The space in the mind and the space of the world reflect and inform each other; these photographs try to explore that relationship.

 

© Benjamin Tiven