Easy on the eyes

Beach-bound Brits, American landscapes,
hyper-real ’50s and stirring traveller
portraits come into focus in a selection
of new photography books

by SACHA JACKSON

There’s nothing like a great novel but sometimes it’s nice to give your brain a rest. A new batch of photography books, by both well- and lesser-known artists, have recently hit stores, giving you a good reason to put down the Pynchon and pick up the Parr.

Even if you don’t consider yourself artistically literate, chances are you’re familiar with the work of Martin Parr—you probably just don’t know it. Google image his name and you’ll likely recognize one of his works—a dog in rainbow shades and matching hat, infamous coffee table book Boring Postcards—but it wasn’t always this way.

Starting out as a black and white photographer, Parr’s first two books perfectly illustrated the mood and feel of dreary English life. It wasn’t until he switched to colour photography in 1986 with a collection of beach photos—a reccurring theme in his work—that he started to get publicly noticed.

His latest release, Martin Parr (Phaidon, hc, 128 pp, $29.95), billed as an “accessible and affordable introduction,” is exactly that. Arranged chronologically, the works featured are culled from the entirety of his career, from a black and white rained out Jubilee celebration, the chairs empty, the table set with soggy cake, to a vibrant shot of a woman being mauled by pigeons in Venice’s St. Mark’s Square.

Parr’s at his best when capturing the mundane lives of ordinary, mostly British people, whether they’re a crowd of bathers on a pebbled beach, or a woman selling Tupperware to a trio of disinterested guests.

One of the photographers whose work inspired Parr is American Stephen Shore, whose most recent book, Stephen Shore (Phaidon, pb, 160 pp, $59.95), is a career overview with accompanying essays and interviews.

Unlike Parr, Shore shot to notability early on. By the age of 14, the MoMa had acquired three of his photographs, and at 23, he became the first living photographer to nab a solo show at the MET. His stardom, however, likely had something to do with his connection to Andy Warhol.

Not yet out of high school, Shore took on a three-year residency at Warhol’s Factory, capturing the space and its regulars at their creative peak. Included in this collection are some standard Factory shots—Warhol and Lou Reed lounging on couches, Edie Sedgwick in trademark eyeliner—but there’s also a wonderfully candid shot of Nico enjoying a glass of kosher milk at Shore’s parents’ house.

It’s this juxtaposition of public and private that would set the tone for the rest of Shore’s career. From the New York scene, his work migrates to middle America where he captures motel rooms, lunch counters and national parks. In recent years, he’s taken his distinctly North American eye abroad, examining the history and geography of Italy, Israel and Geneva.

Often controversial Dutch artist Erwin Olaf’s newest, Erwin Olaf (Aperture, hc, 112 pp, $65), is an accessible collection of recent work. While known as a commercial photographer, his previous artistic endeavours have been attention grabbers but there are no nude models toting brand name bags here. This book is comprised of emotionally stylized photographs exploring themes of hope, grief and rain. Olaf fetishizes mid-century fashions and décor with his meticulously staged interiors and surreal lighting.

As with most of his work, heavy post-production photo manipulation helps increase the disquieting atmosphere. The photos, which are beautifully printed in large format, are accompanied by a disc of five short films, offering a view of the parallel universe inhabited by the models that appear in the photos. While the cinematography is striking, the films don’t add to the photos—gorgeous looking, but not tension filled.

Just as Olaf’s photos are staged, Israeli photographer Michal Chelbin photographs those who live on the stage. In Strangely Familiar: Acrobats, Athletes, and Other Traveling Troupes (Aperture, hc, 112 pp, $45), Chelbin delves into a world unknown to most with stunning portraits of dwarves, contortionists, acrobats and other performers.

Though the subculture of performers is not new to artistic scrutiny—Diane Arbus comes to mind—Chelbin’s photos sit perfectly balanced within the grey zones of private and public. Her lens gazes beyond the performer and the costumes to take stock of the individual while challenging the ideas of normality.

Capturing troupes in the Ukraine, Eastern Europe, Israel and England, the settings are at times almost interchangeable but the colours remain strong and saturated and often overpower the few black and white shots included. Children and adolescents play an important role here as the awkwardness of youth is paired with the awkwardness of the performers.