Alex Prager is everywhere, isn't she? Or is she? I don't know. About a month ago, I went to New York and visited the MoMA in a speedy afternoon. I didn't have too much time, and in hindsight maybe wish I hadn't spent so much of it seeing the Abstract Expressionist exhibit, which is coming to the AGO anyways. I did, though, get the chance to see both the spectacular permanent collection exhibition (*really, it was like an Art History 101 textbook come to life, reminded me of those big names that first piqued my interest in the subject in the first place) and the exhibition,
New Photography 2010: Roe Ethridge, Elad Lassry, Alex Prager, Amanda Ross-Ho.
Prager's work, for me anyways, commands a room with its bright colour and heavy stylization. There was a group of MoMa-ers crowded around her video of Bryce Dallas Howard with tear filled eyes, mesmerized by her fiery hair and equally blood-red lips. This display of admiration speaks at large for the whole of her exhibited work. My boyfriend stood longingly at the smoking image below and I think Prager's work is responsible for his recent conversion to photography (he since started a little collection (see TPW post below), that befits me living with him).
I'd maybe be a little less convinced about Prager's work, big colour and fashionable styling can be eye catching fine, but the cinematic, film noir
qualities of the photographs are what keeps your gaze (I'm using the gaze here in less critical terms, because the male gaze and Prager's subjects, especially with mentions of my bf staring, requires a whole other blog post).
I found her nods to other artists, like Hitchcock with the photograph above, particularly engaging. The bright colours, Mad Men clothing and vicious black birds are so hyper realistic, it's nearly made three-dimensional, evidence of her technical skill. And obviously, they're largely inspired by Sherman, with the staging and guises upon guises, but the clear attachment to cinema edges it out from becoming something overly wannabe. Immediately too, Guy Bourdain comes to mind. I had been researching the odd (biographically-speaking) photographer a bit here and there and his popping coloured, surrealist-images have been burned into my mind (MoMA makes these links too in their description of the show).
But, everything I do like about them was interrupted by the disappointment felt when I watched her aloof interview with Roxana Marcoci, curator in the Dept. of Photography at MoMa. Prager is unconvincing and unable to critically engage with her own work, despite Marcoci pressing for discussion. Perhaps it's naive, but I find it bothersome when an artist is inarticulate about his or her work. The interview was met with a chorus of cries berating the young artist, which is an important tangent in itself. Prager is young. Is that an excuse? Maybe, but I'd like to see her at least appear to make a conscious effort to frame her work besides bringing up that she hopes it elicits emotion, which if you read my blog (and few do), you know there are few things an artist or critic can say that irritates me more.
