1998 was my only camp
The most impressive sculpture was a Semi towing a big flatbed that also towed a huge generator
The Star was a man in chains pulling big lightning from 2 steel posts
The parade never stopped, we all ran to see it
No time to fetch my camera
I forget his name
Blinding Sparks
Tin Can
Thanks for the article!
Love the images.
Love his work.
I am an unabashed fan of Richard Misrach's work and this article helps me better understand the genesis of these particular images. Thank you for sharing.
"I have this feeling of walking around for days with the wind knocked out of me." - Jim Harrison
Thanks for posting, I enjoyed the article and the photographs.
Roger
Misrach is a hero and it's nice to see a few shots I hadn't seen before.
I have the Desert Cantos book, I think.
You've got to admire the commitment of someone who could take over 350 shots of dead animals in dumping pits, on 8x10" transparency film.
It was Vericolor L long before Portra - perhaps he had a stash of it - and he didn't print any of it himself. Those who did had a lot of trouble with both him and the quality of the negs. But he did bag a few classics over the years.
Most of his shots were rather redundant - more of the same. A bit of a machine-gunner, even for LF. It was that era. Wish 8x10 color film was still that affordable. He switched to MF digital and is apparently a lot more comfortable with that. But I find his later work too predictably academic. I prefer the rawer look of his 8x10 days, focus problems and all. But it was black and white night photography which put him on the map, once he finally made it through his starving artist phase. Another local.
He lost the photo paper he needed to print his images...split toning on Portriga Rapid...and could not make any more of his night work, etc. just when it was selling and being collected. Then he (and others) lost everything in a studio fire, prints, negs, etc. So it appears he has needed to reinvent himself a few times. One can admire the drive and his results.
"Landscapes exist in the material world yet soar in the realms of the spirit..." Tsung Ping, 5th Century China
Oh, blatantly bleached out desert colors were already becoming a trend in SoCal. Richard was allergic to color chem so couldn't print his own, much less do big enlargements of them. He was among that generation of daring wild gamblers - some projects came out really looking like something, while others were total bellyflops. Dive in head first, see if the pool has water in it afterwards. Proof prints were made of almost everything. His Louisiana Swamp Series, color shots randomly taken in the dark using a strobe, not even seeing what he was shooting, much less being able to focus on it, was just about the worst bellyflop I've ever seen, and a lot of money went into it, with even a couple shots being dye transfer printed. How all that got funded I have no idea.
But his more classic SoCal desert style was funded by Southern Pacific RR, if I recall correctly. That, and the Salton Sea project, pretty much established his trend for quite awhile. The Ektacolor prints were RA4 tweaked in such a manner as to lend them that pinkish-tan tone which is quite unrealistic, but characteristic. He wore out his welcome at one of the labs, and the other one was right across the tracks from my office. I didn't like the way he treated my friends, so had no interest in knowing him personally. Those commercial lab folks put up with an awful lot of pigs ears one client after another, trying to make silk purses out of those, so if someone is particularly demanding they should either be more patient with the technicians, or bring them better exposed negatives to begin with.
I never experimented with that blatantly washed out Vericolor/Ektacolor genre popular at the time, and was neck deep into Cibachrome anyway. But its roller coaster evolution was interesting to witness.
His night work started there on Telegraph Ave next to the UCB Campus right when the Summer of Love ethos turned into the epitome of a hellscape. A book came out, Maybe 3 AM Telegraph Ave, or perhaps 2AM. Back then there were drug dealer operating openly on every block, lots of derelicts, drug burnouts, and downright crazies, including a prophet from Mars with a large following, along with several Gurus contemplating mass murder. Exploited runaway girls as well as boys all around. He photographed it all. And that landed him a gallery opening in NYC, which nobody showed up for except himself and his wife. Guess that's when reality set in that a career in this field was going to be a long hard slog. So he had to have a strong will.
Last edited by Drew Wiley; 16-Sep-2023 at 10:30.
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