AROUND THE GALLERIES
By Leah Ollman,
Special to The Times
April 18, 2008
Photography,
literally defined, means writing with light, and light packs heat. Together,
the twinned energy sources fuel Chris McCaw's astonishingly beautiful body of
work, "Sunburns," at Duncan Miller.
The process McCaw
devised to create the work is captivating. Each picture is a unique print, made
in a large-format camera that the Bay Area-artist built himself using old,
scavenged lenses. McCaw sets up his cameras in the desert or near the sea,
aimed with the sun fully within the frame. He places photographic paper where
film belongs, inside the camera's film holder. Exposures can last up to four
hours. They produce an image that is a negative but that appears to be positive
because the lengthy exposure time and the idiosyncratic behavior of the expired
photographic paper cause a reversal of values akin to the effect of
solarization.
Further, the lens concentrates
the sun's rays. Remember the old scouting method of starting a fire by using a
magnifying glass? Over time, those focused rays burn into the photographic
paper. In some of the images, the sun appears as a singed black dot. In other,
longer exposures, the arc of the sun's rising or setting has slashed all the
way through the paper, leaving a scarred absence outlined in scorched black.
McCaw's favorite part
of the process, he states on his website, "is watching smoke come out of
the camera during the exposure."
It's hard to pick
favorites among the results. The images mesmerize in different ways. Some show
just sea and sky as barely differentiated bands of gray, the water shimmering
with light reflected from a paradoxically dark sun. For some pictures, McCaw
opens and closes the shutter several times, so the sun repeats as it rises,
forming a string of coded dots, ascending notes on a scale.
McCaw uses a variety
of photographic papers in different sizes, and they yield a rich range of
tonalities and temperatures. One image looks as if it were drawn in metallic
dust; another, in graphite or charcoal. Another, anomalous in this group, has
the creamy sepia tones of the 19th century. The process reduces subjects --
Joshua trees, palms, sea cliffs and mountain ranges -- to silhouettes, giving
McCaw's daytime photographs the moody, elusive quality of Whistler nocturnes.
Several pictures read
as pure gesture: the slash of the sun's trail across a scale-less expanse, the
fall of a luminous, silvery comet. Lucio Fontana's "Spatial Concept"
paintings, their surfaces violated by punctures and slicing stabs, come to
mind, as do Joe Goode's "Environmental Impact" canvases, pierced by
shotgun blasts. McCaw's work too entails violation, but not violence, and the interruptions
of the surface are inflicted not by the human hand but by natural (and
chemical) processes, harnessed. The work feels more reverential than defiant, a
homage to the creative/destructive powers of nature and the wholly explicable
mysteries of the photographic process.
Accident and
ingenuity conspired to bring these images into being. They are sculptural,
painterly and photographic at once, tactile, expressive, physical traces of
phenomena.
Over a pale San
Francisco skyline, a thick excision weeps dry rust. Light writes and writes and
writes, until eventually it erases.
McCaw Sunburned GSP #
100 (Utah)
McCaw SUNBURNED GSP#197
McCaw Sunburn GSP # 125
Mojave
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Excerpt
Galleries
Decoding
images traced by the sun (and the moon)
Kenneth
Baker
Saturday,
April 5, 2008
McCaw at Togonon: Exploiting an exposure of the night sky, accidentally
prolonged until well after sunrise, Chris McCaw entered on a body of work that
touches both the primitive origins of photography and its existential limits.
Chris McCaw ÒSunburn
GSP # 156 (SF Bay)Ó 2007 unique gelatin silver paper negative
ÒSunburned GSP #156
(SF Bay)Ó (2007) offers a characteristic example. In it, the sun has traced a
part of its own trajectory across the sky, literally burning it into, and even
through, the paper negative. A strange metallic light pervades the image, as
reminiscent of daguerreotype as of an ordinary photographic print. The sun's
passage provides not only proof of the image's indexical character, but also an
internal marker of exposure time, analogous to the distance key on a map.
McCaw has found a way
to clarify photography as process art, while evoking a sense of the medium as a
by-product of the primal division of our lives between daylight and darkness.
Now he faces the really difficult challenge of keeping his terrific creative
accident from turning into a rut.
Chris
McCaw: Each Sun: Photographs. Through April 12. Togonon Gallery, 77 Geary St., San Francisco.
(415) 398-5572, www.togonongallery.com