Still, seeing the RECOGNIZE! exhibit there was refreshing and exciting, because whether you love or hate hip hop, you can’t deny it’s impact on global culture, media, advertising, speech, et cetera. So as I made my way to I was imagining what kind of work would be presented (I didn’t bother to actually READ the names of the representative artists). I suspected some graffiti, maybe posters, flyers a few paintings, but I was really expecting tons of photography. After all, hip hop boomed in the 80s and early 90s (around the same time that the 1-hour/disposable camera culture was mushrooming) and more than most other music/lifestyles hip hop was (and is) driven by IMAGE. So the photographic reproduction of hip hop starts and wanna-bees was essential to the spread of the culture. Unfortunately, I was mistaken in my assumptions that the exhibit would be a survey of Hip-Hop portraiture, instead the exhibit was a small group show representing singular approaches in the fields of photography, painting, graffiti, film, and poetry/installation.
Overall I actually enjoyed the exhibit, though. The painter featured was Kehinde Wiley, whose neon mashups of French Rococo and heroic paintings with hip-hop stars were a joy to behold (even though the ceilings were way too low for the scale of his paintings). There were also three very engaging video pieces by Jefferson Pinder. Unfortunately, the photography section of the show was a bit of a letdown. The work featured was from renowned landscape photographer David Scheinbaum, whose beautiful landscapes and panoramas are delicately composed and intriguing. The work Scheinbaum had in Recognize! is from his ongoing series documenting hip-hop performers, shows and audiences. While the idea and the heart is certainly there, the images themselves lack the verve and energy that is, well, typical of hip-hop shows. The photographs displayed were very cold and static; Scheinbaum even manged to take the zing from ROOTS drummer ?uestlove. Two images I did find nice were a shot of rapper Jean Grae:
and a nice motion shot of MF Doom.
These images do a bit to capture the sprit of these folks and the shows; they squeeze the mass of the sounds, lyrics and bravada into a concise moment and hold you.
Scheinbaum admits to being an outsider to the world of hip-hop; he approached it intially as a parent of children engulfed in the culture and not a fan (although I do get the sense that he is a big fan now). He also cites the work of Roy DeCarava for stylistic inspiration. Perhaps that’s one of the problems with these images, DeCarava was a renowned Jazz photographer and while not as well known as the venerable Herman Leonard, some of DeCarava’s images were equally powerful and in many ways more poetic and meditative. Of course, hip-hop shows leave very little time for introspection and I need more insight into the flow of the spectacle and not a glimpse of the pipes and walls of the backstage area. Which leads to me another niggle I had with Scheinbaum’s work, it felt a bit “fanboy’ish” as if he were seeing these people as celebrities and stars and no as poets and musicians. There was a sort of a Naturaist’s eye at work in some of the images and not a photographer's. It was hard for me to understand why the Gallery chose these particular works, when the likes of Jamel Shabazz and Martha Cooper are in dire need of a broader audience.
Seeing Scheinbaum’s work here actually reminded of Charles Peterson’s seminal series, “Touch Me I’m Sick.” His series documented the very early days of Seattle’s grunge scene and is a benchmark for contemporary music photography. It showcased the musicians’ and fans’ spirit, DIY attitude and really helped outsiders see waht was driving the music. I feel as if Scheinbaum's has the potential to be that, but for now is in a sort of stasis mode, like a lyric waiting to be born or a line needing to be spit.
- SB
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