In the first part of his latest show at the Charles H. Scott gallery, Gregory Crewdson manages to create a tense but beautiful environment for the viewer to be enticed into...before realizing it's too late. He draws us into his photos by using seductive colors and images of things we associate with natural beauty - butterflies, trees, and flowers. But as we are drawn in, we realize there is something disturbing about these scenes depicted. As we investigate them, we see that while they show supposed natural beauty, the beauty is fake, artificial. They are NOT real birds and animals, but stuffed versions of the real things. We accept their frozen actions and forms at first because that is what we expect of a photograph - stopped time. We slowly realize, however, that these animals are not just stopped by the camera, but also in life itself. The effect is somewhat gruesome, as we don't expect dead animals to look so perfect. This play between an entirely created world and the truthful qualities we assign to the photograph provides an uneasy tension. The artist pushes this tension by adding another ele- ment. Often, he inserts images of human body parts that are mangled and torn, often decaying amidst a group of perplexed "animals." Rather than using mannequin parts, he uses casts of his own body, playing again on the real and unreal qualities his images thrive on. The body parts relate to viewers their own mortality, but on the artist's terms. He places us in an uncomfortable realm where we see something gruesome, but, we are still enticed to look at it. Many of his images are framed in foliage and con- vey a sense of a “peephole" in which, we, the unknowing, are forced to become voyeurs. In the last three photos of the show, located at the end:of the gallery space, Crewdson takes a new direction in his photographs. He continues his careful orchestration of the image, but now uses real space and live subjects to accomplish it. Manipulating our sense of what is real and what can be real, he plays on the disturbing nature of his images and the disturbing or humorous responses we have to them. These images manage to accomplish the same thing as his other photos. They lure us in and then pounce on us with a subject that is just off enough to be almost disturbing, but...intriguing at the same time. By the time we reach "Yankee Septic", we know the artist's intention to draw the viewer into an illusion, but still we are fooled. Who is this levitating woman? Why is she floating? What caused all of the garbage to be spilled? All of these questions spring to mind and then we see the truth...it is all orchestrated. He has manipulated the images, and us, again. Before we know it, we are the voyeur looking in on Crewdson's disturbing world, but this time with a birds-eye view. Not precisely the kind of setting in which you cat and contemplate quietly or even really discuss the work, but of course, that is not what an opening is about. Yeah, you sort of look at the work, but you will spend longer looking at and talking to people; it is about the art scene more than it is about the art. Despite the circumstances | did my best to concentrate on what was hanging on the walls and not on what was standing on the floor. | have been trying to find a unifying thread for these photographs, but there is always one or two images that don't quite fit with the rest. Even the choice in presentation plays with an apparent inconsistency, with both colour and black and white prints being presented in similar format for the most part, except for 40 Armoured Cars. | am not say- ing this is the first time I've seen these combinations, but there is something particular in this case. There are interior and exterior shots, pristine and grubby, nearly monochromatic and full colour, natural and artificial... explore the suspension of disbelief" really touched on how | felt when | was looking at the photographs. | keep feeling that there might be a story, a narrative, that | am totally missing. The main thing | get from Evan Lee's work is something about f irae at d state in which | am waiting for a. n how to pu these photos together, wondering if what binds them might be the suspense itself. - Gregory Crewdson's Disturbed Nature reviewed by Melanie Jones In the first part of his latest show at the Charles H. Scott gallery, Gregory Crewdson manages to create a tense but beautiful environment for the viewer to be enticed into...before realizing it's too late. He draws us into his photos by using seductive colors and images of things we associate with natural beauty - butterflies, trees, and flowers. But as we are drawn in, we realize there is something disturbing about these scenes depicted. As we investigate them, we see that while they show supposed natural beauty, the beauty is fake, artificial. They are NOT real birds and animals, but stuffed versions of the real things. We accept their frozen actions and forms at first because that is what we expect of a photograph - stopped time. We slowly realize, however, that these animals are not just stopped by the camera, but also in life itself. The effect is somewhat gruesome, as we don't ‘expect dead animals to look so perfect. This play between an entirely created world and the truthful qualities we assign to the photograph provides an uneasy tension. The artist pushes this tension by adding another ele- ment. Often, he inserts images of human body parts that are mangled and tom, often decaying amidst a group of perplexed “animals.” Rather than using mannequin parts, he uses casts of his own body, playing again on the real and unreal qualities his images thrive on. The body Parts relate to viewers their own mortality, but on the artist’s terms. He places us in an uncomfortable realm where we see something gruesome, but, we are stil enticed to look at it. Many of his images are framed in foliage and con- vey a sense of a "peephole” in which, we, the unknowing, are forced to become voyeurs. In the last three photos of the show, located at the end of the gallery space, Crewdson takes a new direction in his photographs. He continues his careful orchestration of the image, but now uses real space and live subjects to accomplish it. Manipulating our serise of what is real and what can be real, he plays on the disturbing nature of his images and the disturbing or humorous responses we have to them. These images manage to accomplish the same thing as his other photos. They lure us in and then pounce on us with a subject that is just off enough to be almost disturbing, but...intriguing at the same time. By the time we reach "Yankee Septic™, we know the artist's intention to draw the viewer into an illusion, but still we are fooled. Who is this levitating woman? Why is she floating? What caused all of the garbage to be spilled? All Of these questions spring to mind and then we see the truth... is all orchestrated. He has manipulated the images, and us, again. Before we know it, we are the voyeur looking in on Crewdson's disturbing world, but this time with a birds-eye view. Evan Lee: Photographs at the OR Gallery reviewed by Matha Gonzalez Palacios walked in to the OR Gallery to find’ as expected = that it was nearly impossible to look at Evan Lee's work. It was opening night, around 10 p.m., so the place was packed. Inbetween “excuse me's* and *hi, how are you's", | managed to look at the photographs. Not precisely the kind of setting in which you can stop and contemplate quietly or even really discuss the work, but of course, that is not what an opening is about. Yeah, you sort of look at the work, but you will spend longer looking at and talking to people; itis about the art scene more than it is about the art Despite the circumstances | did my best to concentrate on what was hanging on the walls and not on what was standing on the floor. | have been trying to find a unifying thread for these photographs, but there is always one or two images that don't quite fit with the rest. Even the choice in presentation plays with an apparent inconsistency, with both colour and black and white prints being presented in similar format for the ‘most part, except for 40 Armoured Cars. | am not say- ing this isthe first time I've seen these combinations, but there is something particular in this case. There are interior and exterior shots, pristine and grubby, nearly monochromatic and full colour, natural and artifical Somebody asked me if it was'a’good ior a’bad show. | don't think it was bad, but I don't know if! would cate- gorize it as a good show, either. In M. Somani’s essay, "The Gospel of Pictures," provided at the gallery, the author's reference to “how [the pictures] quietly explore the suspension of disbelief* really touched on how | felt when | was looking at the photographs. | keep feeling that there might be a story, a narrative, that | am totally missing. The main thing | get from Evan Lee's work is something about found images, but those photographs are'certainly not just spontaneous moments captured by the camera, as “pure objectivity”. There is something planned, or bet- ter yet, staged about most of them. There is nothing random about them. So I find myself returning to the state in which | am waiting for a clue on how to put these photos together, wondering if what binds them might be the suspense itself. 23 @)