artist/artisan

On Saturday I read the obituary for Bobby Model whose tragic death at age 36 and considerable obituary in the Times, with the intriguing title "Prominent Adventure Photographer," made me want to learn more about him. I clicked on National Geographic's site to view some of Model's portfolio which supports the Times's claim that indeed he was indeed an adventure photographer. If images of Crocodile Dundee and Indiana Jones crop up in your mind, you wouldn't be too far off the mark with Model's series Gustave the Killer Crocodile. Or is it that the commercial publication itself, which needs to position Model as an adventure photographer, a photographer chasing the big money shot, which obscures the richness of Model's images?

By no means a connoisseur of National Geographic, I assume it has to make sales in the same way as other media: through excitement, adventure, and terror. Ok, so I really would like to see a shot of the 20 foot long, 1-ton reptile but I was taken by the full range of Model's visual narrative, from the scientists who study the wildlife of Burundi, to the families who have suffered losses because of an encounter with the elusive Gustave. Part of this series includes documentary evidence of conflict between the Hutu and Tutsi tribes as well as the continuing strong military presence in that country. One 2,000 pound crocodile has nothing on the human manifestations of agression, Model seems to say, in his lush, dynamic color photographs. His portrait of a soldier wearing a bandolier of bullets simulteneously provokes fear and fascination as the copper casings cascade off the figure's dark skin onto his military fatigues. Wow! This image has serious staying power. It is as beautiful a composition as you would hope to see, comprised of strong forms, transcendent color, and a powerful subject that embraces beauty as well as its ostensible focus--endless war in Africa.

As a curator I am frequently asked to comment formally and informally on the validity of a work as "fine" as opposed to commercial or journalistic art. I turned to my friend Jesse Kalisher for his comment on this question. Jesse works both angles as he sells his works through his own gallery to major outlets that pop his black-and-white images of the Eiffel Tower on hotel room walls. But he also can claim a place in major museum collections. It's a dicey question for which no flawless guidelines exist, but Jesse nailed it for me when he said "ultimately, I liken commercial work to being an artisan...a carpenter who is terrific at working with wood and following a set of plans. An artist is more like an architect who can conceive of a grand idea and then lead it to execution." On view at the New Museum, the photography of South African David Goldblatt underscores this idea that photography can be a tool or it can invite revelation, much as a house is either just shelter or an expression of the inhabitants and designer.

I take my hat off to Bobby Model who easily wore the mantle of prominent adventure photographer but whose legacy could posthumously afford him a position in the art world.