Cuban-born photographer Gory (Rogelio Lopez Marin), who now lives in Miami, has created a collection of surrealistically tinged, photomontage-based images of New York City that work both as elegies mourning the September 11th attack, and timeless odes celebrating that citys joyous energy, indomitable spirit and unparalleled visual complexity. The pictures display the artists characteristic hand-toned treatment and multi-layered fields that point to his origins as a painter. They also link themselves with Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorcas surrealist masterpiece Poet In New York (posthumously published in New York in 1940), a book that has become a modernist emblem of urban industrialized alienation heightened by Lorcas life in exile.
In somewhat surprising contrast, Gorys wistfully poetic treatment of Manhattan stands out as an at once tender and innocent intercourse between the citys architectural canvas and the artists host of playful images. In fact, the overall treatment of the city reminds one more of Atgets Paris in its elegant quietness than Lorcas sea of angst; though Gorys romantic vision incorporates a jazzy if not hip-hop kind of energy absent in Atgets work. For example, in a piece called Knives, a floating array of cutlery set against an anonymously dull apartment building fuses the ideas of street violence, domesticity and the art of cooking into brilliant homeostasis.
Throughout the series, dreamlike images, many suggestive of life in Latin America, spring to the pictures foreground as if painted over the citys skyscrapers, which recede to welcome and support them like stretched canvases.
In Dresses this exact feeling of depth--emotional and compositional--erupts as three specter-like flowing dresses align themselves across the paper. A row of townhouses recedes back, while the arching branches of a tree flowers vertically out of one of the dresss bodiless torsos. In Horse a white field horse chained to a buildings wall nevertheless appears to be running freely, recalling Salvador Dalis statement that if one cannot understand the image of a horse galloping on a tomato, one cannot understand surrealism.
Other pictures stand out for their sheer compositional brilliance. Doors places the viewer in a junkyard, where a staggered horizontal row of car doors creates a cubist conversation of plane geometry and simultaneous perspective. A rider-less antique bicycle appears to fly through an alleyway in Bike. Again, the duet of the buildings brick wall and stark rectangular window, visible through the bikes airy wheels and handlebars, sound a Blakean note of innocence and experience. |
|

Dresses, 2002,
color photograph.
Knives, 2002,
color photograph.

Doors, 2002,
color photograph.

Horse, 2002,
color photograph.

Bike, 2002,
color photograph.
|