Ken Rosenthal is a Los Angeles born photographer, now based in Tucson. He studied at USC, receiving a BA in still photography and then went on to earn a masters in photography at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Although his work has been seen in group exhibitions in Tucson, he has not yet received much national attention. For his solo debut in Los Angeles he presents 30 photographic prints that explore the theme of memory. In Seen and Not Seen, Rosenthal examines how our memories are informed by photographs as well as by dreams, and how events or people that we remember might in fact be things we never experienced. The inspiration for this body of work came from looking through family photographs. Rosenthal remarks, "As I would look through our old family photo albums, I began to realize that many of the memories these pictures evoked would seem very real to me, but in reality the pictures were taken before I was born, or were of events where I was not present."
The images Rosenthal presents are reworkings of the original family photographs. Rather than working them digitally, Rosenthal does his manipulation the old fashioned way, in the darkroom. He uses a number of different diffusion techniques while printing, or uses bleach and selective toning after the work is printed. An experienced printer, Rosenthal worked in Arnold Newmans studio, and uses in his own work those techniques he picked up working there. Rosenthals toned silver gelatin prints are modestly sized squares. Each image seems to be shot through a haze. The images are soft focus and blurry. The blurriness adds mystery as well as a timelessness to the work. While many of the images present recognizable imagery--pictures of women and children, family outings and games--it is impossible to ascertain a specific identity. Rosenthal wants these images to evoke another time and place, to suggest a memory of a person or event without the ability to recall details.
The subjects include infants as well as adults. They capture random gestures as well as ambiguous moments. In one image a figure sits on a horse. As most of the image is composed of ground and sky, it is impossible to identify the rider or the location. Similarly a man looks out at a cavernous expanse. Is this the Grand Canyon? Are we seeing a photograph meant to capture the awe of nature in relation to the individual, or is it just a badly composed snapshot? Since it is impossible to know what the original looked like or why it was shot, we are forced to trust Rosenthals manipulations. After all, he is re-telling the story, re-writing history, re-presenting his familys drama, but in doing so transforming the autobiographical into the universal. |
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From the series "Seen and
Not Seen (#1311-3)", 2001,
photograph, 16 x 20".
From the series "Seen and
Not Seen (#001-A-1)", 2001,
photograph, 16 x 20".

From the series "Seen and
Not Seen (#483-3)", 2001,
photograph, 16 x 20".

From the series "Seen and
Not Seen (#FJR-46-5)", 2001,
photograph, 16 x 20".
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