Boyd Soloman is a man plagued by the desire to fly. In the first pages of Brian Biggs’s Dear Julia several panels pan over Boyd’s empty apartment and we see the evidence of this obsession. Paper airplanes. Feathers. Empty birdcages. Toy rocket ships. An empty window.
Ave Maria is a community that, because of the economic downturn, has had to change its plan. In Steel’s photographs Ave Maria is curiously devoid of what many would say forms the backbone of a community: the community members. There is a grand total of one person in Steele’s photographs, and upon closer inspection it is a photograph of a person watching a football game on a small television in a very large room.
Norberg uses a process that predates the advent of color film. This process involves the combination of three black and white negatives to produce a color image. This creates an interesting effect whenever there is movement in the landscape—false colors are produced in these areas. The process requires the viewer to see this landscape through a different set of eyes. The landscape becomes static and desaturated, while our sight is drawn to the vibrant colors of the shifting sky and trees.
The landscape images in this work show the evidence of continued federal management of these parklands. Interestingly, the only image that at first seems to lack any clear evidence of man, (the first image in this article) is actually a landscape created by a man-made reservoir.
She shows us a town that seems to be full of the sort of colors and life that we imagine when we conjure an image of the Big Easy. Many of these photographs depict the streets and avenues of New Orleans. But, Sophie intentionally leaves out the people that normally populate these thoroughfares. The true subject of this work seems to be the colors and heavy air that hangs over everything in this city surrounded by so much water.