PhotoEspaña and Rencontres de la Photographie


If success begets success, this eighth incarnation of PhotoEspaña is no exception. Massive, brilliantly coordinated and displayed, PhotoEspaña is the epitome of a perfectly run festival. The question is, is it too slick, too accomplished for its own good? Or, better put, did this year’s production values outstrip the content of the work on the myriad walls around the city of Madrid and at its satellite location in nearby Toledo?

The problem is certainly not in the concept or the execution. This year’s theme, “Ciudad” or “City” provided ample room to attract a variety of artistic positions exploring what cities mean as entities both spiritual and temporal. There were cross-cultural exercises, by the Fotoleve group, for example, that explored in video one day in the life of six Mediterranean cities, and depicted the similarities of people from nearly identical milieu living in standardised social housing. Other work, by Ricky Dávila, Fernell Franco, and Oscar Mariné, looked at Manila, Bogotá, and Buenos Aires respectively. Montserrat Soto looked at Madrid’s periphery in a sound and video installation while Stan Douglas looked at his own “shrinking city” of Detroit. It all looked good and was reasonably informative and easily accessible. Indeed, most of the work here had been shown at one biennale or another, from Havana to Shanghai. This points to a problem. Why should such a fine festival as PhotoEspaña serve as a recapitulation or annointment of work that has already been shown on the festival level?

Similarly, a series of bodies of work by Martin Parr, David Spero, and Stephen Gill also presented problems. These series, of parking places, wooded huts or street churches, map readers and so on, served either as interchangeable one offs – nice individual pictures – or as a series whose potential impact evaporated after about the fifth – of 20 – images. It is not very surprising, or interesting, that a parking space in Chicago looks like one in Dublin or Tallinn if carefully selected. We get the joke. This kind of set up seems to defeat the premise of documentary photography, if that was the original intent of PhotoEspaña or the artists, and places the work more in the context of concept art, a la ARCO Madrid or Art Basel.

There were also several noteworthy retrospectives and rediscoveries. Walter Rosenblum was the subject of a massive retrospective, with Bill Owens and Stephen Shore, himself shortlisted for the Deutsche Börse prize in London, rounding out the American contingent. William Klein, that quintessential American in Paris, showed rare work related to all his cities. Perhaps the most interesting “rediscovery” to me at least, was the work of Gabriel Cualladó, a photographer of the Franco era whose work was very reminiscent of W Eugene Smith and Walker Evans in its lyrical simplicity and its ability to tell stories in the details.

It was work by Guy Tillim and David Goldblatt, both from South Africa, and Bertien van Manen from the Netherlands, that bridged the gaps between photojournalism, documentary photography, and art in their approaches to the city. The newer work by Goldblatt and Tillim shares much in common as it depicts the transitions in “The New South Africa”. Tillim, especially, documents the emptying out of the white-occupied high-rises in downtown Johannesburg and their transition to “Africa towns” and the subsequent attempts at eviction by the city authorities. Bertien van Manen, on the other hand, examines the use of photography, specifically family portraits, as keepsakes and icons of loved ones lost in war. It is a moving body of work that speaks to the multiple roles, both sacred and profane, that photography plays in contemporary culture. Beyond the exhibitions, PhotoEspaña orchestrated portfolio reviews that were rather less than perfect for want of being pre-selected by the curators and gallerists supporting the festival. This prevented the reviewers from getting a rawer take on contemporary Spanish photography. Still, it was better than nothing. Finally, there was a series of slide and video presentations, one of which featured an homage to Madrid’s own bombing tragedy, the attacks on 11.3.04 at Atocha Station. It was surprisingly eerie, not the least because in order to get around town to see the shows, one was always popping in and out of the Metro.

If PhotoEspaña suffers from an excess of slickness, it could easily be rectified by including newer, fresher work and moving away from the art fair level of representation. Everything else is in place: direction, money, marketing, and a phenomenal location. In fact Madrid has displaced Arles as the place to see work on the walls, but Arles does retain its cachet as a functional meeting place for photographers, albeit barely.

What is there to say about the Rencontres that hasn’t been said before? Now, at 36 and in middle age, it seems directionless and running on nostalgia. This year’s crop of shows was notably weak. In honour of the “Year of Brazil in France” some shows were cobbled together featuring some of the finest names of Brazilian photography, Miguel Rio Branco and Mario Cravo Neto, and other lesser known photographers, Rosángela Rennó, Arthur Omar, and Olhares do Morro whose installation on Rio’s favelas was a rare highlight. A large body of work from Israel provided a very mixed bag but was illuminated by the graphic designs of David Tartakover and the media critiques of Michal Heiman. Another featured grouping was “A World under Stress” and included the Iraq photography of Geert van Kesteren, Why Mister Why?, and a selection of images by Christien Meindertsma of items confiscated in one week at Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport. Joan Fontcuberta, who was the first guest curator of the Rencontres back in 1996, exhibited his photodocumentary spoof, “Miracles & Co”.’ In honour of the 20th anniversary of the Arles-based École Nationale de la Photographie there was a major group show at an abbey just out of town, about which the less said, the better.

Evenings were not much enlivened by the slide and video presentations, especially that touting New York’s renowned International Center for Photography and the nauseating, glorified client pitch by Corbis Outline on celebrity photography.

Nobody, of course, really goes to Arles to see the work on the walls. They go to Arles to see who wins the big European photography prizes and to network their socks off. The prize ceremonies proved to be an embarrassment; all but exceeding last year’s Robert Wilson inspired fiasco. During the projections of winners and runners up, a pianist dabbled on the keys and skatted along or against the flow of images passing overhead. It was incomprehensible. The Arles Book Award was given to Swiss photographer Jules Spinatsch for his monograph Temporary Discomfort. Simon Norfolk received the Outreach Award for his photography of sites of conflict. Anna Malagrida of Spain received The Project Assistance Grant. The No Limit Award, for work that pushes the boundaries of photography, was awarded to Mathieu Bernard-Reymond from France for his digital montages. Miroslav Tichy won The Discovery Award for his eclectic photography of women using hand made cameras. Fazal Sheikh was winner of the newly inaugurated bi-annual Henri Cartier-Bresson International Award. Once again, the only award that made real sense was the Oskar Barnack award presented by Leica Camera to Guy Tillim for his Johannesburg project.

Networking continues to be raison d’etre of the Rencontres as is already made clear in its very name. Photographers from all over, some 3,000 or so, packed the Place du Forum’s cafes and restaurants, showed their portfolios to one another and to various curators, gallerists, publishers and collectors.

Arles desperately needs to do something to get back on track. After floundering around for a few years without an artistic director, last year’s festival boss Francois Hebel brought in Martin Parr to lend the show some structure. This year, without a director, Arles was a let down. As an additional comment, the press department needs a complete revamping to see that all information is available to all who need it. There is no comparison to the efficiencies in Madrid or Perpignan where everything actually works. If Arles is actually to survive, it needs to do far better both at the level of shows and information politics. The Rencontres cannot get by on charm and nostalgia alone. There are better festivals out there in the world now. BK