Hiroshi Sugimoto “End of Time”

Soon after, I realized that it was due to the unusual combination two elements: Sugimoto’s large scale photos of plaster sculptures that are 3D visualizations of mathematical and engineering formulas, and the high pitched, static noise composition in the background. The display of several thin, but larger than human size, calculus visualizations made of steel almost seemed to be emitting the noise. The sound came on and off as I strolled through the second and third room of the exhibit, after which I was no longer aware of it. Because of that attention-grabbing intermittent sound, it became clear to me that the show is equally about the nature of the medium of photography as it is about the the experience of time or its disappearance in photography – as the title of the show suggests.

Sugimoto, the artist and curator of End of Time, looks reflexively at his own quarter-century or so of exploring photography, often taking a strong theoretical approach to the medium. He is not humble: it is hard to stay humble, especially if one has to write about one’s accomplishments in the first person, as he does wittily.
Sugimoto’s works are principally about light and shadow. They are mostly, but not exclusively monochromatic, printed with techniques he invented himself to achieve perfection in blacks and whites. The mathematical figures made of plaster become abstract due to the masterful lighting, which is ironic, as they were made in order to illustrate and not render the concepts as further abstracts.

Light is also key to Sugimoto’s signature, minimalist “Sea Scapes.” The spotlights illuminating the large photos have been precisely adjusted to underscore particular areas of each identically framed work, which in effect differ only in the atmospheric conditions over the sea and the degree of overall darkness, which ranges from very white to almost pitch black.

In photography, the work of art lives on despite the death of the real object, but for Sugimoto the process could be reversed, as for example in the “Dioramas” from the natural history museums, and the portraits of the historical figures from the Madame Tussaud collection. The figures, be they human, animal, or artificial landscapes are given life in Sugimoto’s images and lose it accordingly to the laws probably best expressed in Camera Lucida.

Photography is to a certain degree a time-based medium, not in the way it is exhibited but in the way the image is captured. One has to expose the frame for a fraction of a second to obtain an image. Sugimoto experiments with time by using the time-based medium of film as the subject. He has taken photos in various American movie theaters, exposing single frames for the entire duration of a film screening. He obtained white screens within the frames, which, he underscores, have different shade of white depending on the film genre that they represent. This part of the show is even more interesting when viewed together with the series of photos depicting films on display in Sugimoto’s show currently being held at the Japan Society in New York. For this series, he photographed films that are unusual but coveted by film buffs, a selection of his favorite Japanese movies, often including cult titles such as Blind Beast and various Seijun Suzuki films.

In the last room at the Mori Museum, Sugimoto makes a dual exploration of architecture and photographic focus. His photos of the canon of world’s modern architecture have the look of a hazy day, as though seen through the eyes of a short-sighted person. The buildings are blurry and removed, an impression far from the practical ends they serve.

There are quite a few other treasures in this exploration of the nature of medium: Noh theater, minimalism, video, installation and architecture, but they all need to be experienced in person. End of Time shows the life of this photographer has lived until now.