Review from 'The Oregonian' 
February 7, 2002

Masterworks from Mexico 
D.K. ROW 

Three days ago, on Feb. 4, one of the most admired photographers in the history of the medium, Manuel Alvarez Bravo, turned 100 years old. 

The day went unnoticed, even by many who follow photography diligently -- minutiae, perhaps, lost amid the urgencies of Afghanistan, the fall of Enron and reality television. 

Yet, it seems all too appropriate that this modest maker of quietly charged observances should receive little trumpeting at his centenary. 

Late last month, whether by coincidence or canny planning, the S.K. Josefsberg Studio opened a new exhibit of work by Alvarez Bravo, giving locals the most recent comprehensive showing by the master of all Mexican photographers. This is no small title, given that the lineage includes Alvarez Bravo's contemporary Tina Modotti and more recent photographers such as Graciela Iturbide. 

The culmination of two years of talks between Steven Josefsberg and the Rose Gallery in Santa Monica, Calif., the leading representative of Alvarez Bravo's work in the United States, the exhibit showcases about 30 prints from the 1920s through the 1970s. Although Alvarez Bravo's more famous images aren't on hand, the exhibit is an admirable sampling nonetheless, outlining the photographer's many different artistic faces. 

Indeed, it's hard to classify the enigmatic Alvarez Bravo, a self-taught photographer who took everything from landscapes to surrealist-style abstractions to sensuous nudes. But no matter the style his subject was always Mexico, a land rich both in the history and customs of its native people and the cultural influences of its colonizers. 

Born in Mexico City in 1902, Alvarez Bravo was raised during the rages of the Mexican revolution, when hundreds of thousands of Mexicans died from fighting or starvation. For the photographer, tumult would always mix effortlessly with folk rusticness and beauty. 

So even in photographs that capture the most mundane of activities, there is a threat, a moment or action illuminated unnaturally, resulting in what scholar Nissan N. Perez called the transformation of the unusual into the commonplace. In the incredible "Sheets," for example, a woman hanging white sheets is covered partially by a flowing black cloth, blown beyond control by the wind, maybe, or draped purposefully as if part of a mourning dance. 

Although he is loyal to, and steeped in, the culture of Mexico, many of Alvarez Bravo's influences were European photographers and other expatriates who traveled to Mexico, like the Italian Modotti and the American Edward Weston. Pictures such as "Books" -- a photograph that bathes a stack of books in stunning light and darkness -- and "Jicamas" -- where shiny pieces of the vegetable have been fetishistically placed upon one another -- attest to the influence of Weston, whose stark precision and hyper-scrutiny of subject matter influenced many. 

The show also features a few nudes that provoke a similar frisson of sensuality and wonder. "Forbidden Fruit," for example, shows a woman nestled among leaves and branches, her left nipple and breast exposed unabashedly. Taken in 1975, when the photographer was in his 70s, the exquisite photo is yet further testimony that the notorious woman-ogler was equal parts documenter of beauty and lover of flesh and fantasy. 

Not as well known were Alvarez Bravo's portraits of artists and intellectuals, which are often dazzlingly revealing moments. (A memorable one is of Sergei Eisenstein, the Russian filmmaker, who is caught in a slightly odd sitting position.) The Josefsberg show features a few such portraits, in particular one of the artist Frida Kahlo, dressed in necklaces and flowing clothes, leaning against a table with a curious glass ball. 

But the strongest pictures in the exhibit are the evocative photographs of Mexican life. Much as Eugene Atget did with his beloved Paris, Alvarez Bravo does, to a degree, with Mexico, observing -- or heightening, depending on your point of view -- its everyday moments and street-corner happenings. "Barber" is a marvelous 1924 print of a man cutting another man's hair on a side street, shade and light and stone surrounding them, chunks of dark hair strewn about. One could imagine this happening nowhere else. 

There are rumors that at age 100 Alvarez Bravo still does some of his own printing. Unlikely, I think. But how inspiring it would be, especially now, when war and the clamor surrounding it have reaffirmed our love of the everyday. 

D.K. Row, The Oregonian's art critic, can be reached at 503-294-7654 or by e-mail at dkrow@news.oregonian.com. 

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