The Systematic Squalor of Cindy Sherman

(zimbio.com)

Photographer Cindy Sherman is enjoying a major retrospective at MoMA, her first solo exhibition in New York in 15 years.
A darling of the art world, Sherman currently holds the record for the most expensive photo sale, close to $4 million for Untitled #96 in 2011. The occasion of such an extensive career overview offers a rare opportunity for reappraisal of an artist who has enjoyed a largely unchallenged position as a photographic star. It is thus surprising to note the overall anticlimactic effect of the current exhibit. Covering a range of series, from early compact black and white stills to recent massive color photos, the one commonality is the fact of Sherman appearing as her camera's sole subject. That rare exception, the Disasters series from the mid-80s, is by far the least successful gallery in the MoMA show.

Despite the inherent limitation of artifice, it is precisely the most stylized photos of the Black and White Film Still series that are most effective, for it is formalism that is her most distinctive quality. The Centerfold series is most effective when she, the model, is most engaged. The series is devoid of eroticism, despite the title, and actually works best as an approximation of vintage Hollywood stills. The History Portraits are successful at least partly because their resemblance to (or aping of) famous portraits adds a sense of significance to an artist whose work is not always imbued with apparent meaning without the benefit of gallery text.

The Headshot series both shores up her strengths as a master makeup artist and costumer, and reveals the hollowness of her message. These women are either smeared with excessive foundation, or are made to appear to have some sort of skin disease. Whether they are society matrons, farmers, or party girls, the overriding message seems to be the same sense of systematic squalor. Despite her technical skills as a photographer, the contrived self-limitation (not to mention glaring narcissism) of casting only herself in her photos, and the exclusive format of her work as portraiture, means the work largely rises or falls on the strength of her subjects. Alas, as an actor/model, her skills are finite.

Along with the black and white film stills series, the society portraits from 2008 are the most compelling works in the exhibit. The evident singularity of focus inherent in the topic helps convey a sense of emptiness that finally renders the bulk of vulgarity that Sherman has previously championed as thoughtful, intelligible, focused, and unexpectedly affecting. There is a maturity and compassion to both the compositions and her modeling that lends this series a profundity that too much of the exhibit lacks. In sum, her work is simultaneously fascinating and limited.