Fans of illustrious artists are in for a treat at the Hayward Gallery. In Hiroshi Sugimoto's inspiring 50 years within the industry, this London exhibition is officially the largest showcase of his work to date; and it has most certainly not disappointed.
Born and schooled in Tokyo, Sugimoto originally completed his degree in finance. After moving to California and later New York, his interest in black and white film led him to pursue and later master the large format camera. In a guided tour with Assistant Curator Thomas Sutton, we learn that Sugimoto himself attended the gallery in-person to curate this exhibition. With his past and present works within the realms of architecture, it is surely not a coincidence how beautifully the interior of the Hayward compliments his pieces. Delicate lighting dimly illuminates each of the prints, creating a remarkable visual warmth which softens the brutalist features of the upper and lower galleries. The exhibition itself also takes advantage of the Hayward’s unique layout; you enter to a beautiful open space, a delicate mixture of traditionally blank walls and brutalist inclined planes. The image collections, in linear succession, whisper the narrative of Sugimoto’s personal and artistic development.
Immediately, visitors greeted with the first collection; “Dioramas”. This, which also begins the carefully told narrative one experiences walking through the space, is a collection of scenes taken of exhibits of extinct animals from within the American Natural History Museum. For this project, Sugimoto stages his camera within the museum and photographs the still scenes of the creatures. In doing so, he instils a bizarre sense of life to the motionless tableaus. Certainly at first glance, one unfamiliar with his methods would wonder how on earth an image depicting human life from ~2 million years ago was, in fact, an image, and not a painting. Thomas notes that by arranging the images on single sides of the spaces, the environment becomes much more balanced. It allows time for the viewer to appreciate and really experience the sheer amount of detailing each individual image.
Concept aside, Sugimoto’s concision alone is something absolutely bewildering. Many Japanese creatives, particularly photographers, have popularised the idea of perfection within imperfection. Daido Moriyama for example has built a lot of his portfolio on the traditional Japanese aesthetic of ‘Wabi-Sabi’; his images a result of simply walking outside with a camera and capturing whatever presents itself. Sugimoto by contrast is exceedingly calculated in his shots, more alike to Western photographers around his time. Perhaps we can attribute the James Casabere or David Bailey-esque style to his time spent in the USA.
Something particularly captivating about this exhibition is the use of conceptual juxtaposition, flitting between portrait and landscape, natural and artificial, and stillness and motion. Where “Dioramas” contextualises a still scene into potential motion, the proceeding collection, “Theatres”, captures an entire motion picture in a single moment. For one of his now most renowned works, Sugimoto sat at the back of the theatre, opening the shutter at the beginning, and closing it at the end of a film. The resulting images, which in this gallery are mounted atop a dimly lit lightbox, emit an incredible mellow warmth.
For the latter half of the project, “Abandoned Theatres”, the isolated glow within a once bustling space brings an eerie aura; had the entire exhibition been solely these two projects, it would have undoubtedly been met with a similar praise. The theatrics continue in the descent into the lower gallery. Employing a similar technique to that of “Dioramas”, life-like portraits of famous figures, which are actually photographed Madame Tussauds’ wax figures, span a smaller and cosier space. A neighbouring gallery presents another selection of portraits; interchanging crisp detail for a hazy blur, this gallery is a wash of architectural structures.
The iconic shapes of the Eiffel Tower, Chrysler Building and World Trade Centre can be made out amongst the abstraction: his unique venture into capturing physical structures is unlike many others. To both the trained and the untrained eye, it is certainly not difficult to notice the sheer perfection of his image composition. This is without a doubt someone who has completely mastered his craft. So, what’s next?
Sculpture. It is at this point in the exhibition where you begin to question if there is anything he can’t do. As part of the Treasure Island Arts Programme, a 69-foot-tall stainless-steel structure named “Point of Infinity" sits on a Yerba Buena Island hilltop in San Francisco. Back in London, a smaller version sits proudly next to another twisted metal structure in the middle of another adjacent gallery. “Conceptual Forms” comprises of a collection of close-up images of similarly impressive objects, all forms of the annotated mathematical formulae. The dents and cracks nod towards the beauty of objects worn down by consistent love and use; “Art resides even in things with no artistic intentions”, from Sugimoto’s commentary on the project, could reflect not only this but his artistic outlook as a whole.
Before ascending, it’s worth venturing down the central staircase for just a moment; as a continuation of his “Portraits” collection of images of wax figures. Thomas notes that the room wasn’t originally a gallery but rather a staff space, but Sugimoto wished for it to be used this time.Inside holds the resultant of Sugimoto’s morbid fascination of humanity’s very worst. We’ll let you see that one for yourself.
Having climbed to the upper level, in a brief yet stunning collection, we see the first results ofSugimoto’s darkroom experiments. Once again, the narrative flickers towards artificial nature, and the power balance shifts back into Sugimoto’s adept hand.
“Lightning Fields”, created by applying a bolt of electrical charge directly onto the film, creates a pattern much alike to a lightning bolt. The prints echo a humanistic quality; you could easily alike them to anX-ray image of nerve endings, or perhaps even tree roots. After passing “Lightning Fields”, the exhibition opens up to a flood of natural light. “Seascapes”, one of Sugimoto’s most famed collections, has been ongoing for more than 4decades. Arranged in a C-shaped formation atop of the first floor of the gallery, the black and white prints hang in uniform around a single side of the space.
An almost fully black print with a barely distinguishable horizon occupies the first frame; followed by another print with the sun peeking just above the equally calm waters: “The sea is eternally unchanged”.
Having left the metaphorical and physical darkroom of Sugimoto’s mind, we gain insight into his philosophies. The prints gradually a denote a clock formation, illustrating the passing of a day over waters captured everywhere from the English Channel to The Caribbean Sea. In the centre of the gallery sits a smaller room, fashioned in a way which could be mistaken as a shrine, with near identical prints of a group of Buddhas. Consecutive prints on either side lead to a colossal portrait on the far back wall.
Sugimoto has expressed that he feels no need to explore digital imagery. He feels that that he has truly mastered the large format camera, and he feels like that’s “his thing”. Exploring the exhibition and his wider portfolio, every time you began to think “but he hasn’t tried-”, you’d turn a corner or climb a floor to see that he’d given it a go; and it would be brilliant. Therefore, it almost makes sense that the final image collection would involve a splattering of colour.Experimenting with the prism within his New York studio, realised this time on a square polaroid format, Sugimoto steps slightly outside of his comfort zone.
Equally as bright as the gallery displaying “Seascapes”, having spent so much time in a monotone space, the pop of colour is like a visual dessert. Squares of solid colour and gradients line each wall of a large, square gallery. Black-to-green and black-to yellow gradients are also reminiscent of “Seascapes”, where the solid colour prints glisten with a jelly-like gloss. Thomas adds that Sugimoto considered these experimentations with colour a personal revelation; he saw it as a chemical process, and he came to love the sheer intensity of the prints. That intensity most definitely reaches the viewer and ties off the exhibition beautifully.
The exhibition, which has been suitably referred to as an ‘experience’ at times in this article until now, most certainly did not disappoint. Thomas Sutton, Assistant Curator for the Hayward, was also an absolute cornucopia of knowledge, bringing such an engaging insight to the space.
It will certainly be difficult to imagine any other creative flattering the Hayward’s galleries as magnificently as Sugimoto has: whilst the phrase “they were made for each other” can be a little cliché, there isn’t a better way to put it.
Hiroshi Sugimoto's work can be seen at the Hayward Gallery until the 7th of December. More information can be found here.
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