1/28/2009
A Kind of Lostness: Alec Soth's "The Last Days of W."
Now that the era of George Bush's toxic presidency is happily behind us and the country is focused resolutely on the future, it's interesting to pause for a moment and look back at a few quietly arresting images from the last few years of American life.
Alec Soth's recent, limited-edition portfolio, "The Last Days of W." is a beguiling snapshot of a freshly-bygone era. The subject is well-served by Soth's technical hallmarks: wan, washed-out colors; sparse compositions; anonymous, quotidian subject matter. Few of the photos depict anything explicitly topical, although many feature military personnel, and one droll image depicts a pinata in the shape of Osama bin Laden against a white-washed brick wall. Yet in this series, Soth has deftly captured something elusive and intangible: a collective national melancholy engendered by vast public neglect, a creeping vacancy in the fabric of modern life. But there's something deeper and more touching in Soth's photos of empty municipal spaces, tatty religious trinkets, and deserted suburban landscapes: a quietly palpable yearning for real meaning among the ruins.
Looking through the photos, I was reminded of a 1996 interview David Foster Wallace gave to the online magazine Salon, in which he described what it was like to be an American at the end of the 20th century:
“It’s more like a stomach-level sadness,” he said. “I see it in myself and my friends in different ways. It manifests itself as a kind of lostness.”
The title of Soth's book is from the final line of a poem by Lester B. Morrison, included in the collection.
Whether dawn or dusk,
Don Knotts or the deputy,
There is nothing left but gas
You’ve exhausted
You’ve laughed your head off
Wrapped it in black burlap
And bounced on the branch
Till sticky with candy and mâché.
Now the ranch is quiet,
Brush cleared,
Fields burnt,
Almost bored.
These are the last days of W.
View the entire series here: http://www.alecsoth.com/lastdays/pages/frameset.html
