James Casebere

The urge to see the artist’s tools is as old as art itself; it reflects a fundamental though perhaps antiquated yearning to catch a glimpse of the magic of creation, the process by which an artist turns everyday materials into a masterpiece. In James Casebere’s exhibition “Scales and Dimensions,” we are afforded that opportunity by the inclusion of Casebere’s rarely shown scale models that serve as the basis for his photography. But rather than excitement, there is an overwhelming feeling of disappointment. Gone is the disturbing patina of the photographs, whose magnificent and haunting glamour could give Wes Anderson a run for his money, and in its place is a set of handmade buildings and boxes containing toy trees. Similar to Laurie Simmons, Casebere exploits the way miniatures can oscillate between representing reality or dreams. Why, then, exhibit the props whose presence roots the photographs firmly in mundane reality?

Exposing the construction of his tableaux provokes a fresh consideration of process, medium, and meaning in a much-needed revision of the ubiquitous psychological readings that cling to the Pictures generation. Besides highlighting Casebere’s deep knowledge of architecture, exhibiting the meticulously crafted models alongside his photographs frees us to consider the breadth of meanings—conceptual and formal—inherent in conceptual photography. One can see, for example, Dan Flavin’s “monument” 1 for V. Tatlin, 1964, embedded and repurposed in Casebere’s Two Bunk Cell, 1998, a visual reminder of the historical layers that produce meaning in Casebere’s unsettling interiors and landscapes. Disappointment, then, becomes grounds for new discoveries.