new-york

Uta Barth

Tanya Bonakdar Gallery

In that never-never land between the sensuous purr of painting and the chilly idiom of photography, Uta Barth makes ethereal pictures (in fact photos) that delicately resist being arrested by the pictorial condition, yet somehow remain unrepentantly picturesque. Her perfectly blurred, cloyingly out-of-focus images obscure, yet politely demur from obliterating, an external referent. Her works offer only an oblique set of visual clues, identification of the essentially banal subject matter—which ranges from empty to almost empty interiors to specific domestic objects—is only momentarily suspended. What remains obscure is how the artist arrives at these panel-mounted Ektacolor prints: are these records of existing places, “documents” of specially constructed spaces, or did Barth lift pictures from various sources and then subject them to the now requisite ritual of rephotography? Do computers

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