{"id":16748,"date":"2013-01-29T01:19:37","date_gmt":"2013-01-29T07:19:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/?p=16748"},"modified":"2018-09-06T22:10:17","modified_gmt":"2018-09-07T04:10:17","slug":"relay-shalee-cooper-and-amanda-moore-at-kayo-gallery","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/relay-shalee-cooper-and-amanda-moore-at-kayo-gallery\/","title":{"rendered":"RELAY\u2014Shalee Cooper and Amanda Moore at Kayo Gallery"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Cliff<\/a>

Cliff Dwellers 1 by Amanda Moore<\/p><\/div>\n

Within the matte and frame lies an almost blank, gray rectangle. Recognizing the one contrasting spot\u2014a foot, toes downward, entering at the top-left corner\u2014causes this undifferentiated area to pop into focus: a reach of asphalt or concrete stretching away from the camera, into which open space a woman is just stepping. The title helps: \u201cBest Foot Forward.\u201d Given the inauspiciousness of the enterprise, the ironic intention is clear. The photo humorously suggests that it\u2019s a big world, where even the intrepid can only take a one step at a time. Or maybe it means that in our minds we dramatize actions that can rarely live up to the anticipation. It\u2019s hard to know the exact meaning of a punchline, or how it gives rise to humor. But in photo after photo throughout Relay<\/i>, her two-person show with Amanda Moore at Kayo Gallery, Shalee Cooper combines a gimlet eye with blas\u00e9 commentary to elicit chortles from those not afraid to laugh in the sacred precincts of art.<\/p>\n

One crucial dimension \u00a0of the gaze is distance. How far a viewer stands from the subject does much to shape not only what is seen, but what will be felt about it. For every subject and purpose, then, there is a perfect viewing distance. Amanda Moore photographs the landscape with a particular and precise agenda, which is perhaps best described as capturing a sense of place: specifically, the American West. To do this, she typically lines up a site or subject squarely, in a straightforward and expository fashion. But the resulting clarity is a formula for visual boredom, a threat that she disarms by her exacting feel for distance. Whether her subject is a single building, like in \u2018Drive-in Movies: Dayton, TN,\u2019 or \u2018Fuel Stop: Idaho Falls, ID,\u2019 or a community, like the neighborhood of Birchwood, Tennessee that figures in her \u2018Cliff Dwellers\u2018 series, she must find a point of view that is close enough to single out her subject, yet far enough away to convey a subliminal sense of context or locale. In the case of the Cliff Dwellers, that may have meant putting her equipment in a boat and rowing about on the lake until what she needed appeared in her viewfinder. In some powerful images, like \u2018Pebble Rock Wall: Idaho Falls, ID,\u2018 or \u2018Tidwell\u2019s Fruit Stand: Dayton, TN,\u2019 while the theme remains architectural, she moves in on telling details. But whatever the distance, the effect is the same: her photographs alchemically transform these man-made objects into portrait subjects that come alive and swell up, as if overcome with pride in themselves, and, despite their factual passivity, seem to preen for the camera.<\/p>\n

It should be noted that few people, including a disappointingly small percentage of photographers, fully understand how optics affect the way a camera draws. The subtle variations in distance Moore achieves cannot be made by \u2018zooming in\u2019 or cropping a print. Actual distance is stamped indelibly on the perspective rendered by a negative or digital file, no less than the composition created by its visual elements. Compared to Moore, then, Shalee Cooper\u2019s witty social comments may seem to demand less optical precision on her part. And indeed, the tradition of street photography, as practiced by men like Garry Winogrand and Lee Friedlander, has conditioned viewers to expect a tradeoff between spontaneity and technical polish. But where they sought journalistic or formal results, Cooper\u2019s photos depend on a precise emotional distance: one suitable for communicating the social commentary of a present-day Jane Austen. Had \u2018Paris, 2PM\u2019 included a distant view of the Eiffel Tower, the title would have been superfluous at best. Instead, it provokes speculation about the relationship of the couple who caught Cooper\u2019s eye. The next couple, seen \u2018Pissing in the Wind,\u2019 require a very different distance to maintain the correct emotional perspective.<\/p>\n

So far as I know, no one has ever made a systematic study of artistic friendships. Last year, Kayo showed Sandy Brunvand and Al Denyer. Like them, Shalee Cooper and Amanda Moore have developed a working relationship that includes the decision to exhibit together. Unlike, say, Picasso and Braque during the heyday of Cubism, all four women\u2019s works can readily be told apart, on both stylistic and technical grounds. Yet in the present case, there are shared sympathies, and like a soprano and a counter-tenor, they sometimes cross over into each other\u2019s territory. Tidwell\u2019s sign\u2014\u2018Sold Out\u2019 instead of just Closed\u2014puts Cooper\u2019s punning ambivalence into Moore\u2019s voice, while in \u2018Reaching for the Shot,\u2018 Moore\u2019s self-conscious relation to photography is delivered with Cooper\u2019s slowly-igniting satirical burn. One would like to think they encourage each other, to push boundaries and bring out virtues they may not see in their own work. I recommend staying tuned.<\/p>\n