Untitled 2009 - 2011

This gelatin silver print, by John Gossage, captures a ramshackle scene. It's about the textures: the corrugated iron of the roof, the gnarly wood of the structure, the way the light catches the ragged edge of that cloth tied to the pole. Everything feels a little worn, a little lived-in, but also very precisely seen. Look at how Gossage plays with light and shadow, how he teases out the details in the gloom of the shed's interior. The whole thing feels very casual, almost off-hand, and yet it’s also incredibly deliberate, like he's inviting us to look closer, to find the beauty in the mundane. The colors are muted, almost monochrome, but there's a warmth there too, a sense of life persisting in the face of decay. It reminds me a little of the New Topographics photographers, those guys who found poetry in the suburban sprawl. But Gossage is doing something different here, something more intimate, more personal. He’s not just documenting a scene, he’s creating a mood, a feeling, a memory.