Peter
MacCallum
"Material World" published by yyz books & museum london
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Reviews
Peter MacCallum "Material World" published
by yyz books & museum london
Photographs
Interiors 1986 - 2004
Concrete Industries 1998 - 2004
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Canadian Architect
The National Review of Design aid Practice/
The Journal of Record of the RAIC
Peter MacCallum: Material World
Edited by Rebecca Diederichs. Toronto: YYZ
Books and Museum London, 2004. 160 pages,
$39.95. Review by Andrea Picard.
The idea might not sit so comfortably with Toronto photographer Peter
MacCallum, but a recent monograph of his work makes espe-cially clear
the photographer’s gifted artistry. Though ostensibly a documentary
photogra-pher. MacCallum’s works are rich with narra-tive suggestion,
historical play and the stylistic sophistication of an art-informed
practitioner. Peter MacCallum: Material World catalogues two series:
“Interiors:’ from 1996 to 2004 and “Concrete Industries:’
from 1998 to 2004, project titles suggestive of the artist’s significant
engagement with vernacular archi-tecture. Indeed, when viewing the “Interiors”
photographs of cluttered and claustrophobic Toronto commercial and factory
spaces, one senses a manifest taxonomic impulse, guided by certain formal
conditions inherent in those chosen places. His taxonomy is one of classi-fied
industries like hardware stores and tex-tile outlets, but also of grids
(aisles, shelves, beams, bricks, lockers, windows, drawers, gird-ers,
layers, pipes, and strata)—this modern badge of abstraction, which
MacCallum ably shows us. very much exists in the material world. His
photography achieves a consum-mate intersection between art and social
real-ism, where observation finds voice through carefully composed and
printed photographs born out of empirical appreciation. Mac-Callum,
Rebecca Diederichs tells us in her editor’s note, continues to
develop, process and print all of his work, finding gratification in
the methodical nature of his medium, not unlike the laborious routines
of industry. This medium-sized book does justice to his de-tailed depictions,
with luminous plates con-veying the gradations and tonalities of black
and white and his remarkable depth of field, which in turn, allow us
to see the ceaseless continuation of these material patterns.
Mining the aesthetics of industry. Mac-Callum employs an economy and
literalness dictated, he says, by the material itself: his sub-ject
matter, shifting states of geology threaten-ing to be transformed by
time and the ele-ments, Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, the “Concrete
Industries” photos, with large, im-posing machinery and preserved
ruins appear idyllically pastoral with dappling natural light, and the
“Interiors” are darker in mood despite being more contained
and controlled. Here we find anachronous photos of factory workers—
some captured in frontal, stoic poses, others classically lit—while
performing their arduous tasks. Where the “Concrete Industries”
photos lead us into the detached beauty of Becher territory, “Interiors”
evokes Walker Evans. It is difficult to make out the commentary or even
to decide if the artist is providing one, rather than simply observing
the environmental con-ditions of concrete and tanning industries. It
is this unique ambiguity, which makes Peter Mac-Callum’s work
so intriguing, but not one of the accompanying texts in the book allows
for this potential slippage, arguing instead for his linear, “concrete”
approach. They do, nevertheless, provide some well-written, thoughtful,
and ap-plicable contexts within which MacCallum’s work can and
should be considered.April 2005 |
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AZURE
MATERIAL WORLD
PHOTOGRAPHY BY PETER MAcCALLUM
Peter MacCallum is very much of this concrete world. 1 hat is a great
plea-sure, considering that so many contemporary photographers give
us images that are too often spectacular, fetishistic, and even moralistic.
MacCallum’s photographs — hardware store interiors, concrete
mixing drums, a worker unloading an injection moulding press —
are documen-tary art. In their display of the products and detritus
of our cities, they are saturated with Bruegel-esque intricacy. They
demonstrate a fascination with harsh quotidian beauty and are, above
all else, respectful of their subjects. This book contains photographs
from two series — Interiors. 1986—2004; and Concrete Industries.
1998—2004 — as well as various texts, including an interview
with the artist. Writer Terence Dick refers, in his text, to the ‘grail
of authenticity.’ It is this grail, this labyrinthine mould, that
MacCallum examines and presents.
YYZ BOOKS & MUSEUM LONDON ISBN 0-920397-82-4 |
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The art of falling to pieces
VISUAL ARTS
by Gary Michael Dault
Toronto photographer Peter MacCallum began learning his trade back
in 1969, when he spent a year’s apprentice-ship in a commercial
photography studio. Not long after, you could be-gin spotting his name
in tiny type at the bottom of many of the photo-reproductions in Canadian
art magazines: He was beginning to make his living documenting the work
of other artists. It was a long sojourn in alternate sensibilities —
indeed he still accepts such com-missions — and it no doubt served
to temper and discipline the mak-ing of his own photographic oeuvre.
.MacCallum’s photographs — modest in scale and usually square
(he rarelyprints larger than 38 by 38 centimetres), and almost always
in black and white — are as studiously real and pointed as his
commercial work is, of necessity various. His subject is Toronto’s
retail, industrial and construction history, and espe-cially~ during
the last decade, the documenting of the concrete in-dustry in Ontario.
The trajectory of this now-epic photographic progress has recently been
incarnated in a handsome book called Material World, co-published by
YYZ Books (the pub-lishing wing of Toronto’s YYZ Art-ists’
Outlet) and Museum London, which is currently hosting an ambi-tious
exhibition of the MacCallum photographs.
The book is divided into two sec-tions, with the first part, Interiors
1986-2004, offering a kind of arche-ology of the present— or,
at least, of the very recent past.
Following the lead of documen-tary photographers he admires, such as
Walker Evans and, to some extent, Robert Frank (as well as the almost
unknown Toronto docu-mentary photographer Arthur Goss, whose achievement
— fea-turing photos from 1910 to 1930— he honoured in a
1998 exhibition for the Art Gallery of Ontario), Mac-Callum has assiduously
photo-graphed the teeming clutter of the textile shops on Queen West;
the visual cacophony of the old hard-ware stores; and the sweaty infer-nos
of such buildings as the Nation-al Rubber factory, and the Wickett and
Craig Tannery. (The latter was featured in Michael Ondaatje’s
1987 novel, In the Skin of a Lion, and was finally closed by the city
in 1990.)
Unlike most of MacCallun~s sub-sequent photographs, these factory photos
portray not only the grim, febrile world of industrial process but quite
often show the workers la-bouring in what novelist and Globe
Work Bench, John Garde Co., SpadinaAve., 1994 is one of MacCallum’s
most stunning monographs.
Peter MacCallum’s factory photographs reveal the grim, febrile
world of industrial process and Mail columnist Russell Smith calls,
in one of several essays in-cluded in the book, these “Dicken-sian
environments.” Smith com-ments on the Karchaic.quality to the
factories to which MacCallum had been drawn,” noting that “leather,
rubber, cement — these are dumbly industrial products we continue
to depend on, even in the cybernetic age; they are resistant to digitaliza-tion,”
And so is MacCallum himself~ who is among the most deliberate and exacting
of photographers, carefully making “straight photo-graphs”
(that is, without employing digital correctives or enhance-ments of
any kind) from big nega-tives, which he (naturally) prints himself.
This exquisite care and ele-gant sense of quiet deliberation is everywhere
in evidence, but espe-ciallyso in the photographs making up the second
part of the book: the Concrete Industries photos (1998-2004).
Beginning, as he explains to pho-tographer Blake Fitzpatrick in an interview
in the book, with sites in Toronto “that were related to con-crete
production or use, or recy-cling” and then branching out “to
photographliznestone quarries and cement-powder manufacturing plants,”
MacCallum eventualiy moved beyond the city to docu-ment the province!s
cement plants and quarries, many of which had fallen into disuse and,
thus, disre-pair — and which were, photo-graphically speaking,
little more than ruins.
It is in the documenting of these outcroppings of dead industry in particular,
that MacCallum’s photo-graphs are positioned where histor-ical
research, social history and the pleasures of pure visuality inter-sect.
Absorbed by the interrelation-ship between the industrial and the social
landscape, MacCallum is nevertheless as interested in what makes a photograph
aesthetically good as he is in what makes it his-torically or culturally
important. Crisp, lean, subtly composed and aglow from within, as if
the pearl-escent cement dust that floats through the photographs were
made up of particles of airborne light, MacCallum’s Concrete Indus-tries
photographs are effulgent with radiance —albeit in the serv-ice
of documentary truth.
“I’m not a historian,” he tells Fitz-patrick. “I’man
artist.” A good pho-tograph, he insists, “has to stand for
what can’t be shown, because you can’t show everything unless
you want to show it in a non-artistic way” And I can’t imagine
Peter MacCallum, even at his most archi-vally alert, doing that.
Peter MacCallum’s Material World shows at Museum London to Feb.
27. 421 Ridout Street N., London, Ont., 519-661-0333.
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CONCRETE EVIDENCE - CONCRETE INDUSTRIES
Peter MacCallum
Museum London
Toronto Feb. 27,2005
Peter MacCallum is standing in the Ivey South Gallery at Museum Lon-don
stamping his feet. It’s not a temper tantrum — the soft-spoken
Toron-to photographer is definitely not the type. MacCallum is proving
the im-portance of concrete. “It’s the founda-tion of society!”
he says, his own exu-berance almost surprising himself. “I mean
literally! We’re standing on it!”
We’re here to talk about Concrete Industries, MacCallum’s
exhibit of his trademark pristine black and white photographs, all of
them relat-ed to the very active and, until now, very undocumented concrete
industry in Ontario.
Concrete and MacCallum weren’t al-ways this close. He first became
inter-ested in the subject through a series of photographs he did of
sites in Toronto related to concrete production — the Gardiner
Expressway, London Ma-chinery~ interiors of buildings on Queen Street
West. From there, he started photographing limestone quarries and cement
powder manu-facturing plants. Shots of condomini-um construction followed
and with them, interest in the supply of raw materials. That led him
to quarries, which led to an interest in the history of the plants,
which led him to, well, the middle of nowhere. With camera and tripod
in tow, he was hunting for the first cement plants in the province —
sites that, to the untrained eye, look like piles of abandoned brick.
“Many of them are on the Bruce Trail,” he says, pointing
to stunning images of sites in Limehouse (near Acton), Maribank (near
Napanee) and Point Anne (near Belleville).
“These are forgotten places. They’re some of the earliest
cement plants in Canada,” he says, launching into a detailed explanation
of the cement-making process of the 1890s, the in-vention of the rotary
kiln and the im-portance of the shift from the wet to dry process.
Not only does MacCallum don masks and white work suits, climb into still-hot
kilns, cross corn fields, scale quarries and enter spray booths for
the perfect shot, he also can’t help but become an expert on his
subjects. His encyclopedic knowledge means his images are not only things
of great beauty, but are also extremely learned social, histor-ical
and environmental studies.
Still, a good photograph will always take precedent over the historical
value of a shot. “I still stop at pho-tographing things that won’t
make good photographs,” he says in an in-terview with Blake Fitzpatrick
in Material World, the book published by YYZ Books and Museum London
to coincide with the exhibit.
For Museum London curator Melanie Townsend, MacCallum’s mul-tiple
roles put him between both the traditional and contemporary ap-proaches
to industrial photography. While the former tends to glorify in-dustry
and the latter prefers to vilify it, MacCallum’s photographs do
both. She writes, “[He] successfully situates himself in the middle
by juxtaposing a sequence of oppositions: interiors and exteriors, inhabited
and abandoned, monumental and ruinous, landscapes shaped by manufacturing
and the re-mains of manufacturing reclaimed by the land. The result
is a record of an industry in flux, poignant re-minders of the complex
transactions required to grow and sustain cities.”
For the artist, the result is also all about impulse. “I always
try to show something ubiquitous that is not normally recognized as
being important.” He pauses. “I think I’ll be photographing
industry forev-er.” Julia Dault
Peter MacCallum: Material World is published by YYZ Books and Museum
London and contains photographs not included in the show. Museum London
is located at 421 Rideout St. N., London. 519-661-0333 www.museumlondon.ca |
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PREFIX PHOTO
Number 11, May 2005
www.prefix.ca
PETER MACCALLUM: MATERIAL WORLD
Edited by Rebecca Diederichs
This volume of Peter MacCallum’s black-and-white photographs
offers a sample of his work from two series: Interiors (1986-2004) and
Concrete Industries (1998-2004). The Toronto-based photographer documents
industry, workplaces and workers in images that inform us of the materials
and physical effort that underpin our contemporary lives. Though the
images are contemporary, they resonate of another time and generate
something like longing for an engagement with the actual and tangible
instead of the virtual and disembodied, however messy, smelly and potentially
toxic. With his timeless approach, the photographer reminds us that
modernity is as much a conceit as a fact with an artistry so disciplined
that it serves only to illuminate the subjects and not itself.
Interiors takes the viewer into spaces and processes through a kind
of industrial portraiture notably free of commentary on environmental
or health effects rendered with clear respect both for the work and
workplaces. Those photographs without people are imbued with humanity,
as if the workers have left behind a ghostly trace element of their
labours. That most of these images belong in a narrative series is oddly
evident: the tale of leather tanning at Wickett and Craig Tannery, for
instance, is only partially told in Material World. Nevertheless, they
tell us much.
Concrete Industries narrates the story of concrete processing, portraying
the monu-mental structures created by concrete and the equally monumental
structures required to process cement. Poignant photographs of humbled
ruins of the once-robust lime-processing industry offer a glimpse into
the future awaiting even the most massive of our contemporary constructions.
In his essay “Concrete Concretely,” Terence Dick speculates
that “the complicity of photography in the twentieth century’s
loss of faith has to do more with the prolifer-ation of reproducible
imagery than with the creation of an individual image.” The capacity
of MaCCallum’s work to regain our faith — which it does
brilliantly — may be rooted in the work’s objectivity. It
is not compromised by manipulation of the images, post-exposure, and
neither are we. - LAURIE DAVIS
YYZ BOOKS AND MUSEUM LONDON, 160 PAGES, 109 B+W ILLUSTRATIONS, HARDCOVER,
$39.95 CAD, NOVEMBER 2004 |
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