Review by Michael Shaw in ArtScene

January, 2013
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Dylan Vitone, “Wolfpack” from the series “Yellowstone,” 2011, archival inkjet print, 17 x 70”.
large, geometric forms. This coincided
with her teaching tenure at Los Angeles Valley Arts College, where she
remained until 1994. The repetitive
honeycomb shape appears in various
sizes to simulate the sense that one’s
perception was bending around the
canvas. The evolution of style comes
full circle, as the decade began with
disparate objects that fractured into
space and ended with connected forms
that shift in shade and perspective.
A. Moret
DYLAN VITONE
(dnj Gallery, Santa Monica) Dylan
Vitone’s photographs are panoramic
for more than simply stylistic reasons; they frequently echo the often
ÀVKERZOSURQHVXEMHFWVWKDWKHGRFXments. Whether it’s bodybuilders in
Miami or tourists in Yellowstone,
many of these people have cameras,
and therefore are snapping pictures of
their own. The models or landscapes
or wildlife, in other words, are his subjects’ subjects. Even when no cameras
are present, in his more portrait-leaning
shots, Vitone establishes a mood in
which the main players tend to have
a knowing look about them — very
much ready for their close-ups.
Included here are his 2012 series
“Rutland” and his 2011 series “Yellowstone,” the latter a response to
his “Miami Project” from 2009. The
Pittsburgh-based Vitone did Miami no
favors by capturing several of the most
ingrained stereotypes the rest of the
world harbors towards that beachside
metropolis. Some of the photos’ titles
speak for themselves: “Porn Star On
A Table;” “Bikini Models in a Hall;”
“Male Model Shoot;” and “Drug Bust,”
to name a few. The more benignly titled
“Group Photo” features a bikini-clad
young woman as viewed from behind,
standing beside her friend and taking a
snapshot of a group of men, who may be
famous, in mid-pose. Just beyond this
mise en scène, a few stray beachgoers
observe the shoot, a few other groups
cluster together oblivious, while still
others simply gawk aimlessly at the
beach scene at large. It’s the beach
as social spectacle, one Miami cliché
rendered large.
Though no one in “Group Photo”
appears to have been caught facing
the viewer (Vitone, and then us),
the subject-object dynamic exists
instead within the scene. While Vitone subsequently chose Yellowstone
as a wilderness-like counterpoint to
Miami, there’s actually a through line
in that dynamic, giving the two series
arguably more in common than not.
The bikini models and the bodybuilders of Miami become the buffalo
and the elk of Yellowstone, where a far
greater berth is provided these reluctant
stars, but with no less intensity in the
voyeurism. This is where we should
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panoramic technique. The well-trodden
tool of stitching together a sequence of
several images into one can be found
in everything from real estate interiors
to tourist-luring beach spreads. Vitone
pushes the format quite far, assembling
six to eight photos per image on average, so that you can be looking down
one stretch of road to both the east and
the west in the same image, an affect
which heightens the central area into
an arena, a literal collision of visual
activity. This approach is especially
effective in putting the celebrities of
Yellowstone – the buffalo, the elk, or the
lone bear – even more pronouncedly in
the crosshairs of the tourists’ lenses (the
Miami portraits, by contrast, generally
scatter the focus to a slew of subjects,
both central and secondary).
Even in what would otherwise be
Vitone’s panoramic take on classic
landscape photography, people and/or
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vehicles make slight spatial intrusions
into the frame, not only sullying the
view but also perhaps reminding us
that one’s quest to “get away” is ultimately futile. (Meanwhile, the clearly
visible seam breaks from unmatched
portions of stitching that occasionally
appear in Vitone’s panoramas don’t at
all detract from our illusions; on the
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the imperfections in the larger scope
of each imperfect reality.
Among Vitone’s latest work is
the series “Rutland,” a look inside
the anarchist playground known as
Skatopia, in Rutland, Ohio. With
the gritty landscapes featuring skate
ramps, pipes and pools, ramshackle
houses and mobile homes, and the
skaters, gutter punks and anarchists
that inhabit them, Vitone here inhabits more the role of documentary
photographer. The access granted by
his subjects is somewhat surprisingly
open, considering that the rituals involving overturned, burning cars and
other bouts of endorsed mayhem that
might not be the image that such a
community would want to put out in
the world. But upon revisiting one of
Vitone’s ongoing themes – people who
exhibit a great amount of comfort with
being seen, or who even are actively
seeking attention – the logic quickly
falls into place.
Apart from the innately aesthetic
skate venues, providing Vitone with
urban landscapes set in the midst of
the semi-wild, there are several images in which the subjects engage
with the photographer, rather than
just dot, or blot, the landscape for
scale and/or context. “Roach Motel”
portrays a group of guys and gals with
gutter-punk/anarchist accoutrements
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young man with cut-off jeans, a denim
vest sans shirt and a fedora, directs a
rather steely-eyed glare at us, while the
others direct eye contact amongst each
other. The engagement eschews the
straightforwardness of the bodybuilder
striking a pose in Miami.
In addition to documenting a subculture, Vitone also comes face-to-face with
individuals. The protagonist of “Roach
Motel,” though a willing participant,
also is capable, if inadvertently, of con-
ArtScene
veying a sense of self that’s more complex than simply existing as yet another
poster boy for that subculture. As much
as the group scenes at Skatopia revel in
a celebration of hardcore alterna-culture
– and don’t get me wrong: it’s a fun
ride – when the portrayals hone in on an
individual level, we become pointedly
aware, through our protagonist, of the
ever-so-subtle line between documentation and exploitation. But perhaps that’s
just an inevitable blurring that comes
from how convincingly deep inside this
otherwise-private ecosystem that Vitone
was able to go, a key victory in itself.
Michael Shaw
NED EVANS and
CHARLES CHRISTOPHER HILL
(Gallery 478, San Pedro) Ned
Evans and Charles Christopher Hill
have a lot in common. Born two years
apart (1948 and 1950), they both live
and work in Venice; both earned MFAs
from UC Irvine; and both studied art
with Ed Moses, Billy Al Bengston
and Vija Celmins. Today both artists
exhibit internationally; and both of
them are known for creating colorful
and vigorous geometric abstractions
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But there the similarities end. How
wise of the gallery to install their
respective works side by side. One
step inside the gallery and viewers can
compare and contrast the stark differences among the 38 paintings. While
Ned Evans, “1012VH,” 2012, acrylic on
paper, 11 x 14”.