Art review: Elad Lassry at the David Kordansky Gallery
Rarely is there enough visual information in a photograph by Elad Lassry to quite tell what is going on in the picture. That’s the reverse of what most photographs intend, dedicated as they typically are to delivering data selectively plucked from the quotidian world. Since we live in an engorged image-environment, where we are continuously hectored by photographs that purport to be telling us stuff, the subtle absence disorients.
Lassry’s marvelously peculiar show of a dozen recent photographs and a film at David Kordansky Gallery seems determined to head in a different direction from the photographic norm. He pulls information out of his pictures, draining it away.
Sometimes the method takes a while to see. A purple stripe down the center of what appears to be a publicity still obscures the show-biz image of a female entertainer who, at the margins, appears to be all spangles, ostrich feathers and curly blond hair. Look closely, though, and the stripe has been scratched and flaked, exposing bits of the hidden woman underneath; she becomes a postmodern Gypsy Rose Lee.
Sometimes the method is simple.