Author: Andrew Throdahl
Last weekend I happened upon some of Angela Evancie's 09 photography exhibit, entitled "Recognition," on view in 51 Main. The show, which opened two weeks ago, consists of portraits of FIC dining hall staff on white backdrops, with captions of name, hometown, and occupation. Initially, the most unfortunate thing about the show was how Evancie seems to speak self-righteously through the frame: I noticed and recognized these people and you didn't. But after reflecting on her presumably unironic portraiture, the fatal offense was how it deprived its subject matter of any genuine humanity. In concept, the show gives the sense that our industrious and cheerful dining hall staff lead incomparably dull lives, and they are finally receiving the grace that no one else has ever stooped to proffer, and yet the viewer never learns one poignant detail about them.
It brought to mind the desperate Gaypril (Gay + April) calendar planted in the library lobby. On it, in some methamphetamine-induced orgy, two waifs kiss in their underwear, and below them, twin-like lads suggestively share an apple, that clich
Notes from the desk Constructive and unconstructive methods of change
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