Rebekah CampbellGrace Hartzel for Odda Magazine (2017)

Hartzel is a fantastic model. (I’ve featured her work with Roe Ethridge previously.)

However–although I definitely dig this image–I’m posting it primarily as a means of correcting something I realize I fucked up a while back; namely: I referred to the gesture in classical oil paintings that was used as a shorthand to indicate the person making the symbol as Jesus.

It occurred to me that the gesture–although based upon anointing parishioners with consecrated oil–is actually also startlingly similar to the configuration commonly used to stimulate the G-spot.

In my cursory research, I noted that the positioning of the fingers was supposed to spell ICXC–which is the ancient Greek abbreviation for Jesus Christ.

Well, I was incorrect. There are two gestures–one associated with Catholics, the other localized to Greek and Eastern Orthodox.

The gesture that Hartzel is making is the Catholic variation–it does not spell out ICXC. (And it is definitely the same gesture most commonly associated with stimulating the G-spot.)

The Orthodox gesture is actually comparable to what the kids these days call The Shocker–or two in the pink, one in the stink.

I vaguely remember reading somewhere that frequently–Xtianity, esp. Catholicism, appropriated it’s symbols from various cults, frequently doing little beyond futzing with their orientation before deploying them. (The essay I’m thinking of mentioned how the upside down cross is actually the original orientation–as it was associated with a decidedly anti-Roman fertility cult; however, Catholicism–being linked with Rome–inverted the symbol to reorient things in line with the Roman context of Christ’s Crucifixion and ‘resurrection’. Thus, the cross in the upright orientation is actually the perverted symbol with regard to the context of its place in ecumenical/liturgical usage.)

Roe EthridgeAmazing Grace feat. Grace Hartzel in collaboration with Fendi for Document Journal (2016)

You can’t dismiss the importance of the author in the case of this image. But it’s hardly the first place I even want to go…

I mean: it’s lovely. Someone should write a dissertation on the skin tone. (Most work with exquisite skin tone accomplishes it by an Albers-esque limiting of the color palate. For example: you frame things in such a way that the color palate is limited to two complimentary colors and you limit the range of those two colors and this allows you to stretch the range of subtle gradation and range within skin tone.

And that’s part of what’s going on here–the fuzzy yellow purse, the blonde wood on the chair and the bleached khaki color of the wooden wind chimes.

It’s the flourishes that separate this work from your run-of-the-mill fashion editorial. Note: the rose gold of Grace’s phone, the azure line reflected in her shades and the green grass pushing up through seams in the concrete underneath the chairs chrome legs.

One could argue that perhaps the concrete goes a touch too green around the gills–but it’s not that bad, really. And the dynamic range in the picture is insane–especially given that the aforementioned trick with good skin tone demands a better range of mid-tones through limiting areas of extreme over and underexposure where this has (I’m guessing) probably a 9 or 10 stop range.

Let’s back track and address the author of this image: Roe Ethridge. The gallery world really likes to bend itself into pretzel shapes to justify the art-worthiness of his work. A lot of it is found or appropriated work that is retooled to a specific conceptual end. A metric shit tonne of ink has been spilled on the topic and everyone is saying the same things poorly.

Too much criticism hinges on a sort of scientific-mathematical proof of a point. I think some of it serves a purpose. Most of it? Not so much.

I get a lot of shit for being a ‘colossal dick’ when I take a particular facet of something I post here to task. Here’s the thing: the sheer fact that I posted something here means that something about it struck me as meritorious. Frequently it’s one thing and I spend ¾ of the post playing whack a mole with the stuff I want to disavow from it, but that’s another story.

My point is–to quote El Duderino: It’s just like my opinion, man. You should take it with a Gibraltar sized boulder of fucking salt. Your mileage will vary, etc., etc.

The only rule is does it blow your hair back? If so, that’s great. And if you’re interested in going a step further, start asking yourself why it blows your hair back? That is all I’m trying to do here. I’m trying to point to concrete correlations whether they are technical bits or free associations from my own experience that enhance the impact of the work.

If you disagree with what I’m saying–I’m not right automatically and you’re not wrong by default either.

Like it’s fine if you adore something that no one else really cares for. But excepting my brother–who is an asshole–it’s fine if you like the musical stylings of Creed. I don’t and were never going to see eye to eye. But generally speaking, I know a lot of people who like Creed personally but do not feel the need to evangelize for them being the greatest thing that happened ever to music.

That’s really one of the only things critics are good for–keeping artists and their fans honest.