First there was Beth Reynolds' documentation of Tampa life in heterogeneous form — from the flamenco dancer to the crab fisherman. Then came Suzanne Camp Crosby's more surreal take on the city's character — think headless mannequins in period costume arranged on the veranda of Plant Hall. Next, Rebecca Sexton Larson's pinhole photographs, Steven S. Gregory's digitally altered landscapes and Marion Belanger's haunting interior spaces, devoid of people.
Now the sixth shooter to take up the mantle of photographer laureate for the City of Tampa, Jeremy Chandler, offers his view of the burg's charms and curiosities. Through July 6, 20 of his color photographs (from a portfolio of 35 images in all) are on view at Gallery AIA at the American Institute for Architects offices in downtown Tampa. Like each of his predecessors, Chandler sees Tampa through his own aesthetic 'lens' — in this case, one devoted to portraiture.
Despite the influence on Chandler of a commercial portrait photographer (a friend of the family) when he was growing up in north Florida, his portraits aren't the kind most people would hang on their mantle. A graduate of the University of Florida and the University of South Florida's MFA program (class of 2009), Chandler takes his cue from the lively interest within contemporary art in the psychological depths and formal seductions of portraiture. Drawn to Florida's colorful side (literally and figuratively) and the distinctive personalities who populate it, the photographer functions as an anthropologist whose research often produces a kind of visual poetry.
Chandler's gift lies in his ability to create pictures that stop short of exploiting the cliché of "weird Florida." Take "Hot Dog Lady," a surprisingly dignified portrait of a bikini-clad hot dog vendor — part Tammy Faye Bakker, part Playboy bunny — striking a Birth of Venus-esque pose in front of her car-drawn cart. Nothing could be plainer than the woman's pride at being photographed and the odd normalcy of her entrepreneurship. Ditto "Wrestler 5," which captures an improbably pudgy fighter gazing glumly into the camera but manages to inspire far more empathy than scorn. Truly, it takes all kinds to make a community.
As a group, the portraits may be most remarkable for the seriousness of expressions on the sitters' faces. (One of the portfolio's crowning achievements, "Couple at the Fair," is utterly engrossing for the earnestness of its subjects' demeanor, delightfully out of context against a garish backdrop of fairground tchotchkes.) Likely the effect of Chandler's use of a cumbersome large format camera, that seriousness dramatically distinguishes the photographer's images from the constant snapshotting of daily life. (Just imagine the same couple's day at the fair as documented by cell phone camera and savor the depth of the more formal portrait.)
One shortcoming of the exhibit — and by extension, the portfolio — is that it occasionally touches too lightly and moves on too quickly from its subjects. A single portrait of Gasparilla pirates (members of Ye Mystic Krewe) offers no new insights into that subculture. An image of "Bacchus," the portly celebrant who greets visitors to the Italian Club during Festa Italiana, makes me want to learn more. But maybe that's where Chandler's portraits leave off and the viewer's curiosity picks up — leading to an anthropological excursion of his or her own, perhaps.
Given the relevance of the photographer laureate program to so many Tampa and greater Bay area residents, these photographs should be on display in a more accessible venue. That's not to impugn the hospitality of AIA Tampa Bay, who could hardly be more gracious hosts, but is a conference room (despite its street frontage) really the place for an exhibition of one of the city's most engaging public art programs? Like each of the photographer laureate portfolios, Chandler's images will circulate in city buildings after their debut. Perhaps by the time the next laureate, UF professor Barbara Jo Revelle, takes the stage, the program — a true civic treasure — will get the exhibition venue it deserves.
The new Tampa Museum of Art, now slated to open to the public in early 2010, inches closer toward completion each day on downtown Tampa's riverfront. Close observers will note that the building's distinctive cladding — a double layer of perforated metal sheets offset to create a moiré pattern on the structure's surface — has begun to be installed. Within days, the building's air conditioning system should be active; museum staff may begin to move in as soon as November.
Now that more than the building's skeleton is in place, TMA director Todd Smith leads three or four hardhat tours of the structure each week (one reason why he's looking forward to the imminent addition of air conditioning). At 66,000 sq. ft., the new museum is the right size for the community, Smith explains as we stand in the sky-lighted atrium. (That square footage, roughly on par with the expanded Museum of Fine Arts and the proposed new Dali Museum, which is expected to weigh in at 75,000 sq. ft., seems to be a sweet spot for the region.)
From the atrium, a grand staircase leads up to a 5,200 sq.-ft. gallery for traveling exhibitions and several 1,742 sq.-ft. galleries pegged for the museum's contemporary art, photography and antiquities collections. With 18-foot ceilings draped with white fabric and white concrete floors (neither of which is in place yet), the Stanley Saitowitz-designed space promises visitors a clean, subdued setting ripe for contemplation.
"Some museums want to be loud and boisterous," Smith says, calling the TMA "elegant and precise."
But the new museum wants to be as fun and accessible as it is serious. Along our tour, Smith rattles off some of his favorite features of the new building: its proximity to a boat dock and dog park, both part of the new Thomas Balsley-designed Curtis Hixon Park outside the museum (also under construction); an overhang (the area under the building's cantilevered second floor) where outdoor café seating will be located; and vistas of the Hillsborough River, University of Tampa and downtown skyline. The new TMA will likely offer visitors more flexibility in planning a visit by remaining open into the early evening seven days a week, Smith says.
Announcements regarding the museum's 2010 exhibition schedule and the fate of its café — will TMA, like the Tampa Bay History Center, partner with a beloved local restaurant? — should come later this summer. Earlier this month, the museum announced that Getty curator Seth Pevnick would join the staff as Richard E. Perry curator of Greek and Roman art; thanks to a 1998 gift, the endowed position is immune to city budget cuts, which forced the museum to lay off two full-time staffers earlier this year. TMA will not be hiring a curator of contemporary art, Smith says. Instead, the director himself, whose background encompasses 19th, 20th and 21st century art, will serve in that capacity.
In the meantime, the museum is "feverishly working" to ensure that the best possible works will be showcased at the opening, Smith says. Though TMA isn't planning any purchases of art in advance of its re-opening, the negotiation of artwork loans may help do justice to a couple of the building's dramatic architectural features — an outdoor sculpture 'garden' nestled into a void on the building's west, second-floor façade, and the soaring atrium, where mobile sculpture can be displayed.
The TMA remains open at its interim location in West Tampa through July 11. Now on view: BIT, BYTE, DOT, SPOT: postdigital art.
This article appears in Jun 17-23, 2009.