Studio immerses us in material culture. Preserving Chris Marker’s artistic mystique without descending into fetishism – memorializing him without nostalgia – the book is a moving testament to this most elusive of artists
Read the full review here.
Studio immerses us in material culture. Preserving Chris Marker’s artistic mystique without descending into fetishism – memorializing him without nostalgia – the book is a moving testament to this most elusive of artists
Read the full review here.
Read here.
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Read it here.
Studio, as its title suggests, is an exercise not so much in the remembrance of Chris Marker, but a remembrance, as viewed through the sole essay contributed by cineaste-critic Colin MacCabe to the volume. As much as Marker shunned publicity of any kind during his lifetime (1921-2012, remarking pointedly “My films are enough”), for Studio an array of selected photographs of his Paris workspace by Adam Bartos documents the rest.
Read it here.
Here, in all its ecstatic detail, we are able to take account of a visible manifestation of the artist’s mind, a mind turned inside-out, the components of his practice revealed through the detritus and treasures of our technological culture. In Bartos’s images, we see numerous Apple computers, catalogues from Marker’s 2005 Museum of Modern Art installation “Owls at Noon,” an array of electronic keyboards, a signed photo of Kim Novak, and a 9/11 Commission Report.
Read the essay at BOMB Magazine.
Ben Lerner on photographs of Chris Marker’s studio by Adam Bartos, now collected in a volume with text by Colin MacCabe, in The Paris Review.