A camera cornucopia in the seaport; drawers, but not drawings, at Brookline


A photograph shows a reproduction of the ‘Mona Lisa’ on a lime curd wall above a set of empty tables and chairs. The title of Yorgos Efthymiadis gives the explanation: “Mona Pizza”. Perhaps the pizzeria’s slogan is “A smile with every slice”.

Mona Miri, “Salem Power Plant”, 2001Mona Miri

A massive, mighty structure with three chimneys looks familiar to North Shore. So it’s. The title of Mona Miri’s photograph is “Salem Power Plant”. Water fills the foreground of the image, and this deliquescent element recurs in various ways throughout “Your Work Here”: on the beach (R . Lee Post), in the bathtub (the “Lenoir R 05-30-21 — 01 AB”), in a swimming pool (Liz Albert and Shane VanOosterhout “What You Count on Happening . . . Probably Will”), offering supporting (Michael Corthell “Leaves on Water”), or refracting (the “Red” by Ann Prochilo).

Richard Frankosky, “Bukowski Electric Bouquet”, 2022Richard Frankosky

Unexpected objects can stand out. Richard Frankosky’s “Bukowski Selectric Bouquet” humorously combines obsolete technology (remember IBM Selectric typewriters?) with still life tradition and a nod to a certain tough life. cult figure in literature. The oddly juxtaposed apple and ball in Joe Greene’s “Homage to Papa Flash #1” offer a different kind of homage, to Harold “Doc” Edgerton. Stefanie Klavens continues her wondrous exploration of film exhibition with “Projection Booth,” in which a film reel is as fittingly front and center as a monarch’s throne.

Joetta Maue, “Tears and Stains”, 2022Joetta Maue

Sometimes a photograph catches the eye because it doesn’t look like a photograph. This is the case with “Tears & Stains” by Joetta Maue. It has the added bonus of being a contender for the most poetic title. The image has the delicacy and painterly character of a watercolor – and a very good one.

Joni Lohr, “Open Doors”, 2022Joni Lohr

A photograph stops time. Decay is the inexorability of time made visible. There is therefore a fascinating tension in three very different visions of decomposition: Gary Duehr’s “Skull in Armchair” (certainly not an armchair), Mitch Eckert’s “Still Life With 3 Plastic Peaches” (which, yes, although the fruit is artificial, are visibly rotten), and the peeling wallpaper of “Open Doors” by Joni Lohr, nevertheless haunting and seductive.

This is only 14 of 63 photographs. Who knows which ones will catch your eye. It might be worth going to the seaport to find out. The CRP will host a WELCOME at the gallery in honor of the exhibition on December 9, from 6 to 7 p.m. The event is free and open to the public.

One of the “Your Work Here” photographers is Jessica Burco, the creative director of the PRC. She has her own exhibition at the Beacon Street Gallery at the Brookline Arts Center. “Fractured & Found” runs until January 15.

The exhibition is a little pell-mell, which is intended. Burko picked up abandoned wooden drawers as trash. A dozen color photographs, 16 inches by 20 inches, document the pre-saved condition of the drawers.

Installation view of “Fractured & Found”.Jessica Burco

Some of the drawers are just that, drawers: five-sided empty wooden rectangles. There is something very appealing in the sheer substantiality of their thing – the thing, not the solidity, since a drawer’s function is due to it being an enclosed void.

You start to notice differences between the drawers: size, fancy, degree of distress; whether they carry handles, knobs or pulls. The most important difference is the fact of Burko. Some of them have black and white photographs, transferred to encaustic, at the bottom. The images are quite striking: self-portraits (a bit off-putting à la Francis Bacon), a foot here, a hand there, fish, a pair of gaping mouths.

The self-portraits are the most important, but the mouths can be more important. Everything in a frame – photograph, painting, print – is enclosed. The fence is a form of protection. The dimensionality emphasized by Burko putting the images at the bottom of the drawers reminds us that they are not only closed but also confined. The mouths underline this: teeth and tongue confined in the mouth, mouth confined in the face, face confined in the drawer. Pull a pull, button, or handle as much as you want, but there’s no getting out.


At the Fort Point Arts Community Gallery, 300 Summer St., until December 18. 617-975-0600, www.prcboston.org


At the Brookline Arts Center Beacon Street Gallery, 1351 Beacon St., Brookline, through January 15. 617-566-5715, www.brooklineartscenter.com/beacon

Mark Feeney can be contacted at [email protected]


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