Photography at the New York Historical Society

We went to a preview recently of two new photography exhibits at the NYHS. Both have value; both have flaws that make them less than they could be. The first is of designated historical landmark buildings in NYC. The photographs, nearly a hundred, are in black and white, by mostly unknown photographers. Just the act of grouping together photos of such landmarks is a great informative service and the NYHS is apparently only the latest on a world tour of the exhibition, bringing the best of NYC architecture to sometimes surprisingly remote places around the globe (Pietermaritzberg, South Africa for one). But the photos themselves often do not do justice to the real buildings and the stenciled wall description of the project mostly describes the bumpy life of the Historical Preservation Act, rather than add any depth to the exhibit. It is about as mis-aimed as any exhibition commentary I have ever seen. By contrast, though, the individual accompanying texts at each photograph do a wonderful job of describing the building, its location and its history.

The second is a series of photos taken over 30 years in Harlem by the photographer Jose Vergara. It received a rave review in today's NYT. My enthusiasm is more muted. The idea of photographing the same location over a period of time is hardly new (see the fine film Smoke, for example), but Vergara's photos in that style mark Harlem's changes well. You see decline, dereliction, abandonment and rebirth, sometimes all, sometimes stopping at dereliction or abandonment. My problem is with the texts more than the pictures. They and the accompanying quotes from Vergara seem to me to mourn the loss of much of Harlem's rundown storefronts to national chains. That's wrong, I think. The point is the ongoing second Harlem Renaissance and while a more indigenous flavor would be a a excellent thing, the tragedy is not box stores, but the long deterioration that preceded them. At times the exhibition's commentary almost apotheosizes that decline. In fact, Harlem and the city are much better off rid of much of what Vergara has photographed over the last 30 years. So see the photos, ignore the commentary. My personal favorite -- the wall or store front painting of a drug dealer descending from Heaven on his motorcycle. The halo is a particularly nice touch.