Continuing on the theme of disgusting women and their fat and fetishized babies, today I came across the work of photographer Gail Albert Halaban. Her stylish photos reminded me of Gregory Crewdson or something else in that sad, post-modern American vein, and they definitely captured a thought that I’ve had before, although I’m not exactly sure what it is. The photos were used to illustrate a New York magazine story, Alone Together, and they captured my attention strongly enough that I knew I needed to know more about this artist.
Then I found her portfolio. The photos showed mostly her contemporaries — youngish moneyed women with a lot of free time and engaging, high-powered, high-paying careers, and maybe, if they’d gotten far enough in the game of Life, matching rich husbands. The first series showed the women at the cusp of their 30th birthdays and the next after they’d become mothers. Wow. If there was any doubt before (and no, I’m not that naive), Alex K. is not alone.
Gail Albert Halaban, Untitled (Salad), 2003
This shot from Mexico City sums up and surpasses the rest of the series. The mother is so prim and perfect, while the baby is as grotesque as any I’ve ever seen. How could she have birthed this monster? Did she even, or did she just charge it to her black American Express card?
In reading about Halaban, it was still hard to tell if the images were candid or staged, or if they were staged if the subjects were “in on it.” Either way, this is definitely reality for a lot of people. And I guess that’s Halaban’s point.
It kind of makes me feel guilty for the relative normality of my own childhood. Now unlike that overfed and unloved baby I never got sent to some fancy prep school and then eventually to Yale and then to the board of some fancy charity, so I don’t feel too bad. (I’m imagining him to be a lot like Christopher Buckley, whose disgustingly adolescent still-smug-at-55 Elle interview I read last night.)
Gail Albert Halaban, Untitled (want), 2005
Now this is one I’d seen before, and while it has its own grotesquerie, it’s also got a sense of humor.
So in a way, the only thing the two shots have in common is that they both make me feel poor.
Post a Comment