Early mills and factories were built next to rivers or falls
as these supplied the source of water used to create steam pressure to make the
machines run. During the Revolutionary War, Alexander Hamilton passed by the
Great Falls of the Passaic in New Jersey and he never forgot their power and grandeur.
He, however, was not a lover of impressive landscapes; he envisioned the
powerful falls as the source of a model industrial city. A few years later,
after he helped create the Society for Manufacturing Useful Manufactures (1791),
he would start Paterson, New Jersey as a prototype industrial hub. Close to 200
years afterwards, George Tice would have the first solo photography show ever at
the MET Museum based on the images of dereliction and malaise in Paterson, New
Jersey - the falls still grand but now heavily polluted. He felt that the falls
somehow symbolized Paterson itself.
George Tice {{{George Tice -Lifework - Exhibitions - Joseph Bellows Gallery}}} is one of the most significant American photographers of the post-World War II era. One reason he is not well-known among the general public is that he did not try to hit the viewer of his photos over the head with moral judgments or admonitions, yet he revealed significant truths about American urban society in a subtle and novel way by seeing something significant in the common place which others missed. If you think of some of the most popular urban photographers before our contemporary era, you might think of Robert Frank or Lewis Hine, who had clear social agendas and who helped bring about necessary change. Tice is not this type of urban documentarian.
His photos are not about abject poverty, exploitation or conspicuous injustice. If some of his work is about suffering, it is about the suffering and neglect which has traditionally seemed bearable and acceptable to most Americans, even the ones undergoing the suffering. You might look at his photos of aspects of cities in New Jersey and say, “So what? Things look OK there. Why did he bother to take this photo?” But his photos require reflection and discernment. He sometimes photographs the stages on which people in survival mode act out their lives. A deeper, more poignant suffering is alluded to. At his best, Tice invites you to imagine the lives that pass through or used to pass through the places he captures and in this way invites a human connection that crosses social and economic boundaries and even gaps in time. He uses the viewer’s own imagination to engage the viewer in a humane process of recognition. His best photos invite narratives of compassionate awareness and do not proselytize.
Tice
realized that the passage of time, starting when a photo was taken, aided in
the meaning of his photos. It made the commonplace more salient, more suitable
for inspection. Tice said, “It takes the passage of time before an image of a
commonplace subject can be assessed. The great difficulty of what I attempt is
seeing beyond the moment; the everydayness of life gets in the way of the
eternal”.
There is a beauty of abandonment in Tice’s photos, with the realization that we may be stuck in a new commonplace which we may not even recognize or comprehend and will only be fully aware of after it is gone. As Tice said, things will disappear but the photograph will last. What is really eternal for us are our memories and photos act as surrogates for our memories. In Tice’s photos we see the impact of the abandoned commonplace and the hope for more meaningful change in the now, although we will only recognize much of the changes later.
Another reason why Tice is not as famous as he should be is that he did not produce any really iconic images which have reached a wider public. He merely produced a whole body of excellent and incisive work. His most famous photo may be Petit’s Mobil Station in Cherry Hill New Jersey (1974). One sees the massive water tower in shade, as if dormant, while the lone station is illuminated in a barren area of nature, like a beacon for late night drivers. Tice was influenced by the paintings of Edward Hopper and this could be considered Tice’s Nighthawks. Tice shows his concern for the man-made structures that support our lives. They seem permanent to us, and are a contrast to our fleeting lives, but through the art of photography these structures are also shown to be, ultimately, ephemeral and makeshift.
In Car for Sale from the city of Paterson, New Jersey (1969) we see an extemporized concrete incline winding past the front of a three story house. A car is oddly parked on the incline with a hand-written “For Sale” sign in its back window. This is a good example of how Tice invites the viewer to create his/her own narratives. How dire is the car seller’s situation? Why not just take the car in to a dealer? Why such an odd incline in front of perfectly constructed housing? In White Castle, Route #1 from Rahway, New Jersey, we see another tip of the hat to Hopper’s Nighthawks, but only the exterior of the building is illuminated against the night. One gets a sense of great effort to illuminate this mock fortress-like structure, as if there is great seriousness in the illumination, a desperate need to beckon to passing consumers.
Industrial Landscape
from Kearny, New Jersey (1973) shows how industry is embedded in but divorced
from nature at the same time. We see the mechanisms for the reorganization of
nature to meet the needs and desires of vast populations. Wires dominate the
image as both energy transmission and communication were essential elements in
the construction of this facility. Yet, nature seems to be reclaiming this area
as we see some type of vegetation crossing our field of vision and over-running
the railroad tracks. This photo does not mean that we have suddenly attained a
sustainable relationship with nature and the unsustainable has been abandoned;
it means a more effective way of exploiting the natural world to meet our needs
and desires has been developed.
Tenement Rooftops
from Hoboken, New Jersey (1974) shows how simple people improvise and cooperate
in the drying of their laundry. Jimmy’s
Bar and Grill from Newark (1973) reveals a neighborhood eating place for
the working class family or family man; the type of place which died out with
the death of the working class in the USA. One can imagine the small families
piling out of dad’s car to get a bite to eat on a weekend or the working guys
dropping by for a couple drinks before going home. Hudson’s Fish Market from
Atlantic City (1973) shows how the small business establishments literally
seemed to grow out of every day residential structures, as they emerged from
the community itself to cater to the community only to be replaced by corporate
business interests.
In Philadelphia they have preserved the very first modern
prison (penitentiary) which was built in the early 1800s. It is now a museum
for people to wander through and feel shock and revulsion over the disgusting conditions.
The shock and revulsion does not, however, lead one to begin thinking, “Thank
goodness prisons are gone! Thank goodness we rose as a society and learned to
replace deterrence and punishment with a type of humane engagement and economic
reform that eliminated crime.” Instead we leave Eastern State Penitentiary realizing
that prisons and the “needs” that cause them are fully established in our social
fabric. I believe this type of social awareness is similar to what Tice was
shooting for in much of his work. He dug a bit deeper than other social
photographers and ultimately asked to what extent our observable circumstances
were demonstrating real progress.
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