Susan Mikula


These pictures, made with such ferocious precision, aren't done until you look at them, until they weave themselves together with your memories, your neighbor's kitchen, your night terrors and daydreams. A woman looks at these pictures and remembers the dream where she finds another room in her apartment. And the next person to see this red/green block and those deep shadows knows that other viewers will have their own responses, just as private and deeply felt.

Excerpted from "Stepping into Memory" by Jill McDonough

Curtis Mitchell


"These works begin as jet black monochromes, a photographic analog to the final step in the march of modernism. They begin as photographs of light. No image has been excluded. 

I have agency, enough to react to this undifferentiated sea, as well as enough to destroy a photograph. And in doing so I can become, and in becoming become something. Or not. What is under my sink is not good for photographs, nor is water. A solution coursing over that monochrome, destroying finality with inflected choice, they leave a distanced objectivity — a photojournalist record of agency — slackened, abstracted, and in living color."

Curtis Mitchell

In these works, too, there is a special ongoing conflict between destruction and creation, rejection and surrender, reality and fiction — the ugly and the beautiful that characterizes the disjointed nature of individualism at this moment in our culture.

Excerpted from Curtis Mitchell's "Photo Events" by Robert Mahoney