Enormous Frozen Spectacles

A Podcast, Considering the Work of

Andreas Gursky

In this podcast I’ll be investigating Andreas Gursky’s photographs which feature enormous crowds. Please refer to the main webpage to view all seven images that are considered. Along with the image, I’ve included a small detail section of each picture so that my viewers may see the specifics revealed in each image.
I will have a short discussion of each image. I will then consider the two ways of experiencing a Gursky image. Finally, I will examine the macro and micro ways of looking at a Gursky photograph.
The formal aspects of Gursky’s crowds engaged in mass spectacle are important to the experience and interpretation of the image. Because the entire photograph is in focus, each person stands out as a distinct unit. But as a whole, the picture gives a sense of collectivity. The large size of the photographs is balanced with the smallness of individual human beings.
Gursky’s purpose of this is not to find out what the crowd is doing, but what their formal qualities as a mass collective are. He isn’t interested in revealing anything but formal qualities.
These photos of clubs and concerts show places where people come together in masses and act in a way that is puzzling to outsiders. They are to a certain extent exclusive masses. The raised viewpoint of the photographer makes issue of the fact that he is also an outsider. His removed perspective indicates that he is not participating.
From 1995 to 2001 Gursky attended raves and concerts in order to capture the collective mass. Most of these photos were taken on May Day. There are five photos in the May Day series. May Day is a celebration of the achievements of the labor movement. But rather than observing the spirit of this holiday these groups attend a Rave.
May Day one through three is a shift away from individual identity towards a depiction of the mass collective. Gursky plays on the uniformity of clothing, color and stance of the crowd. The photographs Union Rave and May Day four depict individual identity within a crowd, a shift away from the uniform collective. The crowd manifests the tension between the power of identifying with a group and the powerlessness of being lost within it.
May Day I, taken in 1997, shows a crowd that is photographed from the back. Gursky chose to frame the crowd under a giant, decorative lighting rig that hangs over them like a holy light. The individuality of the crowd is abstracted under intense blue and red lighting. When examined in detail, it’s difficult to pick out individual people. The crowd in this image is shown as a giant purplish mass who have their attention directed towards an abstracted figure on stage who is washed out in intense white light.
May Day II, photographed in 1998, shows a crowd from the right side. The crowd is awash in gold light, and the intense shadows highlight just the top of the crowd, abstracting them into a mass of heads and pumping fists, like a giant caterpillar. There is no central performer or figure shown in this photograph. The crowd appears as if it’s thriving off of it’s own energy and excitement. The overall effect on the viewer is that of claustrophobia.
In May Day III, photographed in 1998, the crowd is shown from the rear. The colors of the photograph, a uniform yellow, visually unite and bind the bodies of the crowd. If a central figure is shown, their appearance is obstructed by thick clouds of mysterious smoke. Therefore, the crowd is standing and facing something not evident to the viewer.
Union Rave was photographed in 1995. A dense crowd is shown from the viewpoint of someone just above the stage. Arms are raised and most people have their mouths open in excited cheers. There is no uniform lighting to visually connect them. The crowd here is shown as individuals as part of the collective crowd.
The crowd in May Day IV, photographed in 2000, is neither homogenized, nor entirely fragmented. The framing of the image is tighter, and most figures are visible to their waists. This scene shows the individuality of the crowd goers. We may pick out many individuals: see them dancing, totally engrossed in the experience. Again, no central figure is shown, so we as viewers have only their expressions to inform us.The next photograph I will consider is of De Toten Hosen, a German punk band from Düsseldorf. The image, photographed in 2000 and entitled “Tote Hosen,” shows a panoramic view of the concert crowd. The mass of German youths, many wearing the Band’s shirt, a maroon tee shirt with a white bird emblem, are faced toward the left, excitedly cheering and raising their hands. One band member is shown on the very tip of the stage, reaching out to touch a fan. This crowd, awash in a sea of maroon, shows the exclusivity and excitement of being a De Toten Hosen fan.
The last photograph that I will mention is of American pop megastar, Madonna, in concert for her Drowned World Tour in 2001. An enormous space with terraced stands is shown, with Madonna shown tiny on stage in the bottom left. This image is a digital montage of the crowd, but the illusion of this space is mysterious. The crowd is compacted and stacked on top of one another. This seems to be a play on the name “madonna” and the perception that this crowd is all directed at and worshiping this idol who is clearly illuminated on stage.
There are two separate ways to experience Gursky’s work, in person and through reproduction. It is important to make the distinction with respect to Gursky, since the size of his photographs are an integral part of the experience of the viewer.
First, I’ll mention that the width of Gursky’s images range from four to sixteen feet in length. This size creates a sense of awe when seen in person. The majestic size draws us in, and makes objects and subjects of the picture appear touchable. On my website, I've included one gallery view of a viewer standing in front of May Day Four, to illustrate the size of the image. We each may not be privileged to see a Gursky in our lifetime, but it is important to mention that an in-person experience differs greatly from a facsimile.
We as viewers may approach a Gursky photograph from many different levels. I like to refer to this as the “Where’s Waldo” effect: a packed, homogenous scene that is overwhelming to look at, but on closer inspection is filled with individuals that the viewer takes pleasure in inspecting.
Gursky plays up the tension between micro and macro, thereby emphasizing that crowds of people are simultaneously important individuals... and insubstantial faces in a crowd.
Viewing a Gursky image on the macroscopic level, we take in all of the details at once. It’s deceptively easy to look at, until our brains begin picking out individual details to focus on. When we engage with the photograph it has a vaccuum-type quality. It’s hard to withdraw or disengage yourself from these spaces.
Gursky employs the grand power of both the size of the image and the size of the crowd to make viewer feel small.
Viewing a Gursky image on the microscopic level, we take it in piece by piece. Where homogenization once was, small details now appear. The individual disappears and becomes part of the crowd, and it’s up to the viewer to pull the individual out again. We search for what’s going on with the people featured, looking at their facial expressions, clothing and gestures. Meaning ecrus as we search for details, and a narrative is then formed within the viewer.
This push/pull relationship that is formed between macro and micro readings of the images encourage a close reading, but denies us access both to their author and to his conclusion. Nicholas Serota, director of the Tate Gallery states that “an encounter with a Gursky image is unsettling. They lure us in with a promise of understanding something out there in the world.” This is the paradox of Gursky’s work. He employs the camera for sociological study, yet the images do not necessarily inform the viewer, nor do they explain how these social systems work. They are formally beautiful, but how else can they function?
Since Gursky is more concerned with formal elements and also given that his professional training was very formal, it is understandable why he works in this way.
Can we, as viewers hold Gursky accountable for his lack of standpoint? How can he provoke our sentiments, yet hide his feelings behind formalism? I think that this is the beauty of Gursky’s work: he confronts issues in a poetic way. His images reveal themselves to the viewer in an unraveling manner. It’s a complex asserted effort of the part of both the artist and the viewer to inform the work.
When we examine his photographs, there is a certain air of mystery about them. Not because anything is hidden, but because nothing is.