Directed by Arlene Nelson, "Naked States" is a documentary centering on the work and work methods of artist Spencer Tunick. Much of the film watches as Tunick travels across the United States in search of volunteers. He points a camera, they pose nude. Some of the resulting photographs involve large, thousand-strong crowds, others are more intimate, featuring but one or two people.
Nelson's documentary dwells on several of Tunick's photographs. Most of these find Tunick forging shapes and structures out of naked crowds, creating living landscapes out of flesh, or clashing human bodies with jagged buildings, social spaces and architecture. Whilst Tunick is often attacked by puritanical folk, his photos are all desexualised. And his characters seem more anonymous, more private, more mysterious than their outer nakedness would suggest; clothes reveal personality, removing clothes oft brings about a certain anonymity.
Tunick's nudes also suggest something beyond class distinctions, beyond social and ethnic barriers. His crowd shots tend to turn naked bodies into undulating seas of skin, whilst his smaller photographs use solitary, nude bodies to evoke very specific emotions. One great photograph, seen toward the end of "Naked States", features an obese woman perched at the ocean's edge, her copious folds of flesh positioned beneath the phallic pistons of the World Trade Centre towers, which loom, almost judgmentally, over her private mysteries.
Today many critics view Tunick as a washed up parody of himself. Like Anne Geddes and her countless photographs of babies/toddlers, Tunick's now become associated with a very specific "gimmick". These days he seems obsessed with photographing increasingly larger nude crowds, often in front of famous big city landmarks. Has his work now been reduced to kitsch? Maybe, maybe not. One would have to sit down and view much more of his work before making such a judgement.
One of the more interesting aspects of "Naked States" is how Tunick's acts of staging photographs are themselves a kind of performance art, independent - and wholly different in terms of mood, intention and content - of the final photo. Elsewhere the film contrasts the vast planning and logistical hurdles required for some of Tunick's shoots, with his soft-spoken, meek personality. He's an unassuming man, but is nevertheless able to command, mobilise and inspire battalions of people.
8/10 – Worth one viewing.
Nelson's documentary dwells on several of Tunick's photographs. Most of these find Tunick forging shapes and structures out of naked crowds, creating living landscapes out of flesh, or clashing human bodies with jagged buildings, social spaces and architecture. Whilst Tunick is often attacked by puritanical folk, his photos are all desexualised. And his characters seem more anonymous, more private, more mysterious than their outer nakedness would suggest; clothes reveal personality, removing clothes oft brings about a certain anonymity.
Tunick's nudes also suggest something beyond class distinctions, beyond social and ethnic barriers. His crowd shots tend to turn naked bodies into undulating seas of skin, whilst his smaller photographs use solitary, nude bodies to evoke very specific emotions. One great photograph, seen toward the end of "Naked States", features an obese woman perched at the ocean's edge, her copious folds of flesh positioned beneath the phallic pistons of the World Trade Centre towers, which loom, almost judgmentally, over her private mysteries.
Today many critics view Tunick as a washed up parody of himself. Like Anne Geddes and her countless photographs of babies/toddlers, Tunick's now become associated with a very specific "gimmick". These days he seems obsessed with photographing increasingly larger nude crowds, often in front of famous big city landmarks. Has his work now been reduced to kitsch? Maybe, maybe not. One would have to sit down and view much more of his work before making such a judgement.
One of the more interesting aspects of "Naked States" is how Tunick's acts of staging photographs are themselves a kind of performance art, independent - and wholly different in terms of mood, intention and content - of the final photo. Elsewhere the film contrasts the vast planning and logistical hurdles required for some of Tunick's shoots, with his soft-spoken, meek personality. He's an unassuming man, but is nevertheless able to command, mobilise and inspire battalions of people.
8/10 – Worth one viewing.