A labyrinth walk of images make up the “Robert Mapplethorpe: Portraits” exhibition at San Jose Museum of Art. The 103 photographs are mesmerizingly similar in size and shape, all black and white with few melodramatic contrasts; neutral dark or light backgrounds in the same unremarkable frames, mostly straight-on head and upper torso poses with the subject looking directly at the camera. Flatteringly lit, formally composed, these seem at first to be standard glam shots of famous people, but after one familiar face draws the viewer close, the path from photograph to photograph becomes a deepening encounter with the same unveiled regard.
Actors and artists, socialites and sex workers, bankers and bikers: the objects of Mapplethorpe’s portraits were rich, famous or just notorious denizens of the New York art world of the 1970s and ’80s. They were used to the camera—as an extension of their ego, as witness to their performance of themselves. In sittings with Mapplethorpe, however, these performers look out beyond the footlights, as if in a mirror, with recognition, creating a similar response in the viewer.
He was one of them. An Irish Catholic boy from Queens propelled by a relentless quest to create something distinctly his own, Mapplethorpe lived hard on the extreme edge of a world that exalted edginess and extremity. He died from complications of AIDS in 1989 at age 42.
By that time, on book covers, center spreads and billboards, many of his portraits had merged with the history of his subjects: a luminous Susan Sarandon with her daughter looking out with loving trust; a relaxed David Hockney sinking into his own composition; Annie Leibovitz uncomfortable on the other side of a camera; Andy Warhol, his white hands and trademark white fringe both shielding parts of himself. These images were part of the published texture of the decade.
Within the art world, Mapplethorpe was also celebrated for his much more dramatic images of flowers and erotic nudes, works exhibited and published worldwide. Shortly after his death, Mapplethorpe himself became notorious when the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, DC refused to hang the scheduled National Endowment of the Arts-funded “Robert Mapplethorpe: The Perfect Moment” due to the homoerotic and sado-masochistic content of the work. The incident ignited bitter controversy about publicly funded artwork, threatened the existence of the NEA and provoked countless discussions of censorship and the line between pornography and art.
This is not the Mapplethorpe in “Portraits.” Rather, curator Gordon Baldwin states, this is the body of work that is his most lasting legacy. “Robert Mapplethorpe: Portraits” continues at San Jose Museum of Art through June 5. Read more at KUSP.org/exhibitionist.
