Art Out: Susan Lipper - Domesticated Land
©Susan Lipper, Courtesy to Higher Pictures
We all want a moment of solitude in the big city. But the sharp sirens, rickety subway sounds, and hoards of people make it nearly impossible for us to have—even a brief—minute of quiet. At one point or another, even the most adamant New Yorker yearns for a wide-open expanse, wherever they can find it. Susan Lipper’s new exhibit at Higher Pictures gallery, Domesticated Land, which is open from September 17 until October 12, gives us the pause that so many of us are desperately seeking.
Lipper’s pictures transport us West, to the California desert, far away from the white walls of Higher Pictures. Her landscapes are awash with shades of grey, white, and black, punctuated by the small rocks, lone animals, and obscure objects that inhabit the desert. Yes, words are very useful for expressing the essence of California: Joan Didion did so quite eloquently in Notes of a Native Daughter when she waxed poetically about the rivers and trees. However, it’s undeniable that Lipper’s photographs add a nuanced perspective to this conversation; the images actually show us swaths of arid rocks and tiny creatures scuttling across the sand. They make us feel alone and pensive in a way that words cannot approximate.
©Susan Lipper, Courtesy to Higher Pictures
In the exhibit, there’s a photograph of a book. It lays supine on the desert floor, and its crumpled pages sway slightly in the wind. We can’t see what’s in the book: the text is too small, the camera isn’t zoomed in, and the pictures aren’t clear enough for us to discern its content. Perhaps the book piques my interest because I don’t know what it says; it takes me away from my racing thoughts, away from the city that I know and love. So I look at the book, and think, yes. I have found it. That moment. The sound of silence.
You can find Susan Lipper’s work here.
