My Top 7 Artist Documentaries
I had my third rodeo with COVID-19 some weeks ago and as a fortunate consequence, I had a lot of time to watch through my watch-list.
Hi all—
It’s been a moment since I’ve sent out a newsletter. I’ve been working on a new episode of my photo books podcast, which should come out next week, so stay tuned for that. In the meantime, I’ve compiled a short list of my favorite artist documentaries. These were found through a culmination of recommendations from friends, Reddit, and general Google/YouTube searches. I'd love to hear if you have any you’d like to share! I’m particularly interested in watching ones documenting and historicizing downtown New York City culture; I’ve added a few club and bar scene documentaries to my watching list.
Maya Lin: A Strong Clear Vision (1994)
I didn’t know much about the architect Lin before watching this documentary, besides the fact that she was a Yale undergrad when her design for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial won in the national open call. The documentary takes this considerable accomplishment and guides you carefully before and after it, leading to Lin’s long career in other monuments and architectural beauties. Some memorable moments from the documentary include learning that Lin started a class with her classmates on memorial architecture before she entered the Vietnam Veterans Memorial design open call, and even so, she didn’t believe her conceptual design would win. You learn about the controversy that surrounded her winning entry, and the rage evoked in specific veteran communities for reasons that seemed misogynistic and covertly racist. Nonetheless, Lin’s intention was received well by most veterans— that the memorial was not a tribute to war but to the veterans and, thus, the sacrifice and suffering involved. Available on Vimeo for a $4.99 rental.
The Melt Goes on Forever: The Art & Times of David Hammons (2022)
I remember seeing this documentary’s poster for a screening at Film Forum this past May, but unfortunately, I missed my opportunity. However, with the film now available on most streaming services, I was excited to see it finally. Before watching it, I knew Hammons’s Bliz-aard Ball Sale (1983) from growing up in the East Village and recognizing the Astor Place buildings in the photographs of the snowball sale and Body Prints (1968–1979) from some art-history course. This enriches the connection I had in my mind of the East Village and Hammons’s work in telling how Hammons took over 10,000 bottle caps from 7B / Horseshoe Bar / Vazacs to construct Higher Goals (1986-1987), telephone poles with basketball hoops at the top, decorated by bottle caps around them. The film includes many more exciting anecdotes demonstrating Hammons’s complete devotion and dedication to creating art that reflected the conditions of the art world and the reality surrounding it. I watched the documentary through Apple TV for a $4.99 rental, but I saw someone posted a complete bootleg (the kind you’d find on a subway platform) on YouTube, which I’d be interested in hearing Hammons’s comments.
Moments Like This Never Last (2020)
When I was 10, my neighbor showed me this Atak graffiti tag in our neighborhood that he said was a big deal. It instilled in me that certain tags are like hidden Banksys (to use an annoying analogy)— in the way that the writers have fame and reputation. They’re known. I was listening to an Angel & Z Radio interview with artist EARSNOT / Kunle Martens when I learned that the IRAK clubhouse (AKA Ryan McGinley’s apartment) was on the same street. It was through watching this documentary that I discovered the clubhouse was the same building. Of course, it made sense that building attracted specific energy, beauty.
It was through my friend Max KI that I learned about Dash Snow. Max is an avid IRAK follower and often puts me on to the crew’s artists’ exhibitions and books. My entry point was not Sacer tags as much as Snow’s language of newspaper collages and the media framing he built around it. The documentary follows Snow through the different stages of his life— family and origins, departure to NYC and IRAK formation, interest in zine culture (featuring an appearance by the late San Francisco photographer and zine-maker Dave Schubert with a gifted zine from Snow), venturing into gallery and art world, love, having a child, and the difficult moments in-between and that came at the end of his life. Since watching, I’ve become more familiar with Snow’s sister Caroline Snow’s gallery, Snow Gallery, in the Lower East Side— their last show, which closed end of July, featured Dash Snow, among other familiar downtown faces like Clayton Patterson & Elsa Rensaa. You can watch the documentary for free on Tubi.
See Know Evil (2018)
I found out about Sorrenti’s work way too late. I’ve seen out-of-print copies of posthumous books like My Beautiful Lyfe (IDEA, 2021), Davide Sorrenti: ArgueSKE 1994-1997 (IDEA, 2020), and Davide Sorrenti: Polaroids, 1994-1997 (IDEA, 2020) around online for a few hundred dollars, and sometimes at Dashwood on the rare occasion. The other day I saw a copy of My Beautiful Lyfe for sale at MAST for $250; flipping through it in person felt the closest way to experience what it might have felt like to meet Sorrenti on the street or as some editor in a magazine office and have him come through with his black book, and flip through his collaged contact sheet cut-ups, drawings, and writings that appear like poetry. The film reminds the viewer that Sorrenti was way ahead of his time and that many of the fashion campaigns we see today mimicked the same aesthetics Sorrenti paid attention to then. The film includes interviews with his family, friends and collaborators, SKE crew members, then girlfriend Jaime King, and the many editors he worked with. You can watch it on Crackle for free.
The Woodmans (2010)
Rewatching this documentary with artist and friend Alice Fall, I was reminded of the panel discussion between Collier Schorr, Moyra Davey, Justine Kurland, and Drew Sawyer at Rizzoli some time ago on the occasion of the Francesca Woodman: The Artist’s Books (MACK, 2023) book launch. I was reminded how the book sought to let Woodman speak for herself instead of art historians and theorists— usually men— talking over her. And while this film features many men, including Woodman’s father, who takes a specific spotlight and turns to photographing women in Francesca’s death, there’s something sincere that seeps through the documentary. In all the interviews shown in the film, a question floats through, “Who tried to understand Francesca? Can anyone else really put their finger on what she did so profoundly?”
In watching the documentary, I learned that Woodman tried getting into the world of fashion photography by assisting with fashion shoot sets, which provided an interesting connection from her work to contemporary fashion photography. As someone suggests in the film, one can look at fashion pictures today and see the traces of Woodman’s interests in the textures and shapes of clothing and bodies. Another important inclusion in the film is Woodman’s short films, with her voice commentating/narrating. While the film may appear to be another simple art historical film on an artist who died too soon, I’d argue that the documentary provides necessary questions for how we should ethically view and understand Woodman’s work today. Alice said, watching, “I can’t believe they’re showing her personal journal writings.” You can watch it on YouTube for free.
Jean-Michel Basquiat: The Radiant Child (2010)
I watched two Basquiat documentaries and thought this was the better one. While the other offered more interview and art-historical dialogue, I enjoyed the personal framing of this film more. Instead of framing Basquiat as larger than life, I thought the focus on archival footage and recordings of the artist allowed him to speak for himself more than relying on others to say who he was and what his work meant. The documentary follows him, and not some idea of who he was supposed to represent.
Protect Me From What I Want (1990)
I was on a Reddit post looking for recommendations when I found this hidden gem of a documentary on artist Jenny Holzer. It follows her at a monumental moment in her career as she prepares her solo exhibition in 1989 at the Guggenheim, using LED panels that spiraled around the railing of the museum. The film concludes with Holzer representing the United States at the Venice Biennale 1990, following her around as she weaves through the press and the city. The documentary, made by Ed Lachman, Charles Guarino, and Christine Williams, provides an intimate portrait of an artist preparing and witnessing her work at critical moments in her artistic career. Watch it in its entirety above.
That’s my list for now. I hope to be in touch soon with other events and happenings coming up. In the meantime, watch for the second episode of photo books, and share this list with any fellow artists or friends you think would appreciate this material. There are lots to discuss within any one of them.
Cheers,
Rainer
These are great picks ❤️❤️❤️