Ilse Bing (American, born Germany. 1899-1998)
Self-Portrait in Mirrors, 1931
Gelatin silver print, 10 1/2 x 12" (26.8 x 30.8 cm)
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Joseph G. Mayer Fund
© 2010 The Ilse Bing Estate / Courtesy Edwynn Houk Gallery

Perhaps it was spring cleaning that lead the Museum of Modern Art to throw its entire photographic collection into a pile and excavate “Pictures by Women: A History of Modern Photography.” Still, curators Roxana Marcoci, Sarah Meister, and Eva Respini, pulled it off.

The show, which occupies all 5 rooms of the Edward Steichen gallery, features over 200 photographs by 150 female photographers. (Overwhelmed? Oh, fear not the preferred methods of the MoMA where to stuff the guests’ eye sockets full of dizzying validation is only a sign of prestige. Referring to a most enormous Lee Frieldander retrospective, Philip Gefter once quoted head MoMA photo curator Peter Galassi who said, “‘You know, if you're measuring in square inches, then this show is a lot smaller than the Pollock show.’”)

But, there is a path to “Pictures by Women”, a chronological path. It begins with some very early work, including a mid-18th century cyanotype to which a visitor, baffled, responded, “Whoa, dude, how do you do that?” The answer is fascinating, simple, and worthy of learning: paint two light-sensitive chemicals on one receptive surface—such as water-color paper; place the negative—or in this case, object—on top of the paper, and lay it out in the sun, all day long.

This particular cyanotype—featuring four leaves strung together in a fashion similar to our modern-day birthday balloon—was made by Anna Atkins, a woman significant to both her gender and her medium. Although she did not invent the cyanotype (that was the job of the English scientist Sir John Herschel) Atkins did carry the process over into photography with her series of cyanotypes documenting plant life. Consequently, Atkins bore her title as the first female photographer.

Thought Interlude: the title of the exhibition--"Pictures by Women: A History of Modern Photography" seems fairly strange; "A History of Modern Photography" is inherintly reduntant, as all photography is modern. This is simply "A History of Photography." But, syntax aside, a friend and art dealer recently reminded me how important this show is to the MoMA’s history: “at least they did it,” she said, as Modern Art has always been a male-dominated industry.

The second gallery is guarded with classics, from Bernice Abbott’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman to Imogen Cunningham’s Martha Graham to Ilse Bing’s Self-portrait in Mirrors (one version of it, anyway).  

Ilse Bing was a sharp mind and an even sharper printer. A native of Germany, but a product of the early avant-garde art scene in Paris, Bing was far ahead of her time. At one point, she was the only photographer smart enough to figure out an advanced Leica camera.

The importance of Ilse Bing’s legacy comes from her art, but also her concept; Bing created a “new vision” for modern photographers through all three eyes of Self-Portrait in Mirrors; the leica lens, her own eye, and one square mirror separated by the relative width of a nose.

Bing continually reproduced this image throughout her life, with other versions capturing her reflection cut up into two mirrors or Bing as an older woman.

The third gallery is almost all black and white, except for a small splash of color on the left belonging to Helen Levitt. Instead of illuminating the room as they always do, Ms. Levitt’s prints seem to highlight—in terrible neon—a lack of flow. However, one might note that finally, the term “juxtaposition” need not be relevant.

Thought Interlude: moving through the exhibition, one can note the progression of time as a steady improvement in technology. One also notes a decline in fantasy, creativity, even vision. It’s not worse, just different.  

The fourth room presents an array of black and white prints, including a handful of portraits by Diane Arbus. In fact, most of the photographs present in this exhibition are portraits, almost all of them. This room was well set up, a good preparation for the next room, a true health hazard.

As you enter the final frontier, you will find you need a spaceship, or light deflector. If you’re a Quaker, you might try a drink; this is no gift of simplicity. The room features collages, posters, lithography, typography, cut and pasted printed paper woven through the proper Nan Goldins, Cindy Shermans, and for the record, one Sally Mann. It is a political room, too, welcomed by Hannah Wilke’s Marxism and Art: Beware of Fascist Feminism, and haunted by the ghost of Francesca Woodman, whose work is not present in this exhibition.

But, like a good thanksgiving meal, what leaves you stuffed will not leave you starved.