Paul Strand: Modernist Photographer

By Jonathan Shih

Paul Strand, born in 1890 in New York City, is recognized as a pioneering figure in modernist photography and documentary filmmaking. His career, which began in the early 20th century under the influence of Alfred Stieglitz and the Photo-Secession movement, shifted photography towards a new artistic seriousness. Strand's early works, such as Wall Street (1915), demonstrated his mastery of composition and abstraction, helping to establish photography as a legitimate art form. Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, he expanded his vision internationally, producing profound photographic studies and socially conscious films, including collaborations with renowned figures like Charles Sheeler and Pare Lorentz.

By 1972, when Martine Franck photographed him, Paul Strand was living in France, having relocated permanently in 1950 due to the political climate of the McCarthy era in the United States. Martine Franck, a talented Belgian documentary photographer and later a member of Magnum Photos, captured Strand during the final years of his life. At this time, he was revered as a foundational artist whose work seamlessly blended aesthetics with humanistic concerns. Despite health challenges, Strand remained active in curating his vast archive and overseeing the publication of key works like Paul Strand: A Retrospective Monograph (1971). Franck’s sensitive portrait of Strand reflects the quiet dignity and unwavering vision of an artist who had profoundly shaped the language of photography for over six decades.

Strand passed away in 1976, just a few years after Franck's portrait session, leaving behind an extraordinary legacy that spanned continents and generations. His influence on documentary and fine art photography remains unparalleled, with major institutions continuously exhibiting his work and scholars studying his impact on visual culture. Today, Martine Franck’s 1972 portrait of Paul Strand stands as a vital document, offering a rare and intimate glimpse into the later life of a man whose vision of photography as both an art and a tool for social change continues to inspire photographers and historians around the world.

The Louvre Pyramid by I.M. Pei

By Jonathan Shih 

In 1989, architect I.M. Pei stood before one of his most iconic creations, the Louvre Pyramid in Paris. This glass and metal pyramid, completed that same year, serves as the main entrance to the Louvre Museum and sparked public debate for its modernist contrast with the classic French Renaissance style of the Louvre. The pyramid enhances the museum’s accessibility and circulation, integrating natural light that illuminates the underground lobby and galleries. Composed of 673 glass panes, it exemplifies Pei's skill in blending historical and contemporary architectural styles, showcasing his mastery of form and light.

Japanese Avant-Garde Pioneers

 By Jonathan Shih

The Revolution Was Visual. From bondage photography to surreal theatre posters, the '60s in Japan were bold, wild and unapologetic. This isn’t history. This is art on fire. 🔥 Japanese Avant-Garde Pioneers.

Isamu Noguchi: Between East and West

By Jonathan Shih

Isamu Noguchi (1904–1988), one of the most significant sculptors of the 20th century, bridged the gap between Eastern and Western artistic traditions throughout his six-decade career. Born in Los Angeles to an American mother and a Japanese father, Noguchi’s multicultural heritage profoundly influenced his work, which ranged from abstract sculptures to innovative landscape designs. After studying in both the United States and Europe, he developed a unique style that merged modernist principles with the serenity and organic forms found in traditional Japanese art. His travels to Japan and his early experiences with Rodin’s studio in Paris played a pivotal role in shaping his vision, which became both a personal exploration and a cultural fusion.

Noguchi’s works often blurred the line between art and architecture, pushing boundaries in public sculpture and design. One of his most prominent contributions was his work on public spaces, with landmark pieces such as the UNICEF Fountain in New York (1959) and the California Scenario in Costa Mesa (1980s), which combined sculpture, water, and landscape elements. He sought to create environments that invited interaction, transforming architectural spaces into living works of art. His emphasis on form and the relationship between human experience and space defined much of his career, making him a leader in modernist landscape design. The Noguchi Museum, opened in 1985 in Long Island City, New York, stands as a testament to his legacy, housing an extensive collection of his work.

Noguchi’s reach extended beyond public sculpture into furniture and lighting design, where his Akari light sculptures became iconic symbols of his artistic versatility. These paper and bamboo fixtures, developed in the 1950s, are still considered among the most influential works of modern design. They combined simplicity with elegance, embodying Noguchi’s desire to blend art, function, and beauty seamlessly. Today, his influence is felt across various disciplines, from architecture to industrial design, and his work continues to inspire new generations of artists, designers, and architects worldwide.

Amedeo Modigliani the Jew

By Jonathan Shih

“My name is Modigliani. I am a Jew.”

That was how the artist Amedeo Modigliani would introduce himself to his fellow Parisians in the early 1900s. It was a risky declaration. At a time when ethnic nationalism was surging in France, Jews were frequently subjected to racist remarks and outlandish conspiracy theories.

The Tuscan-born painter found himself in an unusual situation.  Many of his colleagues, like Marc Chagall and Chaïm Soutine, had accents and appearances that Parisians regarded as unmistakably Jewish. Meanwhile, Modigliani’s name and features “passed” as ethnic Italian, and he was fluent in French.

This meant he could have easily concealed his identity. And yet, he refused.

Throughout his brief career, Modigliani embraced being an outsider. He painted dignified portraits of people whose ethnic backgrounds were viewed by some as undesirable, including Jews, Roma, and Slavs. Influenced by art movements from around the world, he cultivated a style that was undeniably his own.

While French society was becoming increasingly fixated on ideas of “racial purity” and Western European superiority, Modigliani was one of several artists who incorporated art styles from beyond the Western world. He fervently studied art from African and Southeast Asian cultures, which, like his own culture, were often dismissed or exoticized in European thought.

Modigliani died of tuberculosis at 35, in poverty and obscurity. It was only years after his death that his work garnered more appreciation, making him one of the most recognizable artists of his time.

“Always speak out,” he once wrote in a letter to a friend, “and keep forging ahead.” 

Einstein and Gödel: Walks Through the Mind of the Universe

By Jonathan Shih

Amid the quiet, tree-lined pathways of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, two of the greatest minds of the 20th century—Albert Einstein and Kurt Gödel—would take their daily walks. These strolls, often in the brisk air of fall or under the bloom of early spring, were not just exercises in movement but journeys through the labyrinth of abstract thought. Their conversations wove through the fabric of reality itself, touching on physics, mathematics, philosophy, and the limits of human knowledge.

Einstein, by then in the later years of his life, had settled into a role more contemplative than experimental. His pioneering work in relativity had already reshaped our understanding of space and time, and though he continued to seek a unified field theory, he found himself increasingly skeptical of the emerging quantum mechanics, which he famously derided as incomplete. Gödel, on the other hand, was a logician who had shaken the very foundations of mathematics with his Incompleteness Theorems, proving that within any sufficiently complex mathematical system, there would always be true statements that could not be proven within that system.

Their friendship was not one of mere intellectual camaraderie but of deep philosophical kinship. Both men shared a reverence for the absolute—Einstein in his quest for determinism in the cosmos, Gödel in his belief in mathematical Platonism, the idea that mathematical truths exist independently of human discovery. Gödel, fascinated by Einstein’s theories of relativity, extended them in his own unique way, constructing solutions to Einstein’s equations that suggested the possibility of closed time-like curves—paths through spacetime that could, theoretically, allow for time travel. While Einstein appreciated the elegance of Gödel’s mathematical ingenuity, he found these solutions deeply unsettling, for they challenged the linear progression of time that he held to be fundamental.

Their walks, then, were more than idle conversations; they were explorations of the unknown, attempts to reconcile paradoxes, and musings on the nature of reality itself. They were two minds orbiting the same mysteries, sometimes converging, sometimes diverging, but always engaged in the highest form of human contemplation.

Einstein reportedly remarked that he enjoyed these walks with Gödel more than with anyone else. Perhaps it was because, in Gödel, he found not just a peer but a fellow traveler on the uncharted path of intellectual discovery. Even as Einstein’s theories were becoming the bedrock of modern physics and Gödel’s theorems continued to perplex and inspire mathematicians, their conversations remained suspended in a space beyond mere academic rigor—where truth, like the universe itself, was both elusive and inexhaustibly fascinating.

Man Ray and Ava Gardner

 By Jonathan Shih

Self-portrait with Ava Gardner, Photograph by Man Ray, 1950

During the production of Albert Lewin’s film Pandora and the Flying Dutchman, Ava Gardner posed for Man Ray. While this painting was ultimately not used in the film, he collaborated with director Albert Lewin on various artistic elements. Man Ray created what became Ava’s favorite photograph—which appears in the movie as a miniature portrait on a table in the Dutchman’s ship.

Nam June Paik: Television as Art

By Jonathan Shih

For any artist who works with the outer limits of contemporary technology, it can be difficult to gauge how work will age and date. What looks shockingly new can quickly appear quaint, naïve or just plain outmoded. Physical forms can degrade or be surpassed, so that what blows an audience’s mind on first contact can look to later generations like a damp squib which barely warrants a raised eyebrow (in Greg Milner’s 2009 book, Perfecting Sound Forever, he recounts the shock which audiences responded with when they were first played a gramophone recording, with one old woman in Worthing utterly insistent that there must be a hidden band playing behind a curtain).

One way of circumventing this risk is to treat technology as malleable hardware, rather than admire its output. And it’s this idea that has ensured that the work of Korean artist Nam June Paik has endured, still looks modern, and that his forthcoming retrospective at Tate Modern in London will be one of the stand-out shows of Autumn. Throughout his career, Paik pushed technology into somewhere its inventors hadn’t intended, and disrupted its core functions. Television monitors, video cameras and radios were rearranged into dog-shaped flickering sculptures; glass screens were painted over; banks of flickering screens were smothered by lush green foliage; neon signage was manipulated into giant three dimensional maps; ring magnets hovered over video recordings of Richard Nixon to pull and stretch the pixelated image.

Paik’s life is one of those extraordinary time capsules of the 20th Century counter culture, touching on some of the most radical creators of the era like an avant-garde edition of Stella Street. Born in Seoul in 1932, the vagaries of World War Two saw his family move between Korea, Hong Kong and Japan before his music studies took him to Munich in what was then West Germany. While studying he encountered composers Karlheinz Stockhausen and John Cage, early electronic artist Sharon Grace, and Fluxus members Joseph Beuys and Wolf Vostell (from 1962 Paik was also a member of the group). His 1984 piece, Good Morning, Mr Orwell live-linked New York, Paris and Seoul, with contributions from Salvador Dali, Laurie Anderson, choreographer Merce Cunningham, author Allen Ginsberg, Paris Review-founder George Plimpton and others.

Based in New York from 1964 Paik’s work pushed increasingly towards ideas which now seem commonplace and still yet to be resolved: his Video Common Market concept foreshadowed the free multicasting of user generated content of YouTube, while his 1974 proposal to the Rockerfeller Institute was already talking about the networking benefits of an ‘electronic super highway.’

The exhibition promises to be ‘a mesmerising riot of sights and sounds’ and will bring together over 200 works from the artist’s five decade career. Highlights include his immersive, room-scale installation Sistine Chapel (1993) and much of his long collaboration with avant-garde cellist Charlotte Moorman. Paik’s work has endured because some 40 years before our present day, he saw how technology had to be treated – not as an object of wonder and reverence, but as a source material to be prodded, engaged with and ultimately transmuted into something new.

Sculptural Rebirth 脱皮的彫刻

By Jonathan Shih

On March 2, the Gallery presented the North American debut of “Sculptural Rebirth 脱皮的彫刻,” an experimental collaboration between Japanese artist Tadasu Takamine and art student from Emily Carr University of Art + Design (ECUAD).

This performance marked the first presentation organized by Makiko Hara at the Gallery in her role as Curator in Residence.

During the performance six students are covered in plaster while they sit and draw a posed model. Once the plaster has set, they break free and emerge, representing a life-altering experience of transformation as each student sheds an ill-fitting skin and moves on to a new phase of life.

Thank you to everyone who joined us to witness this powerful performance!

This performance is organized by the Vancouver Art Gallery with the generous support of Emily Carr University of Art + Design and their NSERC Mobilize grant. It is directed by artist Tadasu Takamine and curated by Makiko Hara, Curator in Residence.

The ECUAD students’ participation was facilitated by artist and Associate Professor Emily Hermant and Studio Assistant Kyla Gilbert.

Performers: Karisma Joshi; Parsa Malihipour, Ev Anderson, Manuele Arias, Jun Baek and Carol Diaz

Plasterers: Maho Harada, Rachel Crane, Tessa Amery, Lucas Sid, Keeyan Suazo and Eliza Miller

Microphone Handler: Lok Yiu Janice Lee

Life Model and Reader: Frances McDonald

Sound Operator: Lennox Johnston-Yu

Photographer Glen Luchford and Kate Moss

 By Jonathan Shih

In June 1994, British photographer Glen Luchford collaborated with 20-year-old model Kate Moss for a Harper's Bazaar photoshoot in New York City. The session aimed to capture the raw energy of the city and Moss's burgeoning presence in the fashion world. Over the course of a single day, Luchford utilized more than 200 rolls of film, predominantly in black and white, to document Moss against the backdrop of New York's gritty streets. The shoot traversed various iconic locations, including Times Square and the Hotel Chelsea, encapsulating the essence of the mid-90s urban landscape. 

This collaboration coincided with a pivotal moment in Moss's career. Her Calvin Klein advertisements had recently been unveiled in Times Square, marking her rapid ascent in the American fashion scene. The Harper's Bazaar images showcased Moss's ability to embody both vulnerability and strength, qualities that resonated with the era's evolving aesthetic. Luchford's approach emphasized spontaneity and authenticity, capturing candid moments that highlighted Moss's natural charisma and the dynamic environment of New York City. 

Despite the artistic merit of the photographs, the editorial team at Harper's Bazaar had reservations about the predominantly black and white imagery, expressing a preference for color photographs. This creative divergence led to Luchford parting ways with the magazine. Nevertheless, the 1994 photoshoot remains a seminal work, exemplifying the synergy between photographer and model, and offering a timeless portrayal of a city and a supermodel on the cusp of transformation.

Studio Ghibli: The Founders

By Jonathan Shih

They are Hayao Miyazaki, Isao Takahata and Toshio Suzuki, the founders of Studio Ghibli.

Studio Ghibli is one of the world's most influential and beloved animation studios, but its origins were as risky as it was magical.

Born in 1985 from the hands of three geniuses: Hayao Miyazaki, Isao Takahata and producer Toshio Suzuki, with the goal of creating films that break molds and take Japanese animation to new heights. Rather than narrating with images, they wanted to make poetry with their animations.

It all started with "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind," a film based on the Miyazaki manga of the same name. Although it wasn't produced under the Ghibli name, its financial and artistic success convinced the team that they could start their own studio.

The name "Ghibli" is said to come from an Italian aircraft the Caproni Ca.309 Ghibli, chosen by Miyazaki as a metaphor for a "new wind" in animation.

His first official project was "The Castle in the Sky" in 1986, an epic adventure that wasn't an immediate box-office hit, but laid the foundations of the Ghibli-style: detailed animation, complex characters, deep messages, animated plastic, fantasy worlds, metaphors, and a narrative that splashes into the poetry.

In 1988, two masterpieces were released:

- "My Neighbor Totoro" directed by Miyazaki, a tale about childhood and the supernatural, which became the icon of the studio, so much that it is even part of its logo.

- "The Grave of the Fireflies" directed by Takahata, a rather sad drama about the havoc the gv3*rr4 leaves. With this film it was demonstrated that animation could handle adult topics with sensitivity.

In the 90s, Ghibli solidified its reputation with jewels such as "Red Pig" (1992), "Pompoko" (1994) and "Princess Mononoke" (1997), the latter being the first to have a massive Western premiere thanks to a deal with Disney.

The Journey of Chihiro" (2001) catapulted them to the Olympus of cinema: it won the Oscar for Best Animated Film and the Golden Bear in Berlin, becoming Japan's highest-grossing film for years.

The boy and the heron were awarded their second Oscar and increased the prestige of the already consolidated studio.

Ghibli stands out for its traditional craftsmanship: hand-drawn, avoiding CGI, and its soulful stories, where the everyday and the fantastic intertwine.

Although Miyazaki announced his retirement several times, he always came back! , the studio is still active, with new generations taking the baton.

Edgar Degas the Photographer

By Jonathan Shih 

Although better known for his Impressionist paintings and prints, Degas spent five years making photographs of family members and artist friends. “These days, Degas abandons himself entirely to his new passion for photography," wrote a peer in 1895. After dinner parties ended, he enlisted fellow guests as models. In this photograph, the poet Stéphane Mallarmé looks down at the painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir. In the mirror behind them, Degas can be glimpsed operating the camera, using a bright magnesium flash. Photographing indoors was difficult during this time, given the technological limitations; even with the flash and nine carefully arranged kerosene lamps, his sitters still needed to hold their poses for several minutes.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Stéphane Mallarmé

Photograph by Edgar Degas, 1895

MoMA, New York