125 Stadiums by Jenny Odell

Fall kickoff Tuesday greetings, collectors! It's a gray day in NYC, seemingly appropriate for the back-at-it we're all up to today. I chose to leave my hair sandy and sea-washed for just one more day (my homage to a lovely, celebratory weekend spent at the shore among people that I adore), but the fact is that fall is my most favorite season of all. My calendar is chock full of exciting autumn events and openings (including Sarah McKenzie's second solo exhibition, which opens at Jen Bekman Gallery on Friday), and who doesn't love sweater weather?

Speaking of kickoffs, 125 Stadiums, our fifth edition from Bay Area artist Jenny Odell, is likely to inspire a roar from the crowd. Jenny's works, the result of hours spent scouring Google Satellite View, have proven to be utterly addictive for my data-geek pals: My algorithms-obsessed friend Kevin Slavin is possibly her #1 fan. And Ms. Odell and the fine fellas of Stamen (including Mr. prettymaps himself, Aaron Straup Cope), had plenty to discuss over cocktails one evening in SF, making for a beautiful, data-driven experience.

Jenny's fanbase is certainly not limited to the data-nerds among us—it's been increasing exponentially (not to mention internationally)! Her collections appeal to both those who experience the world on the ground via the web, or soaring above it in an airplane. I wrote about that sensation when introducing her very first 20x200 edition:

I've clocked a lot of hours up in the air... Still, one thrill that never fails me is looking down from above and watching a sprawling city become small; its buildings, roads and cars shrinking down into little bits that I'd need to pick up gingerly between two fingers so as to not break them.

Luckily for us, Ms. Odell's output isn't shrinking—we've got more work queued up from her (and I've got quite a few on my wish list that I'm hoping she'll release with us, as well). Jenny will also be in a group show next month at Intersection for the Arts (we'll give you all the deets soon as the date nears so you can plan accordingly), alongside SF-resident Wendy MacNaughton. And you can view the artist's work published in German magazines NEON and Zeitmagazin, as well as see her editorial eye at work, as the West Coast editor, in photo publication Conveyor.

— Jen

Wintourfeld by Don Oehl

Jacoppola by Don Oehl

Stylin' greetings, collector friends! Fashionistas have been stomping their well-shod feet all throughout NYC in preparation for tomorrow's launch of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week. So we're releasing this pair of prints in honor of the larger-than-life personalities that are sure to sashay their way through the sidewalks and catwalks of our most fashionable town.

Today's editions—Wintourfeld and Jacoppola—came via an introduction to their maker, über-popular illustrator Don Oehl, by the super stylist (and Jen's dear friend) Robert Verdi. Don's chic illustrations have landed him gigs with fashion and beauty giants like Bulgari, Elle and Victoria's Secret. He so adeptly merges the worlds of fashion and art, creating tongue-in-cheek work that references major fashion and media moguls while giving a wink to our nation's obsession with power couples and the portmanteau. The opening of Don's solo show at Clic Gallery—tomorrow, September 8th, from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m.—brilliantly coincides with Fashion's Night Out, the now legendary night when stiletto-clad hordes of style mavens roam the streets of Manhattan into the wee hours, drinking and shopping as they go. His show will be on view through October 9th, for those of you planning an autumn-in-New York trip.

Not only does fashion get center stage this week, but also art, with 36 galleries, including Jen Bekman Gallery, celebrating their season opening tonight. With an official opening reception set for Friday, Sarah McKenzie's second solo show, Void, will have an early preview tonight from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. With all that's going on, this will be one busy week! So be sure to follow us on Facebook and Twitter to get the latest on must-attend events (and while you're at it, check out today's edition-maker's Twitter, too).

— Charlie

Scrim by Sarah McKenzie

Sarah McKenzie's second solo show, Void, at Jen Bekman Gallery, we debated which image to choose. While her previous works were an investigation into what we build and how, her new paintings ask and begin to answer the question of why we build. And, in particular, the series asks what do we seek and gain in the construction of memorials, specifically in the 9/11 Memorial. Which presented a problem: Did we really want to dive head first into the dialogue around 9/11? We couldn't not not talk about either.

Eventually we chose to present you with Scrim. In its modern, anonymous structure and quiet color palette, it humbly offers quite a bit to think about—"why?" is a pretty big question. But, a little like Sarah herself, Scrim asks questions and offers answers without pretension, giving comfort and solace above the intimidation of any intellectual debate. If you're in NYC or bound to be soon, I strongly recommend that you come by the gallery to see all of its 48"x48" in person.

Jen, tried and true New Yorker that she is, has written paragraphs about that fateful day 10 years ago. I, too, have attempted to assemble my ideas around it. But perhaps Sarah McKenzie's eloquent statement about her recent series can best close out this missive:

It's not surprising... that in the wake of a national tragedy like 9/11 or Hurricane Katrina, our immediate response is to rebuild, to erase the architectural scars that remind us of the horrific event and to demonstrate our enduring spirit to the world. While this urge is understandable—necessary, even—it offers an imperfect form of healing. A void remains: all the lost lives that can't be rebuilt.

In February 2011, I had the good fortune to spend an afternoon photographing the World Trade Center reconstruction site. I was particularly moved to see the 9/11 Memorial. Even in its incomplete state, buried under a foot of new snow, it impressed me. What I find profound about the memorial design is that it acknowledges our collective loss, giving physical form to an absence that will never leave us.

— Sara

Void
Paintings by Sarah McKenzie
Jen Bekman Gallery
6 Spring Street, New York
On view through October 23, 2011

B Side #6 by Rubi Lebovitch

Jen and I met Tel Aviv-based artist Rubi Lebovitch in Paris last November. In the middle of a long day of reviewing portfolios at Lens Culture's FotoFest Paris, Rubi sat down opposite us and did the best thing ever: He made us laugh. With an irrepressible grin, he emanates the kind of joy that comes with the ability to find humor in everyday situations. It could have been offensive or annoying—like that jerk who always seems to know something you don't, so the smile comes off as a smirk—but the thing about Rubi is that he's more than willing to let you in on the joke.

B Side #6 is from a series of work that Rubi submitted to our last round of the Hey, Hot Shot! competition (photographers, stay tuned, the next and last competition of 2011 will open soon!). A collection of bonus hits, the project is a polished kin to something like Jason Evans' The Daily Nice. On his site, Evans regularly shares a new photograph of something that made him happy. It's about his "enthusiasm for looking and being." A similar enthusiasm for looking and being is palpable in Rubi's works.

In addition to photographs, he makes sculptural installations and documents them, as well. In his 3-D works, Rubi creates situations and objects that quickly skip from silly to surreal—a plant in dirt that has lost its pot; a pair of shoes with an impractical excess of laces; a woman knitting, who seems oblivious to the fact that her creation is simultaneously unraveling. In his 2-D works, he seems to find the same subtly absurd occurrences in real life. It is his particular sense of humor that keeps the collection of images in B Side together. Otherwise disassociated moments and things that might have gone unnoticed are united under Rubi's careful, clever, amused eye. It's clear: His ship has come in.

— Sara

Tree Study II by Beth Dow

Hello, collectors! As trees turn and cease to grace us with their greens, consider this one more salut in our extended so long to summer. Since we can't rely on the deciduous darlings that dapple NYC's streets and parks to brighten our ways and walks for much longer, we present you with enduring hues and evergreens in Tree Study II.

A lot's been said about Ms. Beth Dow's odes to the oddities of English gardens—rendered here even more surreal by the lemon-lime light of an approaching storm—so I'll keep this short and sweet. Beth's embrace of cool blues and greens in both Tree Study II and I (which we released earlier this season) replaces her usual grays. They're luscious, lasting and colorfast, created with archival inks on our signature 100% cotton rag matte paper.

But her grays are glorious, as well. We've featured Beth's black and white work in editions past and they've been snapped up by collectors fast. Her platinum-palladium prints are much desired, too, among photography aficionados new and old. They've earned her a place* in the Museum of Contemporary Photography's Midwest Photographers Project. If you are so inclined, inquire with collector@20x200.com for more info from Jeffrey Teuton, Director at Jen Bekman Gallery, on these rarer finds.

— Sara

*She's in good company there, with fellow 20x200-artists Curtis Mann, Paula McCartney, Colleen Plumb and Brian Ulrich.

Approach by Thomas Prior

Jet Blast by Thomas Prior

Shadow by Thomas Prior

Hi, collectors! For you, today, I have a good story. It starts more than 10 years ago, but you all became a part of it when Jen first introduced you to Thomas Prior and his pictures about 14 months ago. Back then she wrote:

Tom works hard and has kept at the photography thing for a while... A decade's worth of dedication and persistence is evident in his work—it's gotten better and better. It's usually a long rough road out there for artists... For most [including Tom] it's a marathon of portfolio reviews... competitions (Tom was [then] named one of PDN's 30 New and Emerging Photographers to Watch), group shows and assisting gigs, all while making photos. It's WORK.

With Approach, Jet Blast and Shadow, we mark one more year of Tom's dedication to his craft. These three images come from Maho Beach, one of several small bodies of work that make up a larger personal project about dangerous recreation in beautiful places. The photos are great (of course), but the thing that I'm so excited about is: THIS PROJECT WAS FUNDED BY YOU. All of you who collected Tom's previous editions—Jump, Steps and Post #471—contributed to his ability to take time off of work-work and fly to St. Maarten to photograph the jet-blasted Maho Beach and its sand-stung sunbathers.

In his pursuit of these photographs, Tom's persisted, too, in making pretty much perfect pictures. It's not just the years he's spent shooting (a practice that's diligently documented on his blog), it's all the time and effort he puts into refining and tweaking his images as prints. Every pixel, every color, every line (including the horizon in Shadow—shift it and the whole picture goes awry) is carefully considered. Hours spent adjusting—adding or subtracting two points of yellow or one point of red—to make sure the final photograph is exactly so, are evidence of this: what you're getting is nothing less than Tom's very best. It's really, actually, the most sincere kind of thank you.

The best from Tom begets the best from you, collectors, in your patronage; and from clients and publishers in assignments. His projects are getting good travel—Jet Blast wrapped the cover of Dear Dave, No. 9, Machine Gun Weekend made TIME magazine's LightBox and he spent NYC Fashion Week shooting backstage candids for Vogue.com—all the hard work is paying off.

— Sara

Untitled (Quill/Coda Rugs) by Christina Muraczewski

Happy Tuesday, dear collectors! Five-time edition-maker Christina Muraczewski holds a special place in our hearts here at 20x200—she was among the very first artists featured when we first launched. Over the years since, she's pushed her design-borrowing-from-art-borrowing-from-design-to-make-art-again aesthetic past the sensible limits.

Untitled (Quill/Coda Rugs)—an arrangement of somewhat familiar stripes, faux bois, flora and fauna—seems simple at first. But the illusion of space Christina's concocted elucidates something more interesting: a play on real and fake. I spent some more time considering this when introducing Flora #2:

The clever faux bois that papers the backgrounds of her compositions is where Chrissy's smart surface interpretations begin, but her blending of real and fake extends to the objects painted over them. The flowers, birds, polka dots and patterns are borrowed from the design language of desire that we're all vaguely (if not intimately) familiar with, thanks to Ikea, Crate & Barrel and the like.

To see how far Ms. Muraczewski pursues these ideas, check out her project Ikea. For now I'll leave you with that, but we have lots of good stuff on deck: tomorrow we'll have new work from Laura Bell, and on Thursday we'll have a suite of prints from seminal performance artist William Pope.L. Till then!

— Sara

Blackford Forest by Laura Bell

October is almost upon us and soon the chill of the autumn air will set in. The trees will become barren; dusk will creep in earlier and earlier. Blackford Forest, by Laura Bell, with its mysterious, slightly ominous feel, is the consummate harbinger of the month ahead.

Blackford Forest comes from a body of work which has already produced two other editions, Gust of Wind and Ferry from Ardrossan Harbor. Inspired by her time spent living in Scotland for two years, the Pennsylvania-based photographer drew from the Old Masters and her adopted home's rich past to create The Alba Series, likely named for the ancient Scottish Gaelic word for the country. Like her other works from the series, Forest is evocative of mystery, of the supernatural, of that time in Scotland's history when magic and lore fascinated its people.

From the lighting to its shape and moody subject matter, Forest is a striking photograph. Laura's attention to crafting a beautiful picture—referencing Vija Celmins, Nadav Kander and Jan van Eyck—impressed the Hey, Hot Shot! panel, earning her the title of 2010 Hot Shot and "an onslaught of interviews and posts all over the internet," as Sara recently wrote.

So, photographers, take note: Hey, Hot Shot! will soon (very soon!) be accepting submissions. Those of you interested in the perks that come with being selected a Hot Shot (including participation in a group exhibition at Jen Bekman Gallery and being in the running to win the grand prize of $10k) should sign up for the HHS! low-volume newsletter to find out when the competition opens.

— Charlie

Skin Set Drawing: Blue People Are The Future by William Pope.L

Skin Set Drawing: Red People Are From Mars Green People Are From New Jersey by William Pope.L

Skin Set Drawing: White People are the Future by William Pope.L

It's an amazing thing to have the opportunity to work with someone like William Pope.L— his work is exhibited internationally, widely acclaimed and frequently awarded some of art's highest honors—but it's also a huge challenge. In part because his work is provocative—with such provocation easily escalating into controversy—and often performance-based, making it even more difficult to convey the ideas around his practice within the confines of two dimensions.

But Pope.L knew right away that he wanted to create new, original drawings from his Skin Set Drawings to be the basis of these 20x200 editions. As I've become more familiar with his practice, it's easy to see why. The core concepts that drive his work—ideas about identity, especially race—are deftly illustrated here, challenging the viewer to confront a topic that's incredibly uncomfortable. (That the art world amplifies that discomfort isn't exactly subtext.)

What's engaging, and uncomfortable, about these editions is how pointedly they illustrate the incredible charge of the words "white" and "black." The two smaller pieces—Blue People Are the Future and Red People Are from Mars Green People Are from New Jersey—talk about the color of people in such fantastical terms. Green, red and blue suggest the absurdity of describing humans as either black or white, while reinforcing how incredibly powerful it is to attribute any characteristics to people thus identified.

Not quite sure what I mean? Cycle through the sentences he has depicted throughout the drawings' history and see how squirmy you get as you encounter these bold pronouncements about what people are (or are not). The ones describing black or white people have a sense of intentional confrontation. Certainly there's no small perversity in the idea of a white person buying a work by a black artist entitled White People Are the Future—buying it, and (hopefully) displaying it, but the other more imaginatively colored humans convey their perversity in more subtle ways.

Pope.L's work confronts its viewers with a hard truth, one that I wish people were more accepting of: Everyone is racist. To proclaim that you're not shuts the door on a much more difficult, nuanced conversation. But, ultimately, it's the only conversation that holds any promise of progress being made to confront and/or defeat the corrosive effects of racism.

— Jen