I met her last week at Pace Gallery—me jet-lagged from travel in Italy and she doubly distracted by the hanging of her show (in town only three days, a sort of pop-up show), and her daughter’s dental surgery. We sat on the floor of the gallery and talked about her new work, which, while about famous people, doesn’t include any.
Her new book, “Pilgrimage” peeks inside the spaces of people she admires, and documents the things they left behind. The images set up narratives that seemed as though someone just left the frame. In some scenarios it looked like the owners of these goods were coming back in some kind of time-travel fantasy—Georgia O’Keefe might pick up her pastels, Annie Oakley might step into her riding boots and stride off or Emily Dickinson would slip her prim, embroidered dress over her head. Other stories you couldn’t imagine a life re-activated: the top hat and blood-stained gloves Abraham Lincoln wore on this last night to the theater.
The book also includes landscapes, but I think these intimate looks into the lives of others are more curious.