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Lot Essay
Alec Soth burst onto the art scene in 2004 with something of a doubleheader: his first book, Sleeping by the Mississippi, was published to wide critical acclaim by Gerhard Steidl, the legendary German publisher, a hot name in art book publishing circles. That year, Soth was also included in the 2004 Whitney Biennial, and one of his most iconic images featured in promotional material (Charles, Vasa, Minnesota, 2002). It was an auspicious beginning for a young artist, and brought a level of attention that has the tendency to so traumatize many younger artists that they never quite recover.
Soth (rhymes with ‘both’) thrived. Born and raised in the Midwest, he stayed put in Minneapolis, and simply started his next project. That was followed by another, and another; he wrote and managed a highly influential blog through the mid-2000s; he started a small photobookcentric publishing company called Little Brown Mushroom; he was accepted into the coveted Magnum Agency on the strength of his work and storytelling approach; he photographed Paris Fashion Week, survivalist hermits, and, for Kathy Ryan of the New York Times, fracking in South Dakota; he joined the rosters of Sean Kelly Gallery and Fraenkel Gallery.
The status and influence of Sleeping by the Mississippi continued to increase during this time. Appearing at a moment when interest in the history and current role of the well-made photobook was beginning to build, the small print run of the first edition sold out nearly overnight, as did two subsequent reprints. Each time, the cover design changed and the ante was upped for an entire generation of photographers.
In American pop-culture, there is little that is more iconic than the roadtrip. Sleeping by the Mississippi is just that—a road-trip book. It is one of the great contemporary examples from a long line of great examples: Robert Frank, Garry Winogrand, Stephen Shore, Todd Hido, Ryan McGinley, and the duo Taiyo Onorato and Nico Krebs have all worked within this tradition. Soth used the Mississippi River as his guiding geographical landmark, but the notion of sleeping was both literal and metaphorical, hinting at both the journey and the land.
Patrick, Palm Sunday, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 2002 is one of the more striking portraits from the series. Standing amidst what appear to be ruins around him, Patrick stands with Bible in hand, squarely facing his audience, with his head slightly cocked to the side, as if he’s waiting direction or curious about the experience. There is a gentleness and a sincerity to him that comes across, through the image. That speaks volumes, not just about him, but also about the artist who managed to give his sitter the space to simply be himself.
Soth (rhymes with ‘both’) thrived. Born and raised in the Midwest, he stayed put in Minneapolis, and simply started his next project. That was followed by another, and another; he wrote and managed a highly influential blog through the mid-2000s; he started a small photobookcentric publishing company called Little Brown Mushroom; he was accepted into the coveted Magnum Agency on the strength of his work and storytelling approach; he photographed Paris Fashion Week, survivalist hermits, and, for Kathy Ryan of the New York Times, fracking in South Dakota; he joined the rosters of Sean Kelly Gallery and Fraenkel Gallery.
The status and influence of Sleeping by the Mississippi continued to increase during this time. Appearing at a moment when interest in the history and current role of the well-made photobook was beginning to build, the small print run of the first edition sold out nearly overnight, as did two subsequent reprints. Each time, the cover design changed and the ante was upped for an entire generation of photographers.
In American pop-culture, there is little that is more iconic than the roadtrip. Sleeping by the Mississippi is just that—a road-trip book. It is one of the great contemporary examples from a long line of great examples: Robert Frank, Garry Winogrand, Stephen Shore, Todd Hido, Ryan McGinley, and the duo Taiyo Onorato and Nico Krebs have all worked within this tradition. Soth used the Mississippi River as his guiding geographical landmark, but the notion of sleeping was both literal and metaphorical, hinting at both the journey and the land.
Patrick, Palm Sunday, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 2002 is one of the more striking portraits from the series. Standing amidst what appear to be ruins around him, Patrick stands with Bible in hand, squarely facing his audience, with his head slightly cocked to the side, as if he’s waiting direction or curious about the experience. There is a gentleness and a sincerity to him that comes across, through the image. That speaks volumes, not just about him, but also about the artist who managed to give his sitter the space to simply be himself.