Friday, April 20, 2018

The Illustrious Rascal: Photographing the Eternality of the Midcentury Teenager


The 1950’s and 60’s changed the tide for the American teenager. Movies like Rebel Without A Cause began to define a new generation who could revel in the inbetweenness of their current state. Not fully grown but no longer a child, this created a unique opportunity for teenagers to relish in their lack of commitments and the immeasurable freedom of being young and attractive in a world where beauty is the measure of all things. With endless possibilities came a restlessness that bred delinquency and mischief. Rejecting previously accepted standards and forging new identities fueled by the media's glorification of crime, sex, drugs, and alcohol, the midcentury teenager is a whole new brand of youth. Photographers spin their devilry into adventure and their boredom into freedom. Cigarettes in hand and deviance sprawled across their faces, these youngsters are immune to our judgement thanks to the attractiveness of both their bodies and their brazen freedom. Half a century later, images of these teenagers serve as a picture of liberation and exalted insurgency against the university attending, desk job working, suburban living adults they were destined to become. There is a glamour to their otherness that we can’t help but praise because they embody a doctrine we fiercely covet and yearn to relate to. Their refusal to conform to the standards of society as they pioneer a new rendering of the American teenager gives them a sense of eternality as they withstand the forces of their generation. Frozen in time by the camera, they are suspended in a state of elevated limbo where their beauty and youth can never run out.


Bruce Davidson, Brooklyn Gang, 1959, Gelatin Silver Print, 2004.220


The young gang members are captured unposed and in action, a blurriness or purposeful 
angle disguising their identities, leaving them simply as muscular figures with tattooed arms and chiseled faces. This photograph spotlights the subjects’ masculinity and style rather than their actual identities, urging us to forget their true character and recognize them as mavericks of their generation. By keeping the teens relatively unidentifiable by more than their youthfulness, they cannot be located culturally. When their names and stories disappear, each person in the photo ceases to be anything other than this version of himself that embodies the vivacity of the generation. The teenagers most enviable trait of all is that they will never be anything other than a teenager. 


Dennis Stock, James Dean, 1955, Gelatin Silver Print, Magnum Photos



James Dean, the star of
Rebel Without a Cause and a generational icon of teen angst, epitomizes the concept of forever young. Pictured here with both a cigarette and a book of poetry in hand, not only does he manifest the glorious idea of defiance to social conformity but he elevates the perception as something more introspective than mere rebellion. His tragic death at the age of 24 proves the finitude of even the young and beautiful, yet simultaneously does the complete opposite by preserving him as an eternal picture of youthful beauty and contempt. 


Bruce Davidson, Teenage Couple Smoking at Kitchen Table, 1959, Gelatin Silver Print, Carnegie Hall Collection




The background elements of this photograph place it clearly in its time. The Norge refrigerator, an old fashioned tea kettle atop a dated stove, and scalloped cabinets are all characteristics of a 50’s home and locate the image historically. However, if all that was removed, there would be nothing left to place this photograph in the 1950’s. The look on the young man’s face suggests a raw adoration, a type of timeless love that existed before and after the photo was taken, whether or not this relationship actually did. Completely contrasting that is the impassive presence of the girl who seems more interested in the cigarette than the boy who cannot take his eyes off her. There is a recklessness between them that looks like pure anarchic fun, as if they have a spirit that time cannot fade because, pictured here, they're young and limitless. 


Larry Clark, Untitled , 1963, Gelatin Silver Print, FOAM Amsterdam



This photograph, taken from Larry Clark’s photobook highlighting Oklahoma’s youth 
culture entitled Tulsa, is simultaneously horrifying and fascinating because of the explicit juxtaposition. A teenager father with a cigarette in one hand and his baby in the other breaks every natural rule we have and as much as we want to ridicule him, we can’t deny the fact that there is something almost enviable about the boy’s impenitence. We look upon this subject with a surface level indignance but a shameful jealousy hidden below. Wouldn’t it be nice to care so little? There is an inherent freedom to this level of defiance that allows the teenager captured in the photograph to surpass his time and exist with the same detached sentiment today as he did in 1963. 


Joe Scherschel, Teenagers walking on their hands down the street , 1960-06, Gelatin Silver Print, Life Photo Collection



There is a house and a car in the background making this appear to be a normal city street. However, what the teenagers are doing is far from normal. The man in the background looks upon them with judgement but they continue to carry out their bold fun. In this case, the teenagers are defiant in the sense that they are acting younger rather than older. They are refusing to be mature. The fact that their shoes are on their hands shows that they are not just simply doing handstands in the street, they planned this act of childlike spite. Less immature and more just lighthearted and silly, these teens show that a level of innocence can still be retained as time and life goes on. 


Edward Sturr, Chicago, 1965, 1965, Gelatin Silver Print, Art Institute of Chicago



Faces fully bared and eyes looking directly into the camera, the subject’s identities are 
finally somewhat apparent. The two boys in the front are differentiable and distinct. They are not dressed plainly or alike. These faces are irreplaceable. Seated in this shiny car, they encapsulate “cool” in a very nonchalant way. They appear to be real people who really existed unlike most of the beings in the other images who look like sample models. If cropped, the picture could almost retain that documentary sense. However, the car puts a crack in that reality. By viewing them from the window of the car, it feels as if we are looking at a picture within a picture. This extended split, separated by two lenses rather than one, stops us from making the full human connection we must have to walk away from this image and leave the boys in 1965. Their coolness so perfectly framed lasts far beyond that time. 

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