Thomas Struth at Marianne Goodman

Finally had a free day last weekend to go check out some shows with the family. This time around we hit several galleries in Midtown, a wholly different experience from the usual Chelsea gallery hop. In contrast to the Chelsea street-level entrances, the midtown galleries tend to be in multi-story buildings with door men and I feel a little like I shouldn't be visiting without an appointment, let alone dragging in a 4-month-old baby.

First stop was the "Family" group show at Howard Greenberg, then Thomas Struth's new work at Marianne Goodman, and a final stop at Edwynn Houk to see Stephen Shore's "Uncommon Places" show that closed this past Saturday.

Audience 2, (Galleria Dell'Accademia), Florenz by Thomas Struth

The Struth show, entitled "Audience", is another study of people's interaction with art. While Struth's previous series of art-related photographs have either shown groups of people with the art they are viewing or shown art work alone in an exhibition space, these photographs show the viewers only. (Michaelangelo's David is the work they are viewing off stage, so to speak.) The series shows the variety of responses we have to truly impactful works of art. Unselfconscious, relfexive looks of stunned awe David inspires are clearly visible on the faces in the audience. In one picture, one man's hair and sunglasses appear to be blown backwards on his head by the experience. Other reviews of this work will undoubtedly feature the word "enraptured."

Perhaps without meaning to do so, I think these particular photos, by his choice of using David as the catalyst for the audience's reaction, has made a commentary on the value of print size in modern photography. Large scale prints commonly arouse a suspicion that all the attention drawn to modern photography is a function of outsized prints rather than plain good art. When you see the frozen reactions to David on the faces of these tourists, I think it points to the importance of size in art. It's hard to imagine a similar rapt attention paid to a 12-inch statue of the shepard boy. The scale of today's photography is part and parcel of its power as art, no less so than with color field paintings or Richard Serra's steel behemoths. (Which also explains why the Web-sized photos on most gallery sites do no justice to the real deal. You just have to see things for yourself.)