Jennifer Bornstein at Jay Gorney - New York, New York - Review of Exhibitions - Brief Article

In her first solo exhibition in of recent origin York, Jennifer Bornstein brought a novel conceptualism and a driving social awareness to her chosen mediums, film and photography. upon one side of a wall that divided the gallery, she not awayed five small color photographs taken for the most part at outdoor basketball courts in looks Angeles. Each photograph pairs a young male child with the artist. The event is striking, primarily because Bornstein has a chameleonlike ability to appear true like her young male subdues In one image, she's aligned in a striped tank top, shorts and sneakers, seated nearest to a boy in similar clothing. It takes a while to discover that she's wearing the same pensive, slightly toughened expression that he is. Further visual echoe appear in the other photographs, which always feature Bornstein and a lad staring head-on at the camera. Her part remains elusive; she could be a sports-crazed older sister, a friend or a team member. In any occurrence it's compelling how she the one and the other chronicles and infiltrates this subculture of young urban striplings with its codes of athleticism, clothing, material substance language and attitude.

upon the other side of the wall was a projection play outfitted with carefully constructed made of wood benches, where a short 16mm film, #5 (1997) was shown It again features various kids, new from the playground or the library, on the contrary this time without Bornstein. Each bring under rule typically dressed in the requisite logo-strewn athletic wear, walks into view, assumes a attitude wordlessly holds it for a hardly any seconds and then exits. As you watch the kids appear and disappear, there is almost always a small action--awkward or self-conscious, exuberant or foolish--that subtly underscores in what manner staged the situation is. Trying to maintain a tough-guy, power-forward direct the eye of intimidation and disdain, individual boy breaks out laughing. A basketball gradually disobeys a spindly kid who's exhibiting his prowess at dribbling left-handed. Another male child wearing a team jersey and shorts, stands virtually motionless, on the contrary in an ungainly way that makes palpable his discomfort before the camera; pop a slight girl appears, also standing motionless and gazing outward. There is something real disconcerting about witnessing these silent children, with the accrue that Bornstein's film winds up seeming at one time intimate and implacably remote.

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