In the halls of the Gemeentemuseum Den Haag, Mark Rothko has made way for photographer Anton Corbijn. A bigger difference hardly seems conceivable, but an exhibition with lots of pop photographs fits seamlessly into the museum's mission to bring 20th-century avant-garde art, stresses director Benno Tempel. Corbijn, who celebrates his 60th birthday this year, will be honoured with a double exhibition; besides a retrospective at the Gemeentemuseum, there will also be a retrospective of his pop photographs at the neighbouring Fotomuseum.
Relaxed, Anton Corbijn answers questions from journalists in the covered courtyard of the Gemeentemuseum. Whether he sensed that his photographs would one day become museum art. No, he didn't, but he did see photos as early as the 1970s with something he couldn't put his finger on, photos that could well last longer. 'And those are the ones hanging here now. I feel strengthened in my stubbornness.'
Growing up as a vicar's son near the Hollands Diep, always under the magnifying glass of his surroundings, Corbijn liked to hide behind the camera. This also allowed him to easily penetrate the front rows at pop concerts. For years, he photographed famous pop musicians. In his raw black-and-white photographs, he tried to approach them not as idols, but from the power of their music. With some, such as U2, he became friends, but for a good photograph he did not need to know the artists personally, his media images sufficed. Random passers-by on the street, however, would be difficult for him to portray.
He has since traded in pop photography for a career as a filmmaker. He still only does photography as a 'hobby', and then it is mainly visual artists he captures.
Dutch Deep
The retrospective, 'Hollands Deep' at the Gemeentemuseum, shows different periods of Corijn's oeuvre. These range from his early pop portraits to erotic conceptual work from the 1990s and the series 'a.somebody' in which he photographs himself as John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix, among others. Corbijn made the selection together with curator Franz Kaiser. He found many photographs that he had virtually forgotten, but also many that in his eyes would be better forgotten.
What remained are the iconic works. Of these, as Tempel points out, Vermeer or Mondrian made one or two, Corbijn a lot. The deeply lived-in head of Miles Davis graces the poster, but there are also beautiful portraits of, for instance, Clannad (reminiscent of Munch's Scream), Nick Cave (the dark cover photo of The Boatman's Call) and Björk (the quasi-blue faded film image from the series 33 STILL LIVES).
Impressive recent artist portraits include the elderly Gore Vidal, Lucian Freud, Damien Hirst (with skull face) and Ai Wei Wei. Corbijn had 20 minutes to photograph the dissident Chinese sculptor in 2012 before he had to report to the police station. It forced him to focus quickly and sharply, resulting in an intense photo.
1-2-3-4
So while "Hollands Deep" shows a lot of diversity, in "1-2-3-4" the visitor gets the feeling that it all becomes a bit much of the same. Among the hundreds of photos, mostly commissions for music magazines, there are absolutely top pieces - famous cover photos of Depeche Mode, a penetrating portrait of Tom Waits - and for the enthusiast it is exciting to see the photos that did not make the magazine, but there is also a lot of repetition
A number of artists have their own wall, apart from DM and Waits including U2, Nirvana, the Stones, Metallica and Johnny Rotten. These walls often show similar (group) portraits above and below each other, with band members looking expectantly. Regularly, moreover, the people portrayed are masked, which is not conducive to fathoming their personalities. For the magazines, apparently, sometimes the gimmick was more important than the artist's character.
The second weakness to 1-2-3-4 lies in the fact that Corbijn quit pop photography. The focus is overwhelmingly on the alternative music of the 1980s and 1990s: new wave, punk, some glam rock and metal. This starts to feel unintentionally dated, as if the exhibition is documenting a musical era rather than an oeuvre. Corbijn himself also seems to realise this. Looking back is not his thing, but "very nice for once," he says. And preferably now than in twenty years, because, he fears, there will no longer be enough people who have experienced the pop idols photographed and can appreciate the photographs from that aspect. And interest in the artists does, unfortunately, prove to be desirable to remain captivated by this plethora of music photos.