general

This book is an incredible documentation of community-based art. The artist, Gregory Crewdson, worked over years to unite a small town in the hills of Massachusetts to create art.
It's inspiring to find out that the people of the town (Lee) not only donate their houses for photo shoots, but they also block off streets and are subjects of the photographs.
The photos in the book are accompanied by text written by Rick Moody. The text is interesting, touching on the psychological forces compelling Crewdson to create art--but the real treat is in the photographs themselves.
The work is produced far away from the mainstream art world of Chelsea, yet it has made a great impression there.

This exciting collection of photographs by Gregory Crewdson finally arrives! It is so wonderful to have these images together in a gorgeous book to bring home to my own living room. I have always enjoyed Crewdson's brilliantly detailed and beautifully cinematic images that evoke wonder and awe. There are excellent photographs in this collection. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who appreciates contemporary art.

The photographs in this book are big, glossy, cinematic...and ultimately dull and derivative. Yet those who hold this type of photography as an example of what is wrong with all contemporary art perhaps fail to understand that there is a good deal of photography mining the same themes, but with much more verve and far less self-conscious pretension. One can find mystery and surrealistic undercurrents in the most mundane of contemporary settings...one can depict such settings as dystopian...but there are photographers like Philip Lorca di Corcia and Paul Graham who have done so in recent monographs with execution that is ostensibly simpler, yet riskier and far more bracing in its results.

Crewdson is a talented professional whose influence in the contemporary photography world and in academia is significant, but in this book he commits so many sins it's tough to know where to start in pinpointing what makes this book so leaden. Ultimately, it's the sheer overstatement in presentation that seems to turn the images into white elephant art (to borrow a term from film critic Manny Farber)...an overstated style that evokes the dreadful excesses of the film American Beauty and David Lynch's most self-indulgent moments.

And since Crewdson works in the realm of still images and not in film or video, he doesn't have the benefit of motion, nuanced characters or any reasonable narrative (unlike a show like Six Feet Under, for example) to keep the images from landing with a huge thud. Though there are some "Recurring Themes" in the images (which seem to involve pregnancy and mounds of flowers), whatever narrative or mystery these may imply is simply not worth considering while being assaulted with the sheer excess of everything. The expressions on the faces of the many mannequins in the book have all the subtlety of silent movie acting, except silent movies (and silent movie actors) on the whole are far more poetic in their projection than the sorry models Crewdson chooses to present to the viewer. Crewdson's dramatic lighting of his stillborn subjects only accentuates the shallowness of his concepts.

If you have a friend that loves the scene from the film "American Beauty" where Annette Benning listens to self-help tapes at an ear-deafening volume, if they consider this a solid critique of contemporary American life, Crewdson's equally vacuous volume will make the perfect coffee-table gift. To those looking for more craft, more subtlety, more depth, diCorcia's "A Storybook Life" or Paul Graham's "American Night", or even work from Crewdson's female disciples from Yale like Justine Kurland (to name just a few) -- these explore similar themes with far more rewarding results.