"Original Sin"

from http://www.yezzz.com/auctions/27978633.html

from http://www.yezzz.com/auctions/28274001.html

scan by WM from July/August, 1999 American Photo

photo from John Hopkins University Press Performing Arts Journal.

"Soit," New Orleans, 1998
(larger version is available here)

text from John Hopkins University Press Performing Arts Journal.

... Clothing was also missing from Ellen Von Unwerth's Original Sin at Staley-Wise. Inspired by E. J. Bellocq's turn-of-the-century photographs of prostitutes in Storyville, New Orleans, the artist has concocted a creole stew of sexual high jinx, picturesque decay, and exotic poverty. Acted out among ratty Victorian furnishings, her soft porn scenarios feature a cast of half-naked models dressed in scanty garments that call to mind moth-eaten Victoria's Secret lingerie. Hilarious French titles summon up Playboy at Night: Hot Rain, Burning, Feline, Thirsty. On a pink wall, a sign saying "Tequila Sauza Estate Collection presents Original Sin" greeted the viewer at the door, alongside "Gallipettes," a large color print of a pair of legs clad in black boots and holey black stockings waving in the air. In "Mardi Gras," a nude model wearing the same black stockings and boots stands up on a rumpled bed, her only other clothing heavy lipstick and a black domino mask. Nude outdoors, the same model pulls on her stockings at night among blurred street lamps in "Minuit Rue Royale." A few landscapes provided a setting of vine-draped trees leaning over decrepit shacks and fetid swamps, and in other small photos, a narrative of sex and possible murder inside the shack begins to form. "Après-midi" showed a nude man lying on a stained floor; above him leans the same nude woman in her boots and stockings, pushing down on his tattooed chest. Hand prints cover a pair of thighs in "Mains Curieuses." Could it be blood? Von Unwerth has also published Couples, a small but hefty volume packed with innumerable snapshots of hip-looking people cavorting in various locales. The introduction by Ingrid Sischy, former editor of Artforum and current editor of Interview, includes a description of Von Unwerth's appearance at the Kit Kat Klub in heels and black fishnets, looking like a cast member of Cabaret. According to Sischy, Von Unwerth, who was an assistant to a knife thrower in the circus and a fashion model before she took up photography, is primarily a girl who wants to have fun. She does not appear to be burdened by the search for deeper meaning that hampers van Lamsweerde. Leafing through Couples is a bit like watching the quick parade of outfits at a fashion show. Pairs range from ducks to classical statues; celebrities include Courtney Love, Eartha Kitt, and Dennis Rodman; and locations run from bordellos to bathtubs. There is even a bizarre portrait of two policemen standing on a Miami sidewalk, dressed only in hats, black shoes and socks, badges, gunbelts, and underpants. But hanging on a gallery wall and confined to one rather stifling theme, Von Unwerth's photographs lose the vitality they have on the printed page. In the end, Original Sin is just some pictures of a few pouty fashion models putting on a titillating ersatz turn-of-the-century show that could have been shot on location at the giant ABC Carpet emporium in New York. The images do not reward sustained viewing. Asking no questions, providing nothing to think about, their interest is soon exhausted. The inspiration both of these artists find in the past gives rise to comparisons that wind up weakening the work. Tied as they are to the present, Von Unwerth's pictures have none of the mysterious specificity of Bellocq's, while van Lamsweerde's exhibition bears a ludicrous resemblance to a twisted lineup of old master portraits. For future audiences, of course, this will change. Photographs like these may someday provide a fascinating picture of the lifestyles of the bygone rich. In this context, it is interesting to compare Couples to ME. Aristocratic-appearing name notwithstanding, Von Unwerth appears to be quite democratic. In Couples, both celebrities and apparently ordinary people beam with joy, and well-known subjects are clearly identified in the back of the book. Supposedly, van Lamsweerde's models are also famous, but every scowling portrait is titled "ME," and the secret of their identities is only available to insiders.

photos and text from http://www.staleywise.com/collection/von_unwerth/von_unwerth.html#. In her unflinchingly erotic photographs, Von Unwerth explores the vocabulary of the brothel and its inhabitants: the wrinkled sheets, filmy curtains, black stockings, auto-eroticism, and the air of depravity. But her work is also characterized by the fun and games of contemporary life in the fast lane.

Tatiana Zavialova (id source)

photos from http://www.nerve.com/Photography/Unwerth/BlackAndWhite/

from http://www.100cigarettes.com/

text from http://www.beveragenet.net/cheers/1999/0399/399prmo.asp Sin Again Allied Domecq's Tequila Sauza collection is launching its second "Original Sin" art campaign, featuring work by fashion photographer Ellen Von Unwerth. Unwerth's provocative photos will tour galleries in New York, Austin, Los Angeles and New Orleans to promote Tres Generaciones, Galardon and Triada tequilas. If you don't catch the tour, the photographs can be viewed during opening-night events, on point-of-sale materials and the internet (www.sauza-sin.com).

text from The Austin Chronical Original Sin: Sexy, but a Misnomer First off, let me say that Ellen Von Unwerth's collection of erotic photography titled "Original Sin" is not for everyone. In fact, I'm not quite sure who these bawdy bordello scenes are for, other than those of us looking for a cheap, good-looking thrill -- which, come to think of it, is not such a bad thing. After all, these alluring photos leave much to the promiscuous imagination. Von Unwerth shoots in black-and-white and sepia tones. She purposely leaves some out of focus and dark. Her models wear nothing more than masks and knee high stockings while frolicking in crushed red velvet chicken ranches. That said, are we to consider these photos anything more than high-end girlie pics? The press releases announcing the show would have us adamantly reference the New Orleans father of steamy red light district photography, Ernest J. Bellocq, when we look at Von Unwerth's work, presumably to lend this gallery touring show some artistic credence (89 of Bellocq's glass plates were exhibited at the Museum of Modern Art in 1970). If we do that, then we might as well take the "Original" part of the exhibit's title out because Von Unwerth's photos are almost exact reproductions of Bellocq's masked nudes. That in turn would leave us with the simpler epithet "Sin," which does have quite a ring to it. After all, the fact that Von Unwerth, a longtime fashion photographer, is being touted as a visionary artist is a sin. First of all, take a closer look at Bellocq's photography, by which Von Unwerth is supposed to have been "inspired": His models were real prostitutes and denizens of Storyville, New Orleans' turn-of-the-century center of ill repute, not the supermodels that Von Unwerth transplants from New York. Bellocq's women were rough-edged and crude instead of made-up and looking like they could be on the cover of Mademoiselle. If that doesn't beat all, we are then reminded by the sponsors -- the Tequila Sauza Estate Collection -- that Von Unwerth, like Bellocq, makes sure not to belittle the models she is snapping in the altogether but rather makes a point to dignify them in these prints. Yeah, right. "Original Sin" is no more a collection of contemporary American art than Cindy Crawford is an American hero. Von Unwerth was commissioned by the Tequila Sauza Estate to interpret the concept of original sin for this, the second annual show hosted by the tequila company. However, as an interpretive body of work, it is either vague or demeaning and seems to serve only as a platform for this better-than-average fashion photography. For example, is Von Unwerth telling us that lust is the original sin, and if she is, why are there shots of dried flowers and a Louisiana swamp littered with tree stumps as in Plus Tard and Paradis Perdu? If anything, these are sweet interpretations of the passing of love or youth that don't have anything to do with the so-called raunchy depictions of women in the other photos. Then there is L'envie, a black-and-white photo of a masked, bare-chested model with her hands in the air and a seductive look on her face. Is the original sin lust, desire, or envy? Again, in the end it's best not to bother with the artistic merit and just go look at the sexy scenarios. Von Unwerth has done an excellent job at that. -- Sam Martin