Sarah Kobos

There's a face I see every now and then in McMaster, a fellow photography student who I've exchanged pleasantries with yet have never really spoken nor paid much attention to. We're both rushing through the halls and smile in passing, acknowledging the shared stress and creative aggression it takes to obtain a degree in the photography program.

Sarah Kobos has work up in the student gallery of McMaster, it's a small room with 2 main walls where one can put a bit of work up or they can insert faux walls around the middle of the room to give more space for images. Sarah hosts 6 images on the west wall, evenly spaced and close together. The photographs are matted in white and framed with a simple white wood material. This white on white is perfect in my opinion as a black frame could greatly detract from the impact of these images; portraits of persons ranging in age and lifestyle. I'm not sure what drew me in first, the colors - being subtle yet providing a great intensity and sense of angst or discomfort. Maybe it was the stares I was receiving, each figure is starring point blank into the camera, confronting the photographer and viewer, daring them(us) to say something.
Each photograph is accompanied by a piece of paper, presumably Sarah gave her subjects this paper and instructed them to write for themselves their insecurities or "flaws". I wouldn't want to spoil it for you as I strongly encourage you to visit the gallery and view these images in their entirety and not depend on the binary coding of my tiny LG Cosmos, but the papers reveal awkward and most intimate information about the subject - 2 were enough to put me on the verge of tears after reading and looking again at the confronting face. As a viewer I felt forced to look at these people after receiving this information and suffer through my anxiety, distress, and the general discomfort one feels after being let in on a daring secret.

Her artist statement reads:
"I've always had a fascination with imperfection. I believe it's what makes us whole..." -Sarah Kobos

Sarah's work astounds me, I feel as though I've connected and formed a relationship of sorts with her subjects whereas if they remained images without the paper underneath I would feel as though it simply were another portrait assignment beautifully executed. I am impressed at her ability to make the viewer feel so connected or awkward based on their viewing experience and look forward to either the continuation of the series or her new works.

Sarah Kobos 2011

1615 Senate Street, McMaster College

www.sarahkobos.com

Pseudo Artist Statement

I have been in love with art since I was 9 years old, and I have been obsessed with photography since I was 12 years old. Well, I was introduced to the camera when I was 12, but didn't actually become obsessed until I was 14 or 15. When my mother first brought home the digital camera I wanted nothing to do with it, my impression of the medium was that it would be the art work lazy and incompetent because of its instant gratification; snap the shot, you have a perfect frozen image with every detail you want, whereas a painting took months or years to prepare and render the same image yet never to the same realistic degree as a camera. I love painting, I love sculpture, the intaglio is my favorite printing process; but nothing has taken me the way photography does. I was blissfully happy taking photographs of local graveyards, the stillness and company eased my angsty-emo teenager self and I would only introduce figures when it was my super gothy friends wanting to crawl over the markers. I can say with complete honestly that the majority of my photographs lack content, lack depth. They were made to be pretty and rarely did they try to convey a meaning. I reserved my “voice” for my paintings in high school, political message mostly, works inspired by lyrics and personal experience – I was an Air Force brat so my family had to feel strongly one way or the other about politics and the government though we weren't fact fountains during the campaigns. My father was away on deployment often, my mother wanted a career, a sister who rebelled at every turn and a younger brother who gets on your nerves the way a younger brother should – it was all fuel for my art during middle and high school; art was the escape, it was the only way to speak if I didn't have the breath to scream.

Now that I'm out of high school, away from my parents homes, my siblings and I are closer and stronger than ever able to stand on our feet I've noticed a change in my art. I have nothing to scream about really. Instead I'm learning what I should have learned at the beginning, the formal techniques, the rules of composition and color, the fact that each image and the displaying of that image should read a distinct message – personal and clear. It makes me fear for myself, what if I don't have “it” anymore? Is there no emotion, no cause nor reason present or strong enough to move me anymore? My paints sit drying in their storage, my camera is only pulled when I have a class assignment, I have nothing to say anymore that I can't just outright say. I'm a stronger person than I was in middle and high school, my art led me to my voice which is an accomplishment well revered and I'm grateful yet I miss the relationship I had with art and the materials. I want it back.

In trying to get in touch again with the creative sense I've lost I've been reviewing my work and everything that has led to this moment, so many regrets. I've never second guessed my passion for art or the art itself, it is true to its purpose whether polished or raw, pristine or technically dumb. With all of the learnings and skills I've acquired today I wish to readdress my works and 'speak' once again to my former self, that angsty-emo teenager who was so scared(angry) of(at) the world yet so sure of her art. In the latest photography series I hope to bring my fears to light, to publicly display my shortcomings for the WORLD to judge and critique. It could fail miserably, adding another notch to my failure totem, or it could be that push I need to dive head first into the art that so engrossed me as a young child. I am terrified, but at least now I can say to you(readers) that I am.

2004
acrylic paint