Publisher: Tucson, Arizona: Nazraeli Press, 2017
Edition: 1st Edition
Condition: New / No dust jacket as issued
Item #: 113202
SPECIAL EDITION SUBSCRIBER DISCOUNT: Customers who purchase the complete Set 3 of six titles (item #113194) qualify for a $150 discount off the price of this special limited edition (with print) from Set 3 (the special limited edition also includes a copy of the slipcased book). Otherwise, special edition price is net to all; promotional discounts do not apply.
First edition, first printing. Special limited edition of 12 copies, with signed and numbered silver gelatin print, which is housed together with the book in a custom clamshell box. The prints are an edition of 12. Hardcover. 15 x 12 inches.
ABOUT THE BOOK: First edition, first printing. Limited edition of 350 copies. Each of the six volumes is numbered on the colophon page and signed by the artist on a label tipped in to the back cover. Each volume in the set shares the following characteristics: Hardcover. Silk cloth-covered boards; with photographically illustrated dust jacket and silk cloth-covered slipcase. 15 x 12 inches.
New in publisher's packaging.
From the introduction: "“For New Yorkers, 1975 was a particularly bleak year of a tumultuous decade. The city was on the verge of insolvency, mired in a national recession and reeling from the flight of the middle class to the suburbs. Twenty percent of the public workforce was laid off while rates of crime and drug use soared. In these relentlessly frontal, clear-eyed pictures, indications of a grim reality are everywhere to be found in the form of sordid surfaces, improvised signage, cracked windows, and dissident scrawls.
When the photographs in this book were first exhibited in 1976, their formal austerity and apparently neutral stance invited comparison with the contemporaneous work of Lewis Baltz, Bernd and Hilla Becher, and other photographers featured in the seminal “New Topographics” exhibition. Distance, however, has revealed their concerns and temperament to be more akin to those of Marville or Atget, both of whom had a special feeling for the life and death of buildings (and thus of place), or Walker Evans, whose pictures Lincoln Kirstein praised for their clear, hideous and beautiful detail, their open insanity and pitiful grandeur.’”