Fraenkel Gallery is pleased to return to Paris Photo with works by Robert Adams, Sophie Calle, Liz Deschenes, Lee Friedlander, Katy Grannan, Martine Gutierrez, Peter Hujar, Christian Marclay, Hiroshi Sugimoto, Carrie Mae Weems and others.
In connection with her 2025 exhibition at the George Eastman Museum in Rochester, New York, Liz Deschenes spent time looking at the museum’s collection of dye samples used for making dye transfer photographs. In a new work, Deschenes dyes digital photography paper in yellow dye, referencing the warm tones that companies such as Kodak long preferred for the sense of cultural safety and belonging they project. With pieces such as Kodak, Deschenes aims to explore the convergences of photographic history and materiality.
In a monotype from a new series, Christian Marclay inks and prints a set of nine 12” record sleeves, capturing the folds, creases, and surface wear of these well-used objects to reveal their tactile histories as carriers of both sound and memory. Fraenkel Gallery will present an exhibition by Marclay in January 2026 featuring new monotypes and collage.
Katy Grannan’s new portrait series Mad River depicts subjects who reflect the independent spirit of Northern California’s Humboldt County, an area known for its privacy and seclusion. Often building relationships with her subjects, Grannan explores the connections between self-presentation and place, creating a kind of collaborative fiction.
In Past Presence, Hiroshi Sugimoto photographs masterpieces of modernist sculpture, creating blurred images that suggest dreamlike versions of the iconic originals. In photographs such as Sugimoto’s reinterpretation of Brancusi’s Mlle Pogany, where the sculpture appears slightly out of focus yet familiar, the artist asks questions about how an artwork is remembered and the nature of its intangible essence through time.
In Lee Friedlander’s sly study of stripes and angles, a cat is framed by the long arm of a lamp and illuminated by flash. A hallmark of Friedlander’s career has been his relentlessly inventive approach to framing, creating impossibly complex images that reflect his cool, slightly aloof view.
Hiroshi Sugimoto created the works in his series Talbotized by applying an electrical charge directly onto photographic film, resulting in unique, instantaneous images of an electrical current. Inspired by William Henry Fox Talbot and Michael Faraday’s nineteenth-century experiments with photography and static electricity, Sugimoto made these images with a brass and glass electrostatic wand used by Talbot himself. Sugimoto borrowed the tool from the Bodleian Library at Oxford, which houses the Talbot archives.
In an image from Neo-Indeo, one of the fashion editorials in Martine Gutierrez’s 124-page magazine Indigenous Woman, the artist wears high heels and traditional and modern Guatemalan textiles. Gutierrez served as photographer, stylist, editor, and model for the project, embodying “a revolving roster of identities that she puts on and takes off as interchangeably as a hairstyle, a mask, or a pair of shoes,” notes Nadiah Rivera Fellah in Aperture. In Indigenous Woman, Gutierrez stages a “guerrilla-style seizure and colonization of space in an image-based world to which she had previously been denied access,” Fellah writes.
Peter Hujar’s composed portraits of lovers, friends, and artists were often photographed in the artist’s own loft, with each sitter captured in an unrestrained moment of openness and connection. Of one of Hujar’s portraits of Keith Cameron, Vince Aletti wrote, “Lightly bearded, with tousled hair falling over one eye, he looks like a Greenpoint hipster.”
Long celebrated as a photographer, Robert Adams has worked with wood for many years, recently using the material to create landscapes. Highlighting the natural grain of the wood, Adams alludes to the quiet forms he remembers from time spent on the Colorado prairie, often finding parallels in his photographs of the landscape.
Hiroshi Sugimoto’s series Revolution depicts seas and oceans around the world, photographed at night using a long exposure to capture the slow movement of the moon and stars across the sky. Turning the image 90 degrees, Sugimoto reminds us that “the horizon is not a straight line, but a segment of a great arc,” he writes.
