Cindy Sherman was my Gen X art heroine. She was our muse, her work a precursor to Photoshop and selfies. Performance and photography converged in a reflective and remixed context. There is a generation of female artists that rever the universal longing of her work, images without text but loaded with yearning and sass, humor and politics.
The latest retrospective of Sherman’s work naturally is in Los Angeles at The Broad, Eli and Edythe’s temple of contemporary and it’s a short, curated foray into Sherman’s world. It’s a breezy show that can easily be walked in under an hour, heavy on images, light on text, with some rare early works I’ve never seen showcased at other retrospectives and a last room full of Sherman’s newest pieces: high production shots printed on metal that look more Gregory Crewdson in feel, but possess Sherman’s theatrics with a polish. The backdrop is all Icelandic scenery. The effect is Sherman in a richer new format: it’s her CinemaScope for a digital age. Macabre and arresting and simply luscious. Go see the show if you’re a fan just to see the last room. It’s worth the crowds and the pandemonium. The silent glamorous characters in the stills would sulk in agreement.