i am in love with ali bosworth’s body of work; the color palette, the content, the re-occurrences, the oddities.
everything about his work is mundane, all of it, which may be what makes these images so appealing. the color palette is cold as water but as warm as skin; the consistent tonal quality carried throughout his entire portfolio gives the viewer a sudden calm, as if they’ve stepped out of reality and in to this smooth pink world created for us by bosworth.
obviously, there are repeating subjects throughout his work, which sometimes overlap to create references and metaphysical nods towards images already viewed. the most apparent repeat is the young lady bosworth continuously photographs making us wonder who she is. what is their relationship? where is she going? is she real? perhaps not; perhaps she exists within the photograph for that singular moment captured. i like to go on believing this theory; the girl is too floored to exist outside the portraits. i feel the same way about some of his other imagery, that it shouldn’t exist in this world or reality, only in this body of work. the boarded up house, the painted cat, the exploding cave all seem too ephemeral to remain here for long. we would destroy these things as quickly as we could, but in bosworth’s photographs, they exist forever, in the surreal landscaped world he’s created for himself and his characters.