British photographer Martin Parr has translated his passion for popular leisure culture into projects that document in color the tourist attractions and kitschy resorts and their accoutrements that beckon their denizens for a taste of a life fit for the ordinary king and queen consumer. Make no mistake; these are not dignified images. Parr shoots his subjects with cynical tongue firmly in cheek, rendering them in a less-than-flattering manner as they cavort among ancient ruins, set their own cameras to record moments to remember, and engage in such antics as miming attempts to straighten out the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The effect is like eating a presumptuous Jello mold that has a few razor blades inside—a bit blubbery but cutting as hell at the core. That Parr has a kinder and gentler side is shown in the small selection of his early black-and-white studies of street and beach scenes where his subjects are similar, but his approach is more restrained and conventionally aesthetic. We may speculate—as one photographer attending the opening did—that Parr lost his earlier distance from sleaze, got sucked into it, and hated himself for it. (Michael Weinstein)
Through March 27 at Stephen Daiter Gallery, 230 W. Superior