Bryson Rand: Some Small Fever
The body’s gesture is dumbfounded. Great lakes of whites and grays liven the flesh of men. Their paths are coarse; latent in potential beneficiaries of mutual desires. Without absolute copulate their bodies become bellows and light. They’re pieces and parts, concocted coercions congruent and charmed. Bryson Rand is sly. One smile goes a very long way. One photo of his solo show Some Small Fever at New York’s LaMama Galleria has similar effect. What will the pictures look like? You must ask yourself. In the night, during the day, dawn and dusk are consumed in the mood and atmosphere of the photography. Rand’s imagery is devoted to the separate from. If a parallel universe free of judgments and insecurities lives, these photographs are of them.
There exists no organization to cope with such espionage as those who reside on the outskirts of the south side of this Pantheon.
Spaces exist outside of normality looming in illustrious sequins and unconditional fabulousness and acceptance. The mythical nature of such plausible world is not without worry or violence. Voices rise up high hungering for transformation and sanctuary. In these notions Rand resides. Determination looks powerful. People create breath and new body, formed in unusual precision. In the photos nearly everything trickles—just along the edges. Being part of something is like seeing for the first time. Man and woman are intermixed and sexuality is slight in comparison to what they are each capable of. Separate, together, loud, glorious, and besotted. Possessions of those someones with whom one is closely associated exude valor. Be a part of that.
How does imagery come alive? Reinterpret what’s in front of you. There may be no reason to care—only at first—but you do. In those crumbs is where magic resides. Whatever magic may mean to you. Unexpected and factual. If Rand didn’t make these things no one else would. Psychological potential exists beyond physicality. Some Small Fever is of kinds of flesh and bone, but beyond they are filled in with something else. A meeting of two galaxies kissed at all different entrances. Things change—don’t feel held down. You are a human. Juicy. What people are after is each their own. That journey needs to recognize the sides of all thoughts and acceptances. To reform and be present is a rebellious act. I AM HERE! I AM A PERSON. QUEER AND MAGNIFICENT! Maybe if only in my mind, but I see it in Rand’s work. That shout may be silent, but it is inside each frame, black and white.
Light emanates from inside the figures and forms. Look at the way skin looks. Sight your eyes and how you feel when you wonder what places play on environments you inhabit. We become comfortable or unsure. We are human. In rendering light Rand wants less misery. Joy is so possible. Separating ease from reactions and celebration is unacceptable. To create and exist in an outside world is beautiful.
It will reward you.
See more of Bryson Rand’s work by clicking here.