Frank Yamrus, Untitled (Fountain), 2008

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Frank Yamrus is a lovely man and a successful photographer. His bodies of work range from figurative studies in the sands and marshes of Provincetown (“Primitive Behavior”) to lightly phallic, still life studies of clear, plastic bottles (“Rune Lagu”). Portraits of men and women at the moment of orgasm (“Rapture”) may be his most notorious.

The distilled quality of the images in “Rune Lagu” seemed like a point of full resolution for the artist, an ending point. Where do you go from here? After what seems to have been a break of sorts, the answer comes with the publication of “I Feel Lucky.” Yamrus shows us that he has been taking measure of himself as a man and as an artist. This culmination of several years’ work is his discreet and dignified search for purpose and meaning in life.

“You're out of time, you're out of place / Look at your face / That's the measure of a man …” *1

People are unlikely to confuse Frank Yamrus with Rocky Balboa, which is not to deny either of them their fullness. Like Rocky, Yamrus is no dumb, striving palooka, although he is more likely to be found inside the Philadelphia Museum of Art rather than running up and down its steps.

Let’s look at Yamrus, the lover, not the fighter and his first self-portraits for the “Lucky” series. In his introduction, he remarks that "to look in the mirror in self-examination is one thing, but it's quite another to put your body on film and blow it up for mass consumption, as if he'd self-detonate. These may have begun literally with Yamrus studying his reflection with a magnifying glass, but it ends with a broader view. As “Untitled (Art)” demonstrates, Yamrus ultimately sees himself as we do: a handsome survivor. Whatever might have stopped him has not. Like Rocky, he is an ongoing work in progress. Here, we witness that he has more than held his own and in the end, appears unscathed and even stronger, less battered and bruised than Rocky.

What clearly distinguishes this new body of work is its calm. It is quiet, not insistent. It is so absolutely still. Yamrus does not seem to be a man in anguish or in an emotional mid-life crisis. He is thoughtful, curious, bemused, somewhat weary, but centered and at ease. As the protagonist in his own stagings, Yamrus is wry, relaxed, and seems to be more happy than sad. He is present in these images, with a self-consciousness artfully managing the dreaded unnaturalness of being photographed. He may not have known where he was going, but he thought to bring along his camera and to serve as his own best conspirator.

The images in “I Feel Lucky,” like much of Yamrus’ early work, reflect his deep affection for Provincetown, Massachusetts and the comfort it affords him. The space, the sand, the water, and the light embrace him. “Untitled (Sunset)” is a natural starting point, the first of dozens of self-portraits made in Provincetown. With the wild spectrum of sky at his back, Yamrus appears apprehensive, questioning what’s next. It is all a little soft, and we can make what we will of the shovel.

As with “Untitled (Sunset)” and each of the images that follow, it is difficult to know how "staged" the work is. Some images seem like quick takes, sketches or impressions, and others have a deep range and complexity. “Untitled (Boo Boo)” gives us a strong sense of the artist's wit, even his silliness in a moment that appears to be spontaneous. Yamrus is carrying on for himself and for us. There is some dread in these images but not terror. What is, is.

On the other hand, there is a brilliance in the set-up of “Untitled (Kitty)”, informed by Yamrus’ acute visual imagination. Like many of these images, this one is a smart, funny, charming self-portrait of an artist who is not only sensitive to his own history but other histories, photography itself. The photographer is photographing the photographer and his photographs; he makes our eye dart around the frame.

“Untitled (Playground)” is a successfully subversive combination of elements. He certainly realizes there is a small child behind him and that this image would lend itself to a range of possible readings. The movement and composition of the picture gives it an impulsive, unplanned feeling, rendering the image all the more dark and enigmatic.

“Untitled (Fountain)” may be the most delightful of these staged scenes, referencing Bruce Nauman and Duchamp. In this image, Yamrus slyly and knowingly peers at us with his right eye. The naughtiness that led him to convince all those individuals during the “Rapture” series to pleasure themselves to the point of release in front of his camera shines through “Untitled (Fountain)” and offers up his fresh sense of mischief. “Untitled (Kiss)” has a similar shrewdness and silliness in the surreal placement of the newspaper “lips” in front of his face.

Throughout the “Lucky” work, Yamrus peoples his photographs not only with himself — these are after all self-portraits — but also with longtime partners, friends, and the departed. Yamrus uses these figures to create a photographic back story of his relationships with those around him, not so carnal as they are comfortable, remembered and imagined. These figures are pivotal to Yamrus’ everyday life. As the work reveals, his memories live in the present but they don’t haunt him. Nor are the ruminations behind this series wrought with neurotic tension. Instead, Yamrus appears to be carefully taking measure, documenting the struggles, joys and incongruity in his life.

Although some of Yamrus’ images reflect a natural part of the human condition, others are difficult to comprehend. How are we to reconcile the gay man in “Untitled (Red)” and “Untitled (Company)” with the morning-after lover in “Untitled (Daybreak)” or the father in “Untitled (Brooke)”?

Hopefully these images do not need to be illustrated in these pages but can be conjured up in the reader’s imagination based on the titles.

Furthermore, he gives us “Untitled (Fetish)”. How are we meant to react to that title? Yamrus is very tuned in to how complicated we are as individuals; we exist in many realities. These are facets to his multi-dimensional self-portrait. These are the “measures of a man” in his creation.

“Untitled (Dad)” combines the dimensions of reality and fantasy effectively. The figure in the snapshot is less important than our sense that Yamrus’ search for meaning is entirely framed in this mirror. It is an image of reflection, handsomely and thoughtfully composed.

The six years it took Yamrus to make “I Feel Lucky” don't chronicle a highly defined sequence, nor could they be expected to. That said, the series is of a piece. What is ambiguous yet telling is the ongoing and unpredictable nature of the investigation and the imagination, the conceptualizing and the actual making of images.

The celebration in “Untitled (Cake)” reminds us that the search has its reward. Playful but serious, Yamrus looms in gigantic form over a tiny cake. Although an illusion, the scale ultimately feels real and intimate.

The “I Feel Lucky” work is disarming and savory. Yamrus’ senses are in high gear. He sees, he feels, and in this life’s work, his photographs behave as a caesura does in music: like the swelling note in the middle of the musical phrase, “I Feel Lucky” is a suspended moment that prepares us for more wonders to come. Yamrus is good.

And he is lucky.

*1 Lyric by Alan Menken from “Rocky V” soundtrack (1990).

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