Peter Granser

NEVER HILLARY. This amazing bit of found poetry is actually the inescapable message of a large billboard set on a country road deep in the heart of Texas. It was captured by photographer Peter Granser during his recent exploration of the American state that has, over the last eight years, become synonymous with the conservative hegemony of George W. Bush. There can be no doubt about who is not wanted here.
On the heels of his acclaimed first books, Sun City (2003) and Coney Island (2006), Granser's newest offering, Signs, draws a telling picture of life today in America. For it, Granser traveled 12,000 miles through the "republic" of Texas. With keen and objective precision, he focuses in his color photographs on the plethora of relics and signs that proliferate across the landscape and provide us with insights into the strange and contradictory state of contemporary American identity.

Peter Granser, who lives in Stuttgart, Germany, commutes to the U.S. for work: his two previous books of photographs, Sun City (2003) and Alzheimers (2005) observe aging and illness among preternaturally prosperous and tan American retirees. Coney Island brings his gaze to an outpost of retro beach culture and economic decay that may be better known in Europe than at home. With precise, witty color, he captures the morbid charm of "America's Playground" on the Brooklyn beachfront, with its dilapidated amusement parks, made famous long ago in the black-and-white work of Diane Arbus, Weegee, and Bruce Gilden. Granser's more recent tours, for which he has already received the Leica Oskar-Barnack Award, found sweaty beach bums and sailors in drag, shabby snack bars and rusty roller coasters, and recorded them all with a sympathetic eye to the aura of splendor gone seedy. "Recruiting Station" shows the rundown Army recruiter's shack that stands in front of Nathan's Hot Dogs, home of the annual hot-dog eating contest. Nearby, he captures hipsters in knee socks and oversized sunglasses, and a view of the beach from an amusement-park ride high above it, with bathers small as dots.