Jason John Wurm’s photographs are an understated document of life as it truly is. There is no glamour, bling, fabulousness, there is only ordinariness, banality, everyday monotony. Wurm has travelled the length and breadth of America taking pictures of people going about their business, sitting around, trying to life live as well they can, get on, move forward.
On initial viewing there isn’t much to look at, it is a surface we are all familiar with however with a little time and thought you begin to understand the depth to which Wurm goes. These pictures are a reality check, they are a reminder of the wreckage the free market economy and its prophets have inflicted upon us as Carl Gunhouse eloquently put it:
Wurm’s work on first inspection reads like something out of a book of visual theory that might use words like simulacra or appropriation. But what this kind of academic thinking misses is that the world in front of his camera lacks any kind of a life worth living. Things are broken, people are alone, and luxuries are rendered as flat, shallow replacements for happiness. Wurm’s work very pointedly encapsulates a national mood, adrift with little hope for rescue.
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