Helping hands

Maria Muller's hand-painted moments

by Leon Nigrosh

MARIA MULLER: HAND-COLORED PHOTOGRAPHS At the Fletcher/Priest Gallery, 5 Pratt Street, through May 7.

No matter whether it's the first time or the tenth time, the physical reaction you experience the moment the The Wizard of Oz went from black-and-white to color is the same feeling you get when you see Maria Muller's hand-colored photographs. Muller has elevated this medium well beyond the Ted Turner-style colorization used by many photographers to punch up often weak material. Her color choice and use propel her mundane subjects into the realm of dreamy surrealism.

Twenty-two of Muller's works, currently on display at the Fletcher/Priest Gallery, are separated into three broad series. One grouping exposes kitchen-related items in a new and fanciful light. A close-up of a dish rack rendered in yellow with a lone wire each of red and blue is at once a portrait of a particular object and a linear abstraction in primary colors. A phalanx of shallow bowls in mauve with delicate red rims exudes a Zen-like attitude of peacefulness. And two extreme close-up views of a French colander bring forth an appreciation for the precision alignment of myriad tiny holes.

It is her unique method of presentation that makes her pictures so intriguing. She started making handcolored photos in 1980 and has worked exclusively in this medium since then. Muller uses infra-red film to photograph her subjects to capture the widest possible range of texture and detail. She then fills in the black-and-white prints with oil paint, using tiny sable brushes and cotton swabs. The paints are carefully blotted with tissue, leaving only the thinnest transparency of tone on the photo surface. The resulting image has lost none of its textural impact but gained a profusion of unexpected hues.

Muller does not try to re-create reality but takes her subjects into a new, dreamlike territory. Images from her footwear series at first appear to be just ordinary shots of shoes, socks, and boots. But the unusual colors immediately raise questions. Yellow socks clash with red-strapped Dr. Scholl sandals, purple Birkenstocks clash with multicolored knee socks, and pink wingtips on a green rug. What were these people thinking?

The fact that Muller does not use any titles further helps to create an air of mystery about her work. What are we to think when we see a pair of nicely pedicured women's feet in sandals in front of a pink commode? When used on the show invitation, this picture prompted several irate phone calls to the gallery. As shy and unassuming as the artist is, this is just the sort of reaction she can appreciate. Instead of simply telling us everything, Muller encourages viewers to take an active interest in trying to divine the meanings and stories behind each photograph -- even if the conclusions are different from her original intent.

The impact of her imaginative colorings achieves its greatest effect in images drawn from Muller's trip to Spain. Because we are so familiar with streets, skies, and skin tones, these pictures appear plucked from some obscure Fellini film. We catch a young couple smooching in the shadows of a dim alleyway, but they become a secondary element to the picture because Muller has painted a sliver of sunlight in prismatic rainbow colors. In another photo a man and a woman are talking into separate phones at a kiosk, oblivious to three young men engaged in conversation standing nearby. But because Muller has accented every single tile in the mosaic floor, the figures are firmly anchored and have become forever frozen in time.

None of the photo images are manipulated in any way, no flopped or sandwiched negatives, no darkroom trickery. Because of this, the most entrancing of Muller's images in this exhibit is the one of a Moorish plaza with well-maintained walls and tended plants; its silence broken only by a white dove caught swooping in flight. Muller has captured a fleeting moment of reality and turned it into a dream.

The Fletcher/Priest Gallery is open Wednesday and Thursday from noon to 6 p.m. and by appointment. Call 791-5929.