If you have never seen Sugimoto's work and you have an interest in conceptual art and photography, you are in for a treat. As he says, his work is all about time and what better way to show time than through a photograph. Beautifully produced, this book hints at the depth of the original large format images that can now be seen at a retrospective at San Francisco's de Young museum.
The book begins with his portraits in a wax museum and dioramas from New York's Museum of Natural History. All of his photographs are made with large format camera and the detail is exquisite. Conceptually, the camera gazes upon reproduction figures that are perhaps better than life itself, arranged like sculpture. The meaning of these objects (and places) becomes a recurring theme in his work that ultimately questions the medium itself. Real fiction.
The highlight of the book in my estimation are the minimalist sea landscapes that capture light and question time -- they are devoid of a decisive moment. These images are absolutely spellbinding in person and, for a book, the reproduction is very good.
The weakest part are photographs made by Sugimoto of blurred buildings, which take on a toy like scale, again questioning the reality of the original object. The selection of which building is clearly important, but the execution just isn't as exciting or masterful as the other work in this book. This is a very difficult area and very few photographers have pulled it off (try David Armstrong: All Day Every Day also available at Amazon)
Conceptually, the mathematical models, created in the late 1800's and early 1900's are fascinating. The ultra-resolution of the view camera shows the human hand in creation, where slight imperfections cast shadows of scratches made by the makers, as well as students and teachers. The poetry of pure math meets visual realism.
The finale are the photographs of movie theaters, each image exposed for the duration of the movie. The screen is a brilliant white (hinting at the experience of light from a movie), pouring out into the architecture of the theater or the surroundings of the drive-in landscaping. One of my favorites, from Union City, California, shows traces of light in the sky from passing aircraft -- a Zen-like experience of the passing of time that hints at an ancient haiku about the traces left by geese on snow.