SALLY GALL
 

"For 30 years I have photographed the beauty and mystery of the natural world - its elemental and sometimes terrifying aspects, its silence, its persistence. To immerse viewers in a visceral and sensual contemplation of nature and our place within it, I have taken as subjects gardens, cultivated fields, swimmers, jet contrails and power lines, the twilight zone in caves, blossoming trees, and the ground level kingdom of things that creep and crawl. I photograph with an ever deepening appreciation for how this "place" shapes us, even as we shape it with our passage."

Sally Gall is a photographer living and working in New York City. In addition to her fine art career, she teaches photography, and works as an editorial and advertising landscape and lifestyle photographer. Her work is in numerous museum and corporate collections and she has been awarded several prestigious fellowships, which include two MacDowell Colony Fellowships and a Rockefeller Foundation Bellagio Residency.

Gall has published two books of photographs, The Waters Edge (Umbra Editions / Chronicle Books, 1995) with an essay on her work by writer James Salter, and Subterranea, (Umbrage Editions, 2005) with an essay on her work by two-time U.S. Poet Laureate Mark Strand. The Waters Edge is an anthology of photographs whose dominant theme is the interplay of water and not water. In Subterranea, she explores the "hidden" landscape of caves and the twilight zone between daylight and darkness.

Gall has a twenty five year history of solo and group shows at museums and galleries. She has had eight solo exhibitions with the Julie Saul Gallery, New York City, the most recent being "Unbound", which she describes below:

"Most of the time we experience the world with the horizon as our reference, our bodies bound to the earth by gravity. I wish to evoke the feeling of floating ungrounded, to transport the viewer to a place not bound by gravity, and to escape the constraint of our usual horizon-oriented experience.

In Unbound, clouds, airplanes, and contrails figure prominently. I imagine planes as poetic objects, heavy metal bodies which appear to float with ease. Clouds, which can contain literally tons of water, also appear weightless. Clouds, airplanes and contrails share the airspace we inhabit when we are unbound. If they can escape the constraints of gravity, why shouldn't we?"


CV