Twilight, the witching hour — that tantalising moment on the cusp of day and night when everything seems strange, poignant and full of possibilities. It is a gift to the photographer, whose raw material is light: its shifting subtleties, its evanescence, its poetic potential. The V&A has collected in this exhibition the work of eight contemporary photographers from around the world who have made twilight their subject. Like all the best ideas it seems strikingly obvious, yet it has apparently not been done before.
Just off the bustle of the V&A’s entrance foyer, the exhibition offers a twilight zone, an area of stillness suffused with dim blue light. Each artist’s work is grouped in a separate chamber, so you wander between twilight worlds, some of the imagination, some of harsh reality. The American Gregory Crewdson has subverted the banality of suburbia, investing it with mystery, even with revelation — not qualities one normally associates with the nondescript streets and parking lots of the urban hinterland.
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