This is a project where I pay workers on Amazon's Mechanical Turk to review my art and website and pay them $5 dollars for 500 words. This is the 26th review I've received:
This art brings a
strange irony and a graceful satire to common dilemmas and nostalgias with
which we can all identify. Our search for connection, the challenge of finding
it in a fast-paced world that is more interested in stock prices than
straight-up conversation—all find a quiet, dignified voice in the photography
of Paul Shortt. Many of his projects are a series—a set of photos that all
portray a similar lostness, or, in the rarer case, sparks of connectivity, of
belonging, of home. Other projects are adventures in creativity, such as
hilarious new ways to say hello, all captured on candid film with their
laughing executors. The overriding message seems to be the penultimate quest of
the human soul—to find a place, to belong in it, to know oneself and find
others that will understand. At times we make of ourselves a spectacle, as seen
in the “Pillory for Market Place Mall” series, and at times we simply reminisce
on the people who created and shaped us, and the remaining symbols of
themselves they left behind, such as “The Car My Father Gave Me.” At other
points, Paul Shortt invites his participants to take time, to explore
themselves. He allows them to find out who they are, and, perhaps more
importantly, allows them to come away from the drudgery of their daily life and
make a sally into the realm of the undignified, but connected, life he offers.
Shortt also makes occasional forays into political and social commentary, as in
the “Please NO Photos” set. Additionally, there are also pieces the ways we comfort
ourselves, and how we can break out into a more realistic truth. For example,
how do you present yourself in a favorable light? You might not realize what
rose-colored glasses you wear for the mirror until you see Paul take them off
in “The Business of Selling Yourself.” A major advantage of Shortt's work is
his willingness to explore and expose his own flawed qualities in his art. The
casual viewer will laugh at the joke, but if you look a moment too long you
will turn away after your chuckle and wonder, “Am I like that? If I was really
honest with myself... what would I see?” When viewing all Shortt's photos, I
find myself knowing their subjects, including the artist himself. I realize
that the greatest moments of belonging, of connectedness, are sparked when we
let go of the rushing pace of our lives, and even let our dignity slip through
our fingers a little. When we look a little deeper into his art, we grasp the
irony of our efforts to keep it together. Real life is something for which we
must make time. Paul Shortt understands the human condition, and has the
imagination to explore its limits, its influence, and its expression. I rather
envy his participants the insights gained into themselves as they dredged up
their most cherished comfort zones to throw in the artistic fire.
