2010 by Misha Ashton
Dotted around New York on postcards Ashton’s work is immediately compelling to the wandering eye, with luminosity countered by dark shadowy landscape. In her double exposure series she combines two images, often landscapes, in this case taken from Eastern Oregon and LA, and overlays them, creating a completely fictional and unreal prospect that remains haunted by its roots in reality. Ashton injects these compositions with fierce and intense colour; keeping to one palette, deep blues or fiery pinks and reds, colour is not overcomplicated but simply poignant in restrained comparison to the darkness of the silhouettes. The expanse of sky in this photo is dramatic, ranging from bright, almost natural blue in the top right-hand corner to more sultry tones in the centre, before finally fading to bright turquoise and luminous yellow at the horizon. The trees, with their eerily feathered ends tinged with green, line the strips of blind white that glow electrically across the sky, while the house is quietly translucent, also tinged with an acid green. This mysterious landscape is only made more so with the oversized shapes that are then projected onto the composition — the shadow of a window on the left, that the view escapes, and then the huge bottle that looms over the horizon ominously, monster-like with its protruding head. Double Exposed is an oddly created world; we are overwhelmed by the expanse and distance spread before us, only to have our expectations shot through the invasion of foreign objects.