In Skate Park, photographer Arthur Tress begins by describing the park itself, presenting each curve and undulation of this concrete landscape as a sculptural work of art. Dreadlocks and tattoos appear shortly thereafter; tanned and leathery skin stretched tightly over the lean frames of young men competing for air and glory. Tress romanticizes their condition. Wheels become wings as they use gravity and momentum to launch a fleeting attempt at freedom. Each skater casts his shadow over the unforgiving surface below as he momentarily achieves weightlessness. Tress unapologetically presents an idealized and sometimes erotic representation of the male form. These photos ooze grit, glory and testosterone.

The photographer uses his medium format camera in a way that captures the energy of these gravity-defying athletes, using motion blur and a toy-camera aesthetic to emphasize the velocity and rotation of each trajectory. At times his subjects seem to engage the camera but in other instances the photographer becomes an anonymous and invisible observer. Careful attention is paid to the details of each skater's accessories, glamorizing the fashion aesthetic of the skatepark. Baggy pants, bling, ball caps and bushy hairstyles seem standard issue for those navigating this maze of concrete waves and chain link fence. While Tress dramatically captures these skaters upon their ascent, he gives equal attention to the hard landings. Bloody elbows, broken boards, and bandages hint at the physical sacrifice made for bragging rights. Most of these photos are taken under the reign of mid-day sun, adding an additional layer of intensity to the heat and sweat of the skatepark narrative. The artist masterfully frames and crops these images, sometimes masking the identity of the skater, but emphasizing the physicality of the sport.


Tress describes the skatepark as a male dominated arena governed by the laws of machismo and bravado. He simultaneously objectifies the male body, in many instances presenting these figures as if they were carved in stone by a Classical sculptor. The overtly masculine aura of this work is underscored by the complete lack of a female presence in any of the photographs - the only representation of a woman in this monograph appears as a topless mermaid in tattoo on the shoulder of one of Tress' subjects. One begins to wonder if the artist is celebrating or critiquing the patriarchal nature of the skatepark.

This 100-page volume includes 78 black and white photographs. The book and the images are square format, which represents a welcome departure from the typical rectangular photo book. The cover is wrapped in a black fabric and one of Tress' glossy images is fixed to its surface, making the exterior of this monograph just as sexy as its contents. While the narrative seems relatively superficial, this book will undoubtedly appeal to those who enjoy skateboarding, but it also celebrates masculinity and the beauty of the athletic male form in a way that can be appreciated by both sexes. As someone who fumbled around on a skateboard as a teenager, this album offered a nostalgic return to the wasted summer days of my youth. This collection of images will surely be treasured by photography lovers and those looking for a bit of eye candy. —Daniel W. Coburn