This gorgeous oversized book (I don't have a coffee table) presents Bitesnich's unique view of the human form. Somehow, as that cover photo shows, he uses utterly literal renderings of figure to create mysterious abstractions. Many, like the set for which Guilia and Maria posed, offer at least three visual layers. The first layer exposes living curves of shoulder, arm, or other part in isolation. Light and dark play over the organic complexity, but the angles and curves don't yet merge together into anatomy that makes sense. In the second layer, the parts combine to form baffling wholes. Unusual poses, often taut and enclosed on themselves, show one or two bodies in unfamiliar perspectives and juxtapositions. Then, in the third depth, the viewer discovers the person within the image - just a person, with all the usual parts, even if the view isn't a familiar one.
Bitesnich covers a wider range of models than many photographers do. Men appear almost as often as women. Couples appear, too, adding more geometric possibilities. His photos of Dagmar show that beauty transcends the moment's fashionable looks; she radiates as much physical power as the male bodybuilders, but a power of uniquely womanly kind. And, perhaps best of all, Bitesnich works across a range of skin tones, from the palest to the glossiest darks. This contrast fascinates me. Light interacts differently with surfaces of different tone, so that lighter forms seem defined by their shadows, but deep-toned figures seem defined by their highlights. A few times, he even works with middle skin tones where both effects come into play.
I'm convinced that human vision evolved with an innate sensitivity to human forms; for example, scientific research suggests that babies are born preprogrammed to respond to faces. Bitesnich taps into that deep, wordless force within the viewer's mind. Then he uses that in a wonderful sense of play, as in the pictures of Irina, or simple and monumental tributes to the human animal.
-- wiredweird