Matthew Genitempo: “Dogbreath”

Photobook Reviews, Episode 11 – by Kate Schultze

Photo books on the theme of growing up and navigating life as an adolescent have a special place in my heart, probably because the feeling of shared struggle and confusion creates immediate intimacy. We’ve talked about Kleinstadt by the German photographers Ute and Werner Mahler before on here. Now I’m gonna move away from Germany, to the sweltering heat of Tucson, Arizona where Mathew Genitempo’s new book Dogbreath, published by Trespasser in 2024, is set. A 2024 favourite of many photo book enthusiasts.

Dogbreath is a photobook that captures the agitated spirit of adolescence set against the heat and concrete of Tucson, Arizona.  It offers an enigmatic and psychologically rich portrayal of youth on the edge, weaving together images of urban decay, sun-bleached neighborhoods, mosh pits, and punk teenagers alongside their wild dog counterparts. Interspersed throughout the book are elliptical texts about a mysterious boy named Dove, who muses on underground pagans, scrap salvaging, and the quest for gold. Through its evocative visuals and enigmatic storytelling, Dogbreath sympathetically explores the lives of teenagers navigating an uneasy and ever-changing world, lingering in the liminal space of their fading adolescence.

To me Dogbreath combines a lot of classic photography techniques to create a uniquely intimate yet uneasy atmosphere. The images are in black and white, supposedly following the approach of classic American documentary photography, such as Mark Steinmetz. But taking a closer look to me the contrast between their softness and peculiarities becomes clearer and clearer. The unfocused washing covering 80% of the image hanging outside a focused house. The contrast between the conservatively composed portrait of a woman carrying her shopping and the dynamic snapshot (supposedly) of a boy mid throw. The unusual cropping. Photographs of screens and the snippets of text about a boy named Dove support the agitated yet mystical atmosphere.

Lastly I wanna draw some attention to the gorgeous production of this photobook. Trespasser, a publishing house co-owned by Bryan Schutmaat and Mathew Genitempo himself, have always paid a great attention to detail. The book itself is huge. The warm uncoated paper the perfect combination with the low-contrast black and white images. You can practically feel the sun burning down on you going through the book. I highly recommend checking out their other titles, who all use a similar language of image making.

A friend said to me the other day, “this book is one for the photographers” and even though I can’t exactly pin down what that means, I agree.