Sandy Kim's photos would make great ads for Levi's, if her friends wore pants. In them they hang out, have messy sex, drink and get high, and puke. They are the cool kids. They are with the band. One pic of dozens of Kodak rolls scattered between her Levi's-free thighs suggests that Kim shoots a lot of film. The composition of her photos may be a bit happenstance, but they are colorful and exuberant, like the company she keeps, a post-Ginsburg beat-off generation running wild in the streets. Kim's an enfant terrible, perhaps, but no media whore, and the lack of biographical information beyond what her website conveys through images allows Kim to document her own life, from the blandly quotidian to profoundly intimate, without being Kardashian about it. Rather than seek celebrity or even provoke for provocation's sake, she earnestly and most certainly unapologetically does her thing, albeit in a fishbowl with complete transparency. Her thing just happens to be having the time of her life. It's the college experience you wish you had and now can experience vicariously, without consequences. You're finally in the club.
"Sandy Kim" starts at 7 p.m. (and continues through Oct. 5).