`Reflections' reflects African-American life
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"Reflections in Black: A History of Black Photographers, 1840 to the Present"
by Deborah Willis
Norton, $50
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For more than a century, according to Deborah Willis, curator of photography at the Smithsonian, black photographers deliberately used their work to counter prevailing racial stereotypes and enhance racial pride. Her monumental portfolio of photographs by these artists, studio owners and itinerant "painters with light" does more than counter stereotypes; it defies attempts to generalize about its subject.
People in this arresting collection of pictures are caught up in all kinds of ordinary pursuits - reading, working, dining, marrying, praying, talking, playing games, posing in lovely clothes, getting haircuts, making music or speeches or dinner - in a spirited, generally trustful relationship with the camera.
Clearly Willis' criterion as she selected photographs was, as she says in the text, "expressive power." Still, many Americans viewing these pictures are likely to bring to the experience the same old images of slavery, Civil Rights marches, and past or present media caricatures of black life that they've drawn from school and popular culture all their lives.
Perhaps the delightful photographs of children in the book will take on ominous overtones because we know of future trials the childish mind can't predict. But such a reaction can keep us from realizing that what's on the child's mind may be partly the point.
For example, two Boston children have been posed in front of ornate ironwork, wearing starched lace dresses (it's 1910) and starched bows in their hair. They look beautiful - and stiff, and miserable! Good little girls, they've let Mother dress them up today, but they seem to want to tear off those enormous bows, jump the iron fence and tumble around on the grass like anyone else their age.
Another example: Malcolm X crouches to hold his two daughters in his arms. He's talking to little Attallah, his eyes warmly upon her. But she turns away from her father's handsome face to stare unhappily at the audience, as if asking us just to go away for a change and give her some private time with Dad.
If the original vitality in these photographs can't keep us from calling up the preconceptions we carry around with us, this may actually be useful. The book's very freshness about what seems familiar makes us realize how old and worn-out our assumptions can be. Thus the photographs can (as Willis says in her introduction) "create a new . . . historical consciousness that has the power to rewrite history itself."
But "Reflections in Black" is more than a documentary that can provoke useful debates within ourselves and between groups interpreting past or present culture. It shows that despite their commonalities, black photographers have a long history of debating with each other. Is their medium an art or an engine of social progress? Should photography make mementos for its subjects or involve and change its viewers? The competing purposes and conflicting angles of vision represented in the book are part of what makes it fascinating.
Best of all, the book is marvelous for simply wandering and wondering through: A remarkable series by a photographer who eventually lived in Seattle presents a man in three poses - seated for his formal portrait, then hanged for murder and finally laid out in his coffin. Women in the book are gloriously unpredictable. Billie Holliday rehearsing with Count Basie looks like a '50s coed in sweater, plaid skirt and ponytail. Zora Neale Hurston smiles like an angel instead of with her usual impish brass.
Men? No two are alike. A nattily dressed man waits at a bright window, fedora tipped up to let in the view, papers gleaming mysteriously in the background. A lined, leathery cowboy smokes a cigarette, his arms roped with tendons. Seattle's own Jacob Lawrence looks like a serious man at 20 and equally serious midway through his life, midway up a stepladder, in reverie. Elsewhere, a lonely stony beach caresses the eye with dark grays and liquid silver. And beside a brick building draped with a gigantic sky-blue banner painted with the face of Malcolm X, a black cowboy rides through a golden field.