Of the eleven gifted veteran Chicago art photographers whose work is on display here, running the gamut of genres, techniques and sensibilities, Mary Rafferty’s in-your-face color punk portraits against white backgrounds of roller derby queens, Jane Alt’s wild color shots of swirling smoky controlled (you wouldn’t know it) forest burns, and Susan Annable’s edgy mysterious atmospheric black-and-white studies of indistinct subjects deserve special mention; but Jessica Tampas outpaces the pack with her large-format color, close-up head shots of cracked, scarred and broken one-hundred-year-old dolls that stare at you as though they were animated, beseeching you to connect with them. Since the still photograph freezes a moment in a specious present, the simulated little children could just as well be alive—one of them smiles eagerly, inviting a pat on the head; another is startled, begging to be comforted; and the last—almost broken to bits—looks so sad that you can hardly imagine what solace you might provide. Tampas calls her images self-portraits that tell the story of survival beyond adversity. The great American philosopher William James wrote of the “religion of the twice born,” an affirmation of life that has been tested by having touched the depths of existence; Tampas has that deeply mature faith big time. (Michael Weinstein)
Through June 14 at the Bridgeport Art Gallery, 1200 West 35th
Home Is Where the Family Is: A Review of Chicago Chiquito at Bridgeport Art Center This small but significant exhibition shows the history of Chicago Chiquito, or little Chicago, the nickname given to La Hacienda, a small town in the state of Guanajuato, Mexico. Its families have migrated north to find work for over one hundred years.
