Emmet Gowin’s American Family | The New Yorker

There is little drama in Gawain’s pictures, however, and any plot is sketchy or hidden. The elders here are generally the same people – stoic, patient, dressed as simply and modestly as possible. The four sisters, Fanny, Bernice, Gertrude and Edith’s mother Reva, posed in loose housecoats that they made from pretty printed plaids woven in cotton mills. This is a stylish photo without designer labels. Not surprisingly, the children in Gawain’s photo were the ones who sparked the spark. One of them, Amy, a blond child with a soft ponytail and a thin dress that looked like it might be stained, stood outside the porch door with her fists clenched and her mouth open, either angry or unhappy, or both. Another girl, Donna Jo, was standing apparently naked on the backyard lawn, holding several small round pieces of fruit still hanging from leafy branches, clutching them to her chest like trophies. Gawain states: “This is only the incarnation of Eve and the apple.” This is one of the most striking images in the book, and one of many that makes us aware of Gawain’s influence on Sally Mann.

On their own, the images in “Baldwin Street” remind us of the joys of looking and the rewards of living in this world. But again and again, Gawain’s words are both natural and sincere, allowing us to appreciate the vivid spirit behind his camera-savvy eye. A brief caption to a photo of Edith and her four children playing with “whips” on a summer lawn sums it up: “On the days when it happened, I probably took seven or eight rolls of film because I wanted to see a great flood.”