Sally Mann has photographed scenes from the South for decades and her passion comes through when looking at them. In one of her more recent books, Deep South, she doesn’t give us some nostalgic, rose-colored vision of the South. Instead, we get a blatantly honest look at how she sees her own homeland, warts and all. She openly recognizes the deep racist heritage that emanated from the region. But she sees the beauty in the region as well. She was born in the South, educated there, and settled there after graduation. She knows the region for sure. All of this comes across in her book, which has been out for almost eight years now.
Another thought that occurs to me as I leaf through the pages. She uses an ancient 8 X 10 camera to produce most of her work, which reinforces the notion that it’s not the camera which publishes compelling images. What counts is the imagination of the photographer. The beauty of the region is apparent, and I’d love to travel there. I enjoyed the book but would probably appreciate even more the larger prints made from the images.
As I look over some of her best known images, it’s clear Sally Mann photographs what she knows and loves best. The result are intimate portraits of things close to her, primarily her children, her husband, her farm and her animals. She clearly loves the farm.
But after studying the images, I have to wonder if they would have had the same appeal if she had traveled to someone else’s farm and photographed someone else’s animals, landscapes, husband, or children. It’s clear she has a deep love and passion for what she knows best, and for that reason, I am uncertain that she would have had as much success photographing some place else.