Finding Tenderness in Post-War America
America, Men, and, you guessed it, Tenderness converge in Laura Wexler’s photographs of tree-shaded, picket-fenced microcosms that are the Boston suburbs of her childhood. Fathers come home to children, men chop wood in undershirts, boys ride on bikes, and boys play ball, all semi-obscured by low hanging branches, roofs, brambles, or the occasional telephone pole. The gentle stuff of suburbia almost makes you forget that it is 1968: America in the midst of Vietnam and a year of assassinations. In black and white depictions of the places she grew up, a twenty year old Wexler captures the subtle, precarious magic of humans in their home away from the city, away from the mad mad, post-World War II world.