Sandra Gilbert, St. Gabriel, Louisiana 15 - 2000

Curator: Stepping into this gallery space, we encounter Deborah Luster’s poignant photograph, "Sandra Gilbert, St. Gabriel, Louisiana," created between 15-2000. The artwork is presented as a gelatin-silver print. Editor: What immediately strikes me is the somber quality, almost a sepia dream floating on the surface. Her dark, knowing eyes framed by that enormous hat evoke the heat of a Louisiana summer day. Curator: Indeed, Luster has a remarkable gift for capturing stillness—there’s a quiet resistance that emanates from her portraits, challenging mainstream portrayals. St. Gabriel itself holds particular weight, as the location of Louisiana's only state prison for women. Editor: Yes, and situating Sandra within St. Gabriel connects her visually to layered histories—histories of forced labor, carceral punishment, and enduring dignity. Look closely at that hat; its delicate weave offers a sense of protection but also subtly alludes to her labor within broader economic structures. It also makes a strong iconic shape on a very minimal picture plain. Curator: Luster’s approach blends artistic sensibility with social commentary. By using a turn-of-the-century process, Luster connects past with present injustice, drawing clear connections to late-nineteenth-century portraiture—in so doing the artist demands space for those written out of our own present. The subjects are recast as powerful, ennobled even. Editor: Absolutely. The use of gelatin-silver allows for such textural depth. This visual richness resists a singular, flattening narrative; she’s rendered as an individual. It evokes ideas around visibility and erasure, asking us to deeply consider our modes of seeing, and more importantly, who we choose to see. Curator: There is the inescapable recognition that the system hasn't changed all that much in over a hundred years. It reminds us of the work that’s still very urgent. Editor: Exactly. Her gaze lingers; I will carry it with me long after I've left the gallery.