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| Copyright Lynn Johnson At the Children's Museum, Johnson exhibits images of activists who work against hate and intolerance. Among them is the late Fred Rogers, whom she photographed over 15 years, shown here in 1992 at Nantucket, one of his favorite places. |
Johnson is a nationally respected, Pittsburgh-based photojournalist whose unblinking and polished images were featured in LIFE magazine in its salad days and appear regularly in such publications as National Geographic, Sports Illustrated and the Natural Resources Defense Council's On Earth.
She talked this month about her exhibition "From Intolerance to Understanding," which opens Friday at Pittsburgh Filmmakers, Pittsburgh Center for the Arts and the Children's Museum of Pittsburgh.
"There is this kind of implied permission to act out against those who are different," Johnson says. "As dominant members of society, we don't feel that. For [those who aren't mainstream], it's an entirely different landscape."
The exhibition, and assorted complementary events, grew out of a project Johnson began five years ago when she entered, as a Knight Fellow, the School of Visual Communications at Ohio University, Athens.
She'd earned a bachelor's in photographic illustration and photojournalism at the Rochester Institute of Technology, New York, in 1975, and subsequently was employed by The Pittsburgh Press for seven years.
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"FROM INTOLERANCE TO UNDERSTANDING" |
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Exhibition run dates and events are different for each venue. Following are highlights. Further information is available from each location. |
Then she reached "a point of personal and professional crisis. I was watching serious and important work not get on the page. Is it the business? My lack of knowledge about something?"
She returned to school. Her fellowship required teaching, and her students challenged her.
"They forced me to look at my motivation, aesthetic, ethics, personal life, identity. There was no place to hide. I loved those [students]. That was a transforming experience."
While working on her master's in arts, on weekends Johnson traveled to Roanoke, Va., to photograph the aftermath of a hate-inspired shooting bout in a gay bar by the ironically named Ronald Gay, which left one person dead and several wounded.
Johnson witnessed the effects of a variety of prejudice-driven crimes during her career, including the notorious 1998 dragging death of African-American James Byrd Jr. in Texas, which she'd covered for LIFE (although a late-breaking story on the Columbine High School shootings kept the photos from publication).
Her master's thesis took form as a book about hate crimes.
There's an ongoing professional discussion about the role of the photo/journalist who's at a fire (or similar event): Does he or she help to put it out or stay on the sidelines, recording?
"I've reached a point in my life where it's not enough to watch it burn," says Johnson, who's 53.
The opportunity to take her thoughts public came when she was awarded a prestigious Documentary Photography Distribution Grant from the Open Society Institute of the Soros Foundations. The grants support innovative ways to create dynamic change in a community, Johnson says, noting that they were restructured last year to emphasize impact.
When she goes out on assignment for National Geographic, she says, "I will be the journalist. I will stand on the fringe."
But the exhibitions are her way of reaching out to a bigger and more diverse audience. It's the first time she's "stepped over that line very clearly into that activist role."
"It's a trend for documentary photographers. All the venues for socially aware photography, such as LIFE, are disappearing. They've been erased. Photographers are trying new things."
The images in the exhibition, whether shot before or after the theme began to take shape in Johnson's mind, were made within the guidelines of classic journalistic ethics, she says. "The dissemination of the information is the advocate role. What do you do with the material? How do you want to impact society?"
Central to her project, which is designed to travel, is the power of still photography. "We forget how powerful it is to sit with a single image before us -- that frozen moment about which you can be contemplative. You have to face it. It's not fleeting. That's why I'm such a believer in traditional photography, in documentary photography."
Contrast that with "the Hollywood version of a real traumatic experience. It's our way of coping and diminishing and holding at arm's length.
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| Copyright Lynn Johnson In 1998 James Byrd Jr., a black man, was chained to the back of a pickup truck and dragged to his death in Jasper County, Texas, by white supremacists. Photojournalist Lynn Johnson and a reporter covered the trial and community response, including residents carrying the Confederate flag, for LIFE magazine. LIFE pulled the story for one on the Columbine High School shootings. |
"Almost all the people who've done these [crimes] believe they were right -- that church or society condoned it in some way."
To defuse tension and give a constructive component to the project, Johnson presents a group of questions after every section to involve visitors. For example, "Do you think a place can be haunted by violence? Is everyone in your neighborhood safe? Do you and your friends talk about race?"
And some imagery, such as that at the Children's Museum, is positive, including photographs of the late Fred Rogers, whom Johnson covered for 15 years. Or those of Pittsburgh teacher Claudia Lepp's schoolroom, which includes several autistic children. "They can make a difference," Johnson says. "We can all make a difference if we grow up with a skill set."
There will be places for visitors to record their comments, which will become part of the project archives.
Although her work takes her around the globe and she could live anywhere, Johnson retains her home in the city in which she was born.
Johnson's father worked in administration at Carnegie Mellon University. She grew up in Squirrel Hill and earned her high school diploma at Winchester Thurston. Describing her parents as "extremely special people," Johnson adds that she was adopted. Just two years ago she located her birth mother and siblings, and a brother and a sister are planning to come from Seattle for the exhibitions' opening.
"This whole issue of identity is very much a part of this project," Johnson acknowledges.