Milton and Anne Rogovin: A Labor of Love delves into the Working People, Appalachia, and Family of Miners series by Milton Rogovin (1909–2011), a photographer whose lens captured not only individuals but the bonds between them and their places. While Rogovin’s perspective was undoubtedly shaped by his own experiences as a child of the Great Depression, this work is also a collaborative endeavor. His wife, Anne, played a critical, often unspoken role, building the trust and friendships that allowed for these intimate exchanges to unfold. Together, they created images that aren’t simply portraits—they’re testimonies to shared humanity, resilience, and community.

In these black-and-white images, we see the lives and landscapes of Appalachia not as isolated or bleak, but as spaces full of community. Rogovin’s portraits focus on connection rather than protest, depicting people who share a collective identity, a commitment to place, and an enduring spirit, despite hardship. The resulting images feel both timeless and strikingly relevant, especially in today’s conversations around labor, environment, and community.

Rogovin’s approach also challenges traditional notions of photographic authorship. These works weren’t created in isolation; they are the products of “we”—the subjects, the photographer, his wife, and the communities around them. This inclusive lens offers a fresh way to engage with documentary photography, one that respects the agency of the sitter and recognizes the relationships that shape each photograph.

With this presentation of works recently gifted to the permanent collection, this exhibition invites viewers to look through a broader, more inclusive lens, considering the “we” behind each image and the role of community, both in Appalachia and within the realm of social documentary photography. How does Rogovin’s empathy translate into his portraits today? How can these images of shared life and labor resonate with our current era, one still grappling with environmental and economic challenges? Through these questions and Rogovin’s unyielding gaze, we’re reminded that the past, however distant, still speaks powerfully to the present.