Deana Lawson Roxie and Raquel, New Orleans,

Louisiana 2010
B 1979 Rochester, New York, USA
Pigmented inkjet print
34 3/4 × 43 5/8 in. (88.3 × 110.8 cm)
Fund for the Twenty-First Century. 2011

Working closely with her subjects on setting, lighting, and pose, photographer Deana Lawson
creates intimate depictions of black bodies interacting in both public and private spaces. The
resulting images are formally rigorous in terms of composition—every detail is meticulous and
motivated—as well as suggestive of Lawson’s personal connection with those she photographs.
In Roxie and Raquel, New Orleans, Louisiana, two women—twin sisters—kneel in the center
of a wide bed, facing away from each other, their backs touching. Each raises one arm above
her head, gently touching her sister’s hand, in a choreographed posture evocative of a stylized
sculpture or a ritualistic, dancelike gesture. Both look toward the camera, but their expressions
are not identical, and indeed the entire image is a study in similarity and difference.
Paying careful attention to cropping and to richly meaningful domestic interiors, Lawson
has situated these twins in conversation with a series of doubled objects: two white curtains hang
in front of two windows, two black lamps sit on matching glass-topped tables at either side of
the bed. Yet she has also captured one of the paradoxes of twinning, as nothing is a mirror image
of its double—the two sconces on the wall, for instance, are off center, challenging the photograph’s
symmetry. Both women wear yellow tops, echoing the painted wall behind them, but their outfits
also reflect a contrast: one sister is dressed in a shiny skintight tank top and high heels, the
other in a more demure frilly blouse. The scattering of stuff on the tables, the rumpled sheet of
the slightly sagging bed, and the visible scrape that runs horizontally along the wall all contribute
to the viewer’s sense of being granted partial visual access to a truly inhabited room, glimpsing
the relationships that unfold within it. Yet rather than being presented as mythological or symbolic,
Roxie and Raquel are shown as specific and individuated, and their frank gazes at the viewer refuse
to capitulate to voyeurism.
Lawson often approaches strangers who catch her eye in stores or on the street and then
establishes relationships with them, cultivating the mutual trust that is crucial for her art. She has
said, “Many subjects have expressed that because I am a woman they have felt comfortable posing
for my camera. I am always honored and appreciative to be let in. I understand that it is a privilege.”
She draws on several traditions of photography, from vernacular snapshots to staged studio
portraiture to the work of other black women artists such as Carrie Mae Weems. Although she began
her career focusing on telling African-American stories through photographs, since 2013 she has
expanded her interest in black lives globally and has traveled to countries such as Ethiopia, Haiti,
and Jamaica. Regardless of where her photographs are taken, saturated color continues to be a
signature feature of Lawson’s practice, and in Roxie and Raquel the multiple yellows, whites,
and blacks in the scene come together in a complex and compelling picture of family dynamics.

Julia Bryan-Wilson

270 271
Deana Lawson Roxie and Raquel, New Orleans,
Louisiana 2010
B 1979 Rochester, New York, USA
Pigmented inkjet print
34 3/4 × 43 5/8 in. (88.3 × 110.8 cm)
Fund for the Twenty-First Century. 2011

Working closely with her subjects on setting, lighting, and pose, photographer Deana Lawson
creates intimate depictions of black bodies interacting in both public and private spaces. The
resulting images are formally rigorous in terms of composition—every detail is meticulous and
motivated—as well as suggestive of Lawson’s personal connection with those she photographs.
In Roxie and Raquel, New Orleans, Louisiana, two women—twin sisters—kneel in the center
of a wide bed, facing away from each other, their backs touching. Each raises one arm above
her head, gently touching her sister’s hand, in a choreographed posture evocative of a stylized
sculpture or a ritualistic, dancelike gesture. Both look toward the camera, but their expressions
are not identical, and indeed the entire image is a study in similarity and difference.
Paying careful attention to cropping and to richly meaningful domestic interiors, Lawson
has situated these twins in conversation with a series of doubled objects: two white curtains hang
in front of two windows, two black lamps sit on matching glass-topped tables at either side of
the bed. Yet she has also captured one of the paradoxes of twinning, as nothing is a mirror image
of its double—the two sconces on the wall, for instance, are off center, challenging the photograph’s
symmetry. Both women wear yellow tops, echoing the painted wall behind them, but their outfits
also reflect a contrast: one sister is dressed in a shiny skintight tank top and high heels, the
other in a more demure frilly blouse. The scattering of stuff on the tables, the rumpled sheet of
the slightly sagging bed, and the visible scrape that runs horizontally along the wall all contribute
to the viewer’s sense of being granted partial visual access to a truly inhabited room, glimpsing
the relationships that unfold within it. Yet rather than being presented as mythological or symbolic,
Roxie and Raquel are shown as specific and individuated, and their frank gazes at the viewer refuse
to capitulate to voyeurism.
Lawson often approaches strangers who catch her eye in stores or on the street and then
establishes relationships with them, cultivating the mutual trust that is crucial for her art. She has
said, “Many subjects have expressed that because I am a woman they have felt comfortable posing
for my camera. I am always honored and appreciative to be let in. I understand that it is a privilege.”
She draws on several traditions of photography, from vernacular snapshots to staged studio
portraiture to the work of other black women artists such as Carrie Mae Weems. Although she began
her career focusing on telling African-American stories through photographs, since 2013 she has
expanded her interest in black lives globally and has traveled to countries such as Ethiopia, Haiti,
and Jamaica. Regardless of where her photographs are taken, saturated color continues to be a
signature feature of Lawson’s practice, and in Roxie and Raquel the multiple yellows, whites,
and blacks in the scene come together in a complex and compelling picture of family dynamics.

Julia Bryan-Wilson

270 271