Russell Lee, a contemporary of Walker Evans and Dorothea Lange, now emerges from the shadows as one of the most influential documentary photographers in American history. The most prolific photographer of the Great Depression, Russell Lee has never been canonized for his iconic images. With this compulsively readable and definitive biography, historian and archivist Mary Jane Appel finally uncovers Lee’s rebellious life, tracing his journey from blue-blood beginnings to intrepid years of activism and pioneering creativity, through the incredible body of work he left behind. Born in the quintessential turn-of-the-century small town of Ottawa, Illinois, in 1903, Lee grew up in a wealthy family riddled with tragedy. He trained in college to become a chemical engineer, but was quickly drawn to Greenwich Village, where he developed an interest in social change and the arts. In 1935, the charismatic bohemian picked up a camera and a year later walked into the office of Roy Stryker, head of the Historical Section of the Resettlement Administration, later renamed the Farm Security Administration (FSA), setting in motion a new life trajectory. The Historical Section aimed to capture rural poverty and the New Deal programs designed to abolish it. But Stryker imagined a much broader pictorial sourcebook for America, and no one on his legendary team—including Dorothea Lange, Walker Evans, and Gordon Parks, among others—would be more dedicated to reaching this goal than Russell Lee. As Appel demonstrates, Stryker and Lee developed a fascinating symbiotic relationship that resulted in a massive and complex breadth of work. Living out of his car from the fall of 1936 to mid-1942, Lee crisscrossed America’s back roads more than any photographer of his era. During this time, he shot 19,000 negatives that were captioned and printed—more than twice that of any other FSA photographer. He captured arresting images of sweeping dust storms and devastating floods, and chronicled the World War II home front and the last gasp of a small-town America that was inexorably vanishing, all the while focusing prophetically on issues like segregation and climate change, decades before they became national concerns. Meticulously weaving previously unseen letters and diaries, Appel brilliantly reveals why Lee’s profile has remained obscured, while his contemporaries became broadly celebrated. With more than 100 images spread throughout, Russell Lee speaks not only to the complexity of a pioneering documentary photographer’s work but to a seminal American moment captured viscerally like never before.

Russell Lee is widely acclaimed as one of the most outstanding documentary photographers of the twentieth century. His images of American life during the Great Depression, created for the Farm Security Administration between 1936 and 1942, hold a preeminent place in one of history's best-known and most useful photographic collections. This famous body of work demonstrates Lee's extraordinary ability to reveal the humanity of his subjects and to become a part of the communities he photographed. It also displays Lee's superior technical ability—his legendary skill in using a flash enabled Lee to create some of the finest candids in the history of photography. Russell Lee Photographs is the first book to show the full range and quality of Lee's entire oeuvre beyond the FSA work, as well as the first major publication of his photographs since F. Jack Hurley's 1978 book, Russell Lee: Photographer (long out of print). The book contains over 140 images, 101 of which have never appeared in book publication. The photographs are grouped into suites of images that represent all of Lee's important, non-FSA subjects: early work from New York City and Woodstock; the Spanish-speaking people of Texas; the mentally and physically disabled; political campaigns, including the Kennedy-Johnson campaign of 1960; commercial work for chemical and other companies; a portfolio of images of Italy; and quintessential scenes of small-town life. Setting Lee's images in context are a foreword by John Szarkowski, one of America's leading photography curators and critics, and an introduction by Lee's friend and fellow photography educator J. B. Colson, who offers fascinating personal insights into Lee's life and career. Considering Russell Lee's stature in American photography, it is surprising that much of his post-FSA work is unknown to the public and has been seldom seen even in the photography community. By making these images readily available for the first time, this book gives long-overdue recognition to the full range and excellence of Lee's work. Russell Lee Photographs is the essential book on this major American photographer.

Russell Lee, a contemporary of Walker Evans and Dorothea Lange, now emerges from the shadows as one of the most influential documentary photographers in American history. The most prolific photographer of the Great Depression, Russell Lee has never been canonized for his iconic images. With this compulsively readable and definitive biography, historian and archivist Mary Jane Appel finally uncovers Lee’s rebellious life, tracing his journey from blue-blood beginnings to intrepid years of activism and pioneering creativity, through the incredible body of work he left behind. Born in the quintessential turn-of-the-century small town of Ottawa, Illinois, in 1903, Lee grew up in a wealthy family riddled with tragedy. He trained in college to become a chemical engineer, but was quickly drawn to Greenwich Village, where he developed an interest in social change and the arts. In 1935, the charismatic bohemian picked up a camera and a year later walked into the office of Roy Stryker, head of the Historical Section of the Resettlement Administration, later renamed the Farm Security Administration (FSA), setting in motion a new life trajectory. The Historical Section aimed to capture rural poverty and the New Deal programs designed to abolish it. But Stryker imagined a much broader pictorial sourcebook for America, and no one on his legendary team—including Dorothea Lange, Walker Evans, and Gordon Parks, among others—would be more dedicated to reaching this goal than Russell Lee. As Appel demonstrates, Stryker and Lee developed a fascinating symbiotic relationship that resulted in a massive and complex breadth of work. Living out of his car from the fall of 1936 to mid-1942, Lee crisscrossed America’s back roads more than any photographer of his era. During this time, he shot 19,000 negatives that were captioned and printed—more than twice that of any other FSA photographer. He captured arresting images of sweeping dust storms and devastating floods, and chronicled the World War II home front and the last gasp of a small-town America that was inexorably vanishing, all the while focusing prophetically on issues like segregation and climate change, decades before they became national concerns. Meticulously weaving previously unseen letters and diaries, Appel brilliantly reveals why Lee’s profile has remained obscured, while his contemporaries became broadly celebrated. With more than 100 images spread throughout, Russell Lee speaks not only to the complexity of a pioneering documentary photographer’s work but to a seminal American moment captured viscerally like never before.

A brief biography of the photographer followed by his photographs of people and places.

The divide between the digital and the real world no longer exists: we are connected all the time. How do we find out who we are within this digital era? Where do we create the space to explore our identity? How can we come together and create solidarity? The glitch is often dismissed as an error, a faulty overlaying, but, as Legacy Russell shows, liberation can be found within the fissures between gender, technology and the body that it creates. The glitch offers the opportunity for us to perform and transform ourselves in an infinite variety of identities. In Glitch Feminism, Russell makes a series of radical demands through memoir, art and critical theory, and the work of contemporary artists who have travelled through the glitch in their work. Timely and provocative, Glitch Feminism shows how the error can be a revolution.

More than 100 powerful images by noted photographer Russell Lee that document the working conditions and lives of coal mining communities in the postwar United States; publication coincides with an exhibition at the National Archives in Washington, DC. In 1946 the Truman administration made a promise to striking coal miners: as part of a deal to resume work, the government would sponsor a nationwide survey of health and labor conditions in mining camps. One instrumental member of the survey team was photographer Russell Lee. Lee had made his name during the Depression, when, alongside Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans, he used his camera to document agrarian life for the Farm Security Administration (FSA). Now he trained his lens on miners and their families to show their difficult circumstances despite their essential contributions to the nation's first wave of postwar growth. American Coal draws from the thousands of photographs that Lee made for the survey—also on view in the US National Archives and Records Administration’s exhibition Power & Light—and includes his original, detailed captions as well as an essay by biographer Mary Jane Appel and historian Douglas Brinkley. They place his work in context and illuminate how Lee helped win improved conditions for his subjects through vivid images that captured an array of miners and their communities at work and at play, at church and in school, in moments of joy and struggle, ultimately revealing to their fellow Americans the humanity and resilience of these underrecognized workers.

Alongside sixty-two of Butcher's iconic photographs, "Light on the Prairie" conveys the irrepressible spirit of a man whose passion would give us a firsthand look at the men and women who settled the Great Plains.

When still a young dancer in the New York City Ballet, Suki Schorer was chosen by George Balanchine to lecture, demonstrate, and teach--he recognized in her that rare dancer who not only performs superbly but can also successfully pass along what she knows to others. In Suki Schorer on Balanchine Technique, she commits to paper the fruit of her twenty-four-year collaboration with Balanchine in a close examination of his technique for teachers, scholars, and advanced students of the ballet. Schorer discusses the crucial work at the barre as well as center work, port de bras, pointework, jumps, partnering, and more. Her recollections of her own tutelage under Balanchine and her brilliant use of scores of his remarks about dancing and dancers lend both authority and intimacy to this extraordinary analysis of Balanchine's legacy to the future of dance. Abundantly illustrated throughout with instructional photographs featuring members of the New York City Ballet, this book will serve as an indispensable testament to Balanchine's ideas on technique and performance.

A National Book Award winner mines photographic gold to show—and tell—the story of the Great Depression. In an exquisitely curated volume of 140 full-color and black-and-white photographs, Martin W. Sandler unpacks the United States Farm Security Administration’s sweeping visual record of the Great Depression. In 1935, with the nation bent under unprecedented unemployment and economic hardship, the FSA sent ten photographers, including Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, and Gordon Parks, on the road trip of a lifetime. The images they logged revealed the daily lives of Southern sharecroppers, Dust Bowl farmers in the Midwest, Western migrant workers, and families scraping by in Northeast cities. Using their cameras as weapons against poverty and racism—and in service of hope, courage, and human dignity—these talented photographers created not only a collective work of art, but a national treasure. Grouped into four geographical regions and locked in focus by rich historical commentary, these images—many now iconic—are history at its most powerful and immediate. Extensive back matter includes photographer profiles and a bibliography.