From Julia Margaret Cameron to Sally Mann, photographers have long found their muses close to home, in their own families. Sterri taps into that tradition in a series of tender, probing images of his wife and two sons, made during the past fifteen years. Gazing at the camera as if looking into a mirror, they look alternately contented, concerned, amused, and even blissful. Sterri casts himself as a comically stern dad, whether he’s seen stepping into the frame with the others or taking it over entirely for an occasional self-portrait, one of which finds him naked in a shallow grave, as if to suggest that, without his loved ones around him, life isn’t worth living.
–The New Yorker
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