May 29. 2026
Full article with photographs here.
Monroe Gallery of Photography specializes in 20th- and 21st-century photojournalism and humanist imagery—images that are embedded in our collective consciousness and which form a shared visual heritage for human society. They set social and political changes in motion, transforming the way we live and think—in a shared medium that is a singular intersectionality of art and journalism. — Sidney and Michelle Monroe
May 29. 2026
Full article with photographs here.
By Ania Hull
May 22, 2026
“I think I was mistaken in thinking that democracy was a birthright,” Michelle Monroe says.
The co-owner of Monroe Gallery of Photography is sitting behind a large desk at the front of the art space, with her husband, Sidney Monroe. The two gallerists and curators are both warm and sharp and have no qualms about speaking their minds on the theme reflected in their latest show: America is in serious trouble.
The walls of the gallery that are visible from the front desk are filled with dozens of prints by photojournalists who’ve witnessed first-hand that "trouble" the Monroes speak of: they illustrate discrimination, racism, social and political violence, erasure of history, poverty, and the crumbling of one of the world’s oldest modern democracies. The prints are all part of America the Beautiful, a new group exhibition that opened earlier this month and runs through August 9.
The Monroes contend that some people refuse to see an unwashed version of their country — and also concede that it is difficult to look at photos that unveil the difficult, distressing, and ugly moments of American history. But the goal of this exhibition, the Monroes say, is to bring the issues to light in the hope that viewers will not turn away.
The exhibition commemorates the 250th anniversary of the birth of the nation and of the American experiment, doing it in a way that shows a beautiful America with gorgeous vistas but also reveals a side that viewers might be less comfortable seeing, the scenes of the United States of America hidden behind Old Glory.
“We were seeing exhibitions and plans being put into place for commemorating the 250th anniversary,” Sydney says, “and we’ve seen a lot of sanitization of our reality.
“One of the great benefits of representing photojournalists is that they document history,” he adds. “Their photographs are evidence.”
The photographs are from a range of eras, beginning in the 1930s up to this year, and reflect varying topics, such as protests, veterans, immigrants' rights, and symbols of poverty and other financial hardships.
And perhaps these images aren't the ones we want to see to inspire us to celebrate this national milestone but rather represent, the Monroes say, an opportunity to face our demons.
It begins with the flag
The Monroes keep a glass container on their front desk filled with individually wrapped whistles of the same kind anti-ICE protesters in Minneapolis used to alert their immigrant neighbors of an imminent Immigration and Customs Enforcement raid.
The Monroes share these whistles with gallery visitors. Last year, they gave out “Good Trouble” pins. This summer, Michelle says, they will distribute pins bearing an upside-down American flag, a symbol of distress.
A photo by independent photojournalist Tracy Barbutes in America the Beautiful shows an upside-down American flag hanging from El Capitan in Yosemite National Park. It was hung in protest of the thousands of federal job cuts that President Trump’s administration imposed early in 2025.
Many other prints in America the Beautiful feature various depictions of the American flag, many showing it as a symbol of identity, joy, and hope but also of oppression and violence.
“I suppose the American flag is like the crown,” Michelle says. “We formed against a monarchy, but we still needed a universal symbol, and the interpretation of the flag depends on who's holding it.”
In another print in the exhibition — the Pulitzer Prize-winning “Soiling of Old Glory” that Boston Herald American photographer Stanley J. Forman took in 1976 during an anti-bussing protest in Boston — the American flag is used as weapon: A white teenager, Joseph Rakes, holds it by its pole and thrusts it finial toward Black activist and lawyer Ted Landsmark, who’s being helped to his feet by another person.
In the 2006 photograph “Ty with Flags” by documentary photographer and filmmaker Nina Berman, young Marine Sgt. Tyler Ziegel stands on the porch of his house in the shadow of a large American flag. Ziegel was seriously wounded during his second tour in Iraq by a suicide car bomber. He died in 2012 of heroin and alcohol poisoning. This photo was taken the morning of his wedding, which ended in divorce that same year.
Berman says the photo of Ziegel and others in her series of veteran photos show the realities of war and the toll of the American flag on the bodies of soldiers who’d been sent to fight for it, often not even understanding what the conflict was about.
The atrocities continue through current events. Noted human rights photojournalist Ron Haviv's image in the show depicts a scene in Minneapolis on January 17 as anti-ICE protestors clash with ICE agents outside the Bishop Henry Whipple Federal Building. The American flag in Haviv’s photo obscures more than half of the scene but gives prominent focus to an ICE agent in full police-like uniform, with a bullet-proof vest and a mask reminiscent of gas masks from WWII. Behind him are other ICE agents in helmets and one in a makeshift mask made from a neck warmer.
Flags appear throughout America the Beautiful, often as a reminder that the American dream of freedom, equality, justice, opportunity is not a given.
“There’s a constant tension,” Sidney says, “between those who want to expand freedom and people’s opportunities, and people who want to restrict and determine who can be given an opportunity and who cannot.”
“You are not entitled to democracy,” Michelle adds, returning to her earlier remark that democracy is not a birthright. “It’s a responsibility. In the preamble of the Constitution, it says we must form a more perfect union. Well, now I understand that this is the responsibility of every single day. Just as a parent loves and nurtures a child, we must do the same with democracy.”
Photojournalist Ryan Vizzions’ photograph of a man standing atop a sign at the CNN headquarters in Atlanta during the May 2020 Black Lives Matter protest in response to the police killing of George Floyd symbolizes those who stand up against injustice and refuse to remain silent.
In the photo, the young man's sign reads “Black Lives Matter” in large letters. As he wields the flag, he tilts his face toward the sky, his mouth open, and he screams.
Exhibition of compelling and provocative photographs illustrating America, American life, and the American people as the United States prepares to celebrate its 250th birthday amid the erosion of civil rights, human rights, and democratic norms.
On July 4, 2026, our nation will commemorate and celebrate the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. “America The Beautiful” confronts the idea that “American” is a uniform, monolithic identity at a critical time when our Democracy is under attack. Threats to free expression are rising, federal civil rights laws have been weakened and the foundations of the country’s racially inclusive democracy are being challenged
Through more than 40 enthralling images, “America The Beautiful” explores the rituals, celebrations, social change, history, and memories of the American nation. Photographs in the exhibit depict major events and everyday life; themes of patriotism, memory, conflict, and identity; and documents Americans struggling for their freedom; their right to live without fear, their right to speak and the right to protest inequities.
May 15, 2026
Ashley Gilbertson and Ava Pellor - Puppies Behind Bars. Photograph: Ashley Gilbertson and Ava Pellor
"The extremely moving collection Puppies Behind Bars is the fruit of the nearly two years that photographers Ashley Gilbertson and Ava Pellor spent in the men’s maximum security Green Haven, documenting the titular program wherein those incarcerated raise puppies to become service dogs. Organization founder Gloria Gilbert Stoga shared that she instinctively knew that she wanted a war photographer to document what happened behind bars, because of the extreme nature of prisons.
“I wanted a war photographer, because going into prison isn’t something you can articulate to people who aren’t in prison,” Stoga said. “My assumption is that you also can’t articulate war. I needed people who could stay emotionally removed from the subject.”
Gilbertson, who is renowned for his photos of the Iraq war, fit that description, and was joined by Pellor, who has captured extreme experiences such as wildfires and illegal border crossings in the Balkans. Their photos take viewers into terrain that is both brutal and hidden, revealing how the act of raising a dog can transform this horrifying reality.
The dogs humanize an environment that’s devoid of all humanity,” said Gilbertson. “It gives men who have committed grave crimes against society a chance to do something, it gives men a chance to show weakness and vulnerability to be emotionally open and playful, it gives them a sense of responsibility. For the first time in their lives these men are sticking with something when it becomes tough.”
Pellor recalled in particular a photo she made of one of the men in the program when he received his puppy to raise, the act of receiving the dog bringing tears. “I think it was their first time taking them out for a walk in the yard, and he just put his head up to the puppy’s head and started crying,” said Pellor. “After that, he wouldn’t let him go that entire day.” ---full article
By Bill Church
May 10, 2026
Gabriela Campos is proof that curiosity can turn into a career. A shy kid into a visual star. No doubt.
The Santa Fe New Mexican photographer’s career has gained a national following, yet no one who knows her is surprised.
Gabriela recently was named the inaugural recipient of the national Nick Oza Visual Fellowship as selected by Altavoz Lab, founded by award-winning journalist Valeria Fernández on the belief that “strong local journalism strengthens democracy.” The fellowship is named after Oza, the Pulitzer-winning photojournalist known for mentoring others and forging important connections in Arizona’s immigrant communities before his death in 2021.
Gabriela will continue to work for The New Mexican during her fellowship while also tackling a 12-month project of documenting the “unsung women of New Mexico’s lowrider culture.”
Gabriela’s project work landed her on the May 2025 cover of High Country News magazine. And National Geographic recently selected her work for inclusion.
For those traveling to Washington, D.C., this summer, spend time at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History along the National Mall. You’ll find Gabriela’s images prominently displayed in the Marcia and Frank Carlucci Hall of Culture and the Arts located on 3 West.
If you go online to the Corazón y vida: Lowriding Culture site, you’ll immediately find one of Gabriela’s photos. The exhibit describes lowriding culture as “artistic expression, technological innovations, and storytelling that reflects Mexican American and Chicano culture and identity.” (Educators and anyone curious will find plenty of media-rich resources in the Smithsonian’s Learning Lab tied to the exhibit.)
I recently took a trip to Washington, D.C., where seeing Gabriela’s art was a must-see, must-smile moment. I also sent Gabriela a short list of questions, which she responded to between assignments and everything else going on in her life.
Her answers were so illuminating that I shifted from a typical column about Gabriela and the exhibit to this Q&A format (with some light editing).
Not surprising, Gabriela’s story is best told by Gabriela:
How did you learn your work had been accepted by the Smithsonian?
The process started years ago. I had just gotten home from a shift at the newspaper when my phone buzzed — it was an email from Steve Velasquez, a curator at the Smithsonian. He was interested in talking about my lowrider work in New Mexico. That was June 2021. After a few emails and calls, I submitted a portfolio. From there, everything fell into place.
Why has lowrider culture interested you? Has it influenced how you tell stories through your images?
Growing up in New Mexico, lowrider culture is always there, just at the edges of everyday life. You see cars cruising the Plaza, and it becomes part of your visual memory. I remember in kindergarten, my friend Domino brought in the song “Low Rider” by War for show and tell — that moment stuck with me.
As I got older, especially in high school, I became more drawn to cruise culture. Growing up in Santa Fe, you have to be creative to entertain yourself as a teenager. My friends and I would spend hours driving around town and hanging out in parking lots — not in particularly cool cars, but there was something freeing about it. That sense of movement, community and expression continues to shape how I tell stories through my images.
What was it like for you to see the exhibit in Washington, D.C.?
The exhibit was postponed for a couple of years due to COVID and the complexity of putting a show like that together. For a while, I wasn’t sure it would happen at all. So when the date was finally set, it felt unreal — and being there in person was even more surreal.
Seeing my photos on the wall brought me back to the exact moments they were taken: my first hopping competition in Española, Holy Thursday outside the Santuario de Chimayó, chasing a gold Impala down East San Francisco Street to catch it perfectly framed against the cathedral — while my mom followed behind me to make sure I didn’t get hit by a car.
Looking at the images, I saw friends and familiar faces. I didn’t feel far from home.
One of my favorite moments happened during the rollout after the festivities of opening day at the museum came to a close. A car club from Virginia lined up outside the museum. A rollout is when cars leave together — horns blaring, hopping, riding on three wheels — it’s a moment to show off. I was on the sidewalk taking photos, like I do at home, but this felt different. To my left were Estevan Oriol and Lou Dematteis — legends in lowrider photography. To my right was my 7-year-old nephew, Henry, crouched down, filming the cars weaving down the street. My mom, sister, and best friend were nearby, taking it all in.
The car club had blocked off the street, and the cars performed in front of these grand, pillared buildings. It felt like a collision of worlds — New Mexico lowrider culture meeting Washington, D.C. — and it was beautiful.
As the cars disappeared down the road, Oriol and Dematteis turned to me and asked if I’d take a photo with them. I couldn’t believe it — that they would want a picture with me, a newspaper photographer from New Mexico.
How did you become a photographer? What sparked this passion?
Up until about fifth or sixth grade, the world was a blur. Then I got glasses, and suddenly everything changed. Trees that once looked like green smudges had definition — I could see individual leaves, texture, detail. That shift gave me a deep appreciation for the visual world, and I think it’s part of why I became a photographer.
During my senior year of high school, I took my first photography class, and right away I knew it was something I wanted to pursue. It just felt right. Having a camera felt like being handed a key — a way to open doors and connect with people.
As a shy kid, I was just as curious — and my camera became a way to step into conversations, explore the world around me, and tell stories I otherwise wouldn’t have been part of. After that first class, I never stopped taking pictures.
For years after, I tried to convince myself photography wasn’t a practical path. How would I make it? How could I survive as a photographer? But every road kept leading me back to photojournalism. Eventually, I stopped resisting and accepted that this is what I’m meant to do. I’m grateful it worked out and that I kept going when it wasn’t always easy.
May 6, 2026
"The extraordinary show-out for AIPAD this year seems to prove something the art world has been whispering for years and is, perhaps, finally ready to say aloud: photography has arrived not as a secondary medium, not as decorative evidence, not as the tasteful cousin of painting, but as one of the most intellectually potent, historically loaded, and emotionally exacting forms in the contemporary market.
At The Photography Show presented by AIPAD, held at the Park Avenue Armory from April 22–26, 2026, the medium was given the scale, seriousness, and theatricality it has long deserved. The fair brought together international exhibitors, historically significant work, contemporary experimentation, and the newly introduced Focal Point sector, which emphasized solo presentations and lens-based practices that expand the definition of what photography has been and what it may still become. AIPAD, organized in 1979, remains a defining expert voice for fine art photography dealers, and its flagship fair is described as the longest-running exhibition dedicated to the photographic medium in the world."--full article
View the Monroe Gallery exhibit at The Photography Show Presented by AIPAD here.
Observer "In an Age of Image Overload, AIPAD’s The Photography Show Reminds Us What a Photograph Can Do"
Via Freedom Of The Press Foundation
April 30, 2026
Freedom of the press has fallen to its lowest level in a quarter of a century, NGO Reporters without Borders (RSF) warned Thursday as it released its annual global ranking. The group reported a worldwide decline in media freedom, citing factors ranging from US President Donald Trump’s “systematic” attacks on the press to actions in Saudi Arabia, where a journalist was executed in 2025.
The NGO's annual ranking, which was established in 2002, uses a five-point scale to asses the level of press freedom in a country, ranging from "very serious" to "good".
This year's index reveals a global trend towards restricting press freedoms.
"For the first time in the index’s 25-year history, more than half the world’s countries now fall into the 'difficult' or 'very serious' categories for press freedom," RSF said.
The proportion of the population living in a country where the press freedom situation is "good" has plummeted, falling from 20% to "less than 1%", it said.
Only seven countries in northern Europe are ranked "good", with Norway receiving the highest rating. France ranks 25th, with a ‘"satisfactory" score.
“In 25 years, the average score for all the countries studied has never been so low,” the NGO said.
The United States, received a "problematic" rating and has dropped seven places to 64th, between Botswana and Panama.
The organisation said US President Donald Trump's attacks on the press had become “systematic” resulting in such incidents as the detention and subsequent deportation of the Salvadoran journalist Mario Guevara, who was reporting on the arrests of migrants in the United States.
Trump has also overseen a drastic reduction in funding for US international broadcasting.
RSF also highlighted the dramatic falls of El Salvador (143rd), which has dropped 105 places since 2014 following the launch of a war against the Maras criminal gangs, and Georgia(135th), which has fallen 75 places since 2020 due to an “escalation of repression”.
The sharpest decline in 2026 is attributed to Niger (120th, down 37 places) due to the “the deterioration of press freedom in the Sahel over several years”, amid “attacks by armed groups and (the) ruling juntas”, RSF said.
Saudi Arabia (176th, down 14 places), where the columnist Turki al-Jasser was executed by the state in June – “a unique occurrence in the world” – sits alongside Russia, Iran and China at the very bottom of the ranking, which is rounded out by Eritrea (180th).
By contrast, Syria (141st) has leapt 36 places following the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime.
In solidarity with Fall Of Freedom, Monroe Gallery is honored to present a preview of the important exhibition "America The Beautiful", May 1 & 2.
Fall Of Freedom is a focused, urgent call to artists and arts institutions across all sectors to make art, music, plays, exhibitions, comedy, and beautiful protests foregrounding artistic labor and aligned with immigrants' rights organizing, to amplify all struggles against repression and state violence.
Due process gutted. Universities threatened and defunded. Students kidnapped. Migrants deported. Troops deployed. Racism rampant. Cruelty celebrated. Political leaders arrested. Citizenship stripped. Health care shredded. Women's rights rescinded. Wealth concentrated. Free speech eliminated. Genocide normalized. Science undermined. Arts assaulted. Journalism targeted. Departments shuttered. Grants rescinded. Trans banned. Lawyers capitulating. Coup makers pardoned. Budgets slashed. Abortion outlawed. Courts stacked. Boards replaced. Police unleashed. Nazis emboldened. Bombs dropped.
This is why we must resist. More here.
Via Human Rights Educators USA