
One is reminded of the photo documentary work of James VanDerZee who explored several decades of African American life in Harlem, from his studio on 125th Street, beginning in 1916. VanDerZee left a unique portrayal of his community from an insider’s perspective. Almost a century later, these photographs remain as a poignant record that informs the viewer of a specific time, and place while expressing universal themes.5 Pietropaolo’s work has withstood the test of time—these images are almost 40 years old. As time passes the work may be seen as more than a document. The photograph becomes a frozen moment meant for the viewer to contemplate. As each human drama unfolds within these pictures their historical significance is strengthened by the aesthetic influence contained within.


Not surprising is Vincenzo Pietropaolo’s early inspiration by another social documentary photographer named Lewis W. Hine, a trained sociologist and educator who celebrated the philosophy of John Dewey through his mentor Professor Frank Manny. Manny encouraged Hine to study photography as a vehicle for social change. Lewis Hine soon began a series on immigrants arriving at Ellis Island. Hine worked for the National Child Labor Committee
in New York in 1908 and over the next eight years helped influence changes that affected more humane child labor laws and exposed the exploitation of children under the age of 14 in the work place. Always remaining objective in his choice of subject, Hine exerts a strong viewpoint, as does Pietropaolo.
Similarly Pietropaolo sets the stage for the viewer to interpret the reading of the work. He has noted that as “Susan Sontag has written that the photograph is made by the person who sees it.”8 Exemplifying this philosophy is the story of Walker Evans’ photograph “Graveyard Houses and Steel Mill in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania” from 1935.
In this black and white photograph of the graveyard is depicted a huge marble cross in the left foreground with cemetery markers represented in the middle ground, while in the far distance one sees the smoke stacks of the steel mill. The reading may be historical or aesthetic, both befit the image. However, 40 years after the photograph was taken the real story emerged. This is the recollection of the chief of the Historical section of the Resettlement Administration (created by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, in 1935 as part of his New Deal programs intended to help Americans through the Great Depression—photographers were given work to document aspects of American life) who recounted that soon after the photograph was released a woman requested a copy of it. When, she was questioned why she said “I want to give it to my brother who’s a steel executive. I want to write on it, “Your cemeteries, your streets, your buildings, your steel mills. But, our souls, God damn you.”
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“One of my photographs had
been used on the organizing
poster (here Pietropaolo refers
to the 1974 workers organized
meeting for solidarity to receive
just compensation for work and injury). On the Italian
language version, a bold, red graphic had been written
across the image of a worker: lottare (struggle).”
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