One Fine Show: “Ming Smith: Jazz Requiem—Notations in Blue” at the Portland Museum of Art

The recent death of the great Martin Parr reminded us that the best practitioners of photography tend to maximize everything about the medium that makes it unique. Parr called his photos of devolving Britons “subjective documentary,” which is what I’m trying to describe: the nonfiction of the subject merges with the hand of the person taking the picture through lighting, composition, focus, etc. The recently closed exhibition by Ken Ohara at the Whitney Museum of American Art, in which he sent cameras to random homes in the 1970s, offers a much better look at the person behind the camera than whatever it is they’re shooting.

Ming Smith (b. 1947) is another photographer who seemed to enjoy both the subjective and documentary aspects of photography, and her understanding of both elements is on display in “Jazz Requiem—Notations in Blue,” a new exhibition at the Portland Museum of Art. The show collects work from the Detroit-born photographer’s travels in Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, capturing the nightlife in both its grittiness and glamour.

A great example of this blend is evident in Opera House Baroque (Italy), (1980). The composition here is great, giving the feeling of the Tower of Pisa—an excellent photo of which is featured in this show—because you first notice the grandeur of the friezes that decorate each balcony. Then you notice how everything is at a slight angle and moreover that there are all these people inside the balconies, longhaired aesthetes talking about the show and giving chaotic life to the ancient feeling. The ones on the lowest level are looking right at Smith, further puncturing the propriety of the setting. Is that even allowed?

Though excellent at capturing these broad scenes of life, her portraits of people like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders are able to burrow deep. In Judith Jamison (1981) she catches the Alvin Ailey dancer near a sunny window in surrounding darkness. She might be yet another oblique and ornate structure, because she’s leaning against glass in a dress that is thin but complicated. The sturdiest part of this building can actually be found at its apex. The expression on that face is similarly sturdy, if also open to collaboration.

I’m not sure exactly what’s going on in Social Distancing, (1974), but it shows a group of people in papier-mâché masks, presumably celebrating carnival, possibly in France. Not knowing the details is fine because this picture is really about her mastery of light and dark. The centerpiece is an ethereal bride in white. She wears a funereal style human mask with closed eyes under a tangle of hair like yarn. In another context she might be scary but she’s contrasted with the darkness of a nearby awning and weirder costumes, and so instead she’s a source of pathos. Her hand takes another monster’s, and you’re really rooting for these two crazy kids.

“Ming Smith: Jazz Requiem—Notations in Blue” is on view at the Portland Museum of Art through June 7, 2026.

More exhibition reviews

• Gemini G.E.L.’s 60th Anniversary Show Is a Love Letter to L.A.

• Rana Begum’s “Reflection” Lands at the Gallery at Windsor in Florida

• Davide Balliano’s Geometric Abstraction Sits at the Threshold of Precision and Entropy

• Collector Jordan D. Schnitzer’s David Hockney Holdings Come Home to Portland

• At Hauser & Wirth, Qiu Xiaofei’s Transmutation of Grief

• Painter Helene Schjerfbeck’s Life in Layers at the Met