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The arrival of the Harper Holden Conlan exhibition at the Boston Museum of Arts caused
quite a bit of anticipation in the art world due to the simple fact that the famed photographer
had not released a single picture in twenty years. Tickets to the exhibition were snapped up as if
Led Zeppelin had announced a reunion tour. Conlan, whose penchant for privacy could only be
rivaled by the likes of J. D. Salinger, was often compared to Diane Arbus and Henri Cartier-
Bresson for the unrelenting surrealism of his work. This current collection, titled "Muse" was
causing quite a sensation for its stark, unyielding study of a single subject, an approach that was
unusual for Conlan.
April Nardini could care less about Harper Holden Conlan but was savvy enough to know
that a report on a historic exhibition such as his could erase the only "B" that had ever graced her
report card. A mandatory fine arts class was not going to sully her perfect grade point average
if she could help it. Through the grace of God and Ebay, April scored two tickets to the exhibit.
After presenting her mother with her carefully thought out plan to extricate the only stain on her
academic history, ( along with some wheedling, nagging and sobbing on April's part) she found
herself winging her way to Hartford.
Two days after her arrival, April and her father were standing in line outside of the
Boston Museum of Art. Both were fairly skeptical about the excitement of the people around
them. It was not as if this was the World Series or a lecture by Nobel prize winning biologist
David Baltimore. However, April was on a mission and her father was more than willing to go
along for the ride.
The doors to the exhibit finally opened and the crowd silently entered the gallery. Noting
the reverential atmosphere that enveloped the large gathering, April shot her father a quizzical
glance. He shrugged, rolled his eyes and adjusted his hat. They entered a large hall filled with
tall black and white photographs gracing the black walls. April pulled out her notebook from
her purse and dug around for a pen. Her father was reading the information packet and pointed
to what was considered the beginning of the exhibit.
The first triptych of photos were only of a woman's eyes. The first seemed to catch its
subject warding off a spasm of pain. Her eyes are clamped shut, the fingers of one hand are
raking back her hair, her face is a study of lost control.
In the second picture the eyes are open, angry. The tears pooling in the orbs add a glassy
almost otherworldly look. It is rather remarkable that the black and white photo could not mute
what appears to be an icy blueness emanating from the subject's irises. The woman is staring
at the camera with unflinching disgust.
The third picture offers little relief. It depicts the subject in a state of surrender to what-
ever is haunting her. She is staring off to the right, completely able to transmit a feeling of utter
defeat with just part of her face revealed to the camera.
The gathering of people viewing these first photographs were completely swept away by
the sheer power of Conlan's work and were eager to view the rest of the exhibit. There were
fears among Conlan's staunchest fans that perhaps the master had lost his touch, that his
collection would seem dated and lacking. On the contrary, in this assemblage Conlan appears to
push his vision into a completely different dynamic, fueled by the presence of a mysterious
creature he refers to as "Tess".
April Nardini has to lead her father to the nearest bench and helps him sit down. His
incapacitation frightens her and she is at a loss of what to do for him. His shoulders are shaking
and to her horror she believes he is trying to hold back a gut wrenching sob. Her usually taciturn
father is close to losing it in public and April is fighting off waves of guilt and embarrassment.
Luke Danes had not seen his ex- fiancee in two years. Never in his wildest dreams did
he think he would see her again, let alone as the subject of a photo exhibit in Boston.