‘Paul Shambroom’s American Photographs’
Two cylindrical power plant cooling towers puff smoke into the air, colliding with white clouds. On an otherwise nondescript suburban road, an ice cream truck moves up the street. These two images in one picture frame feel like something out of “The Simpsons,” but they’re also just very Anywhere U.S.A.

Above is a picture of East Coventry, Pa., a community with a -0.44% margin (18 votes out of 4,128 total) during the 2020 election. For his project “Purpletown,” photographer Paul Shambroom visited this area and 60 others like it, examining the politically divided nation.
It’s just one of the series in Shambroom’s retrospective exhibition “American Photographs” at the University of Minnesota’s Nash Gallery. A longtime professor at the U who is retiring, Shambroom takes beautiful pictures that are somewhere between photojournalism, amateur sociologist and street photographer.

This show includes Shambroom’s early work like a late 1970s pop-up photo booth on Hennepin Avenue, pictures of factories, empty corporate offices and city council meetings, and a series of lost pet photos. He is also just as interested in found photos as he is in Instagram.
But really, his photos are trying to understand American history, politics and culture. His series of decommissioned military weapons that have become centerpieces of small towns feel surreal. How could an old tank become a backdrop for a prom photo? His best pictures ask questions like this.
He made chilling photographs of America’s nuclear arsenal. He visited small towns of American celebrities, offering soft revisionist histories through pictures of current residents.
The opening quote for the exhibition catalog comes from longtime Minnesota photojournalist Charles Chamblis, known for documenting the Twin Cities Black community in the 1970s and 1980s: “There is only one game in town, and that is reality.” But what is reality, really?
In the series “Security” (2003-2007), in which Shambroom documented the country’s heightened fear after 9/11, portraits of a person in a hazmat suit and a policeperson in SWAT camouflage don’t look all that strange. The lack of pointed critique or context for what previous security measures looked like made these photos feel like something between a sci-fi film and just the everyday news cycle. This series felt very close to current fearmongering from powerful political figures, making reality feel ever more elusive.