REFLECTOR
Ian Lewandowski
6.14 — 8.02
Off the Florida Keys
There’s a place called Kokomo
That’s where you wanna go
To get away from it all
Bodies in the sand
Tropical drink melting in your hand
We’ll be falling in love
To the rhythm of a steel drum band
Down in Kokomo
The Beach Boys’ 1988 pop song Kokomo conjures an idyllic, fictional utopia – an impossible remote paradise centered around love and leisure – through uncomplicated, catchy, romanticism. The real Kokomo, Indiana (the hometown of Ryan White) exists in stark contrast, situated on the fringe of the Rust Belt at the center of the Midwest, far removed from tropical beaches and steel drum bands. The dichotomy between paradisal fantasy and industrial reality forms the foundation of Ian Lewandowski’s current exhibition at No Place Gallery, Reflector, in an emphatic contextualization of queer identity, masculinity, and blue-collar resilience from the Heartland.
Reflector, titled after Lewandowski’s parents’ high school yearbook, wades through personal and collective memory to illuminate the often overlooked and concealed narratives of queer individuals in the Midwest. After his transplantation from a conservative, Christian environment in Northwest Indiana to the vibrant New York City art scene, Lewandowski became deeply introspective regarding his own context and origins, culminating in a profound exploration of identity through photographic imagery. The cultural landscape of Indiana is examined through references to firework and gun laws, found photographs, and vintage yearbook advertisements promoting futures in steel production and military recruitment: testaments to industrial legacy as well as the bodily cost required by post-war definitions of masculinity. The idealized “Kokomo” is placed against the real-life experiences of queer Midwesterners to encapsulate the bittersweet reality of navigating an environment that can be both physically and emotionally inhospitable, yet nonetheless home.
One of the exhibition’s most poignant pieces features Ryan White, who contracted AIDS through a blood transfusion during a treatment for hemophilia when he was just 13 years old. Ryan received misplaced AIDS-related discrimination from his local community and more broadly the larger public, provoked by Raeganistic conservative vitriol. For a century before, Kokomo had been known as “The City of Firsts” in regards to automotive manufacturing advancements, and residents broiled as this place that epitomized post-war masculinity and blue-collar prestige was instead spotlit in the fight for equality and acceptance surrounding HIV/AIDS.
As a young white child from Middle America, Ryan became a convenient scapegoat for a generation of misunderstanding and prejudice about HIV/AIDS who long refused to accept the reality of the epidemic. He was frequently told that he “had to be gay” while some even cruelly suggested that this was “God’s punishment.” Continued harassment and intimidation following a successful legal battle that allowed him to return to school prompted his family to relocate to Cicero, Indiana where Ryan would pass away months after his eighteenth birthday and shortly before the CARE act was passed in his name – the largest ever federal program dedicated to HIV/AIDS treatment and prevention. The ripple effect of Ryan’s story is a powerful testament to the intersection of victimhood, prejudice, and the struggle for understanding and acceptance.
My Man Mitch is Lewandowski’s second monograph, published in 2022 by Kult Books; this body of work forms the foundation of “Reflector.” The visual treatise explores the complexities of masculinity and gay identity, growing up in Indiana, and its stark contrast to his experience as an artist living in NYC. This collection blends personal reflection and archival exploration to gently confront tensions surrounding traditional ideas of manliness measured by physical strength and emotional stoicism, fortified by the post-war industrial manufacturing boom, with defiant effeminacy, tenderness, and curiosity.
Lewandowski remembers “a sense of ‘reliable’ manliness, dependability, a man’s worth being a product of his virility or physical strength,” being modeled to him at an early age, and how “unreliable and unfit [he] came to find the men who raised [him] to be”– the same men whose lasting influence fueled this photographic inquisition. Spanning four years, My Man Mitch evolves alongside the artist’s own understanding of self through healing moments of intergenerational dialogue while challenging the heirloom notion that strength is related to domination. Lewandowski states “The individuals who hurt us in our lives aren’t necessarily simply bad seeds, but the soil in which they grow might not yield anything good from the start” in recognition of the environment’s capacity to influence, or even determine, perceptions of self and others. The series captures duality with nuance and profundity in an excavation of manhood that surrenders rigid preconceptions in favor of rediscovery; portraying masculinity as something more in motion, more alive.
Lewandowski’s inclusion of drugstore photo prints from the Brickyard 400 NASCAR races, taken by his uncle in the mid-90s, serves as a conceptual anchor to his childhood while juxtaposing masculine imagery with the potential for alternative narratives. This symbolic gesture underscores the fluidity of identity and the multiplicity of experiences within the context of Indiana’s cultural landscape while rooting the narrative in the artist’s specific lifetime. The tiled images distill the male gaze Lewandowski was surrounded by in his youth, the same that saturates many corners of the Midwest to this day: at once removed and fascinated by both competitive driver and captivated woman. Displayed on pegboard alongside traditionally masculine ephemera, the installation recalls garage walls – the space conventionally relegated to men within the suburban home – further accentuating the subconscious tension of being simultaneously detached and entwined.
As a continuation of the dialogue initiated by My Man Mitch, Lewandowski spent his time as an Aurora Project Resident in Indianapolis in 2023 further exploring the gradations of queer identity in the Midwest. Portraits of queer Hoosiers (particularly during Indy Pride) were captured with sensitivity and respect, allowing these images to resonate with complex authenticity, existing as small monuments of genuine human connection. It was Lewandowski’s intention in this series to “make something sensitive to this place, nuanced and ‘from within.’” There is an intimate reverence in the photographer’s method, who explained “Rather than exploit the identity or environment of those who agree to sit for a portrait, I want to approach this with the same empathy and genuine curiosity I bring to any portrait I make.” This aspect of the exhibition runs concurrently with Lewandowski’s “Again, Again,” at the Aurora PhotoCenter in Indianapolis, which showcases additional works from the prolific series until August 15th.
Reflector also investigates the intersections of queer communities and blue-collar life, highlighting how these identities converge in both work and leisure. The exhibition portrays the resilience and authenticity of queer individuals as they forge communities and carve out spaces of joy amidst the rigors of daily labor. Lewandowski’s photographs honor these lives, capturing the rich, textured experiences of those who balance their identities within the fabric of blue-collar America.“Reflector” is not just a documentation of personal angst; it is a reflection on the complexities of identity formation and the impact of upbringing on individual expression.
Through a blend of large-format portraits and appropriated material, Lewandowski engages in a dialogue on community, belonging, and the intersection of manhood and queer identity. The exhibition reveals moments of quiet defiance, tender connection, and the quotidian realities of queer life that are often overlooked in the Midwest. The audience is encouraged to reconsider the narratives associated with the region, challenging stereotypes and highlighting the vibrant, diverse lives that thrive within small industrial cities and suburban sprawl. Through Lewandowski’s lens, viewers are invited to witness the vibrant tapestry of queer life in the Midwest—a tapestry woven from moments of joy, struggle, and unyielding determination.
-No Place Gallery
Ian Lewandowski (b. 1990) is a photographer from Northwest Indiana. His first solo exhibition, Community Board, was exhibited at The Java Project in Brooklyn in 2019. The Ice Palace Is Gone, his body of large-format color portraits made from 2018-19, was published as his first monograph by Magic Hour Press (Montréal) in 2021. My Man Mitch, his body of photographs and photo-based material native to his home state of Indiana, was published by Kult Books (Stockholm) in 2022. He teaches undergraduate and continuing education courses in photography at The New School and Gowanus Darkroom and manages and prints the photo work of Kenny Gardner (1913-2002). He lives in Brooklyn with his husband Anthony and their dog Seneca.