Having been an avid follower of Sally Mann's work, The Flesh and The Spirit was an exciting find for me. The book has a special focus on Mann's most famous bodies of work, but also covers her newest projects. Although the photographs speak mostly for themselves, the two essays by David Levi Strauss and Anne Wilkes Tucker are extremely insightful, and focus more on the writer's experience of the work in a way that is not struggling to over explain. John B. Ravenal's unnecessarily verbose deconstruction of Mann's work feels awkward by comparison.
Although Mann is known for her velvety black and white prints, this book also contains some color work in the vein of her Immediate Family series as well as some color photographs within her Matter Lent series that have not been shown before. These color photographs give an insight into Mann's process, and also construct an entirely different perspective and mood than her black and white work. The two formats compliment each other in this collection, expanding the scope of Mann's ideas by showing us how she revisits her subjects.
In her more recent work, Mann changes her focus from exploring her roots as a Southerner and her role as a mother, to examining her present state, the process of aging and the experience of her husband's changing body due to muscular dystrophy. There is a sincerity and awareness in the many ambrotype self-portraits that go beyond a survey of her facial features, but suggest an inward investigation, realizing the "self" as an independent being again. As always in Mann's work, her unflinching presentation of things that are hard to accept or acknowledge is handled in a way that is elegant and compassionate. She treats these subjects with an unconditional love. To use a word coined by Roland Barthes, the punctum of these images have pierced my consciousness, and left me aching for the intimacy and poetry that is Mann's life and work.