Growing up in the 1970s, if my family was going on vacation, it meant we were taking a road trip. Funny to think about it now, but we didn’t call it a road trip back then—it was just a trip. A backseat packed with pillows, a cooler full of Shasta, maybe a Rand McNally atlas sliding around the floor. And while road trips have certainly evolved (and expanded in the age of RVs and phone chargers), there’s something about the ones from back then that just feel… better. Simpler. Happier.
But as it turns out, this nostalgic love for hitting the road isn’t just a boomer or Gen X thing. The new photography exhibition “In Search of America: Photography and the Road Trip“ at the Saint Louis Art Museum makes a quiet but convincing case: Americans have been road-tripping almost as long as there have been cars. One section of the show even spotlights a cross-country journey from 1926—proof that whether you called it a road trip or not, every generation has defined this experience in its own way.
Jewish photographers explore identity, travel and life on the road
“In Search of America: Photography and the Road Trip” opens May 2 and runs through Oct. 19. Featuring more than 100 works spanning a century of road-bound photography, the show captures not just what America looks like—but how it feels to move through it.
And tucked into that long, rolling story are four Jewish photographers whose work reshaped how we see the road, the country and ourselves.
“Some of these names people may recognize, some they may not,” said Eric Lutz, associate curator of prints, drawings and photographs, who organized the show. “But they’re all in conversation with each other in this exhibit.”
Here’s who they were—and what to look for when you visit.
Robert Frank (1924 – 2019)
Born in Switzerland to a Jewish family, Frank came to the U.S. after growing up in a Europe rattled by antisemitism and war. That outsider’s lens stayed with him—along with a quiet curiosity about what this country was really offering.
Swiss-born Frank arrived in the U.S. as a Jewish immigrant and created one of the most famous photo books in American history, The Americans. But the images on view here are a bit different.
“Both of the Frank images we’re showing have to do with religious expression,” said Lutz. “One is a close-up of a car in Chicago with a bumper sticker that says ‘Christ died for your sins.’ The other is a photo of a Black woman standing in a field with a telephone pole that reads like a cross in the background.”
Frank didn’t just document. He watched, noticed and sometimes gently questioned. “He traveled the country to get an unvarnished view,” said Lutz. “And you can feel the skepticism, even bemusement, in what he found.”
Lee Friedlander ( b. 1934)
Friedlander is the son of a Jewish émigré, and while he doesn’t focus on Jewish themes directly, that sense of being slightly outside the frame seems to echo through his work. He sees America differently—sometimes literally—and found poetry in the things most people skipped over. Friedlander’s work might make you laugh—or do a double take. “He’s one of the few photographers who’s able to consistently include humor in his work,” Lutz said.
The show features two of his pieces: one shot from a motel room in Galax, Virginia, where a floating Coca-Cola bottle is perfectly framed by the window. “It’s a weird, dreamlike little moment,” said Lutz. “And it’s funny.” The other, taken along Route 66 in Albuquerque, is a jumble of wires, signage and city clutter—exactly the kind of stuff most of us tune out.
“Friedlander’s always looking at what people don’t look at,” Lutz said. “There’s something outsider-ish about that, too.”
Esther Bubley (1921-1998)
Bubley was born in Wisconsin to Russian Jewish immigrants. That identity—female, Jewish, working class—gave her a kind of access and empathy that defined her career, even as she carved space in a field that barely made room for her.
Bubley’s work isn’t about Route 66 or the wide open road—it’s about the bus stations in between.
“She really pushed her way into photojournalism at a time when it was almost all men,” said Lutz. “Her first big project was photographing the American bus system during World War II. And she captured this feeling of exhaustion, loneliness and even humor you see in people traveling that way.”
Bubley’s lens was often turned toward women and working-class Americans—people who, like her, might not have always felt front and center. “She had a way of gaining people’s trust, of seeing them clearly,” said Lutz.
Ben Shahn: standing up through art
Shahn was born in Lithuania to an Orthodox Jewish family, and his art never strayed far from that experience. His Jewishness wasn’t background—it was fuel for a lifelong mission to document injustice and advocate for the people pushed to the edge.
“Shahn was probably the most politically engaged of the group,” said Lutz. “His work is driven by social justice.”
Shahn worked in multiple media, including painting and the museum owns one of his major postwar pieces. But the photo on view in this exhibit—a portrait of a family in the Ozarks, cat included—still tells a deeply human story.
“He was interested in people who didn’t have a voice,” said Lutz. “That’s what drove him.”
How to see the show (and find the Jewish artists)
The exhibition is arranged in two parts: one gallery follows the evolution of the American road trip through photography; the second focuses on Emil Otto Hoppé, whose 1926 travels across the U.S. arguably produced the first full photographic survey of the country.
All four Jewish artists—Frank, Friedlander, Bubley and Shahn—are featured in the main gallery, where their work sits side by side with giants like Dorothea Lange and Edward Weston.
And while there’s no official audio tour, Lutz offers this cheat sheet: “Come in with an open mind. Don’t just look for the big landscapes. Pay attention to what’s on the margins—because a lot of what’s most interesting is hiding in plain sight.”
