The art of openness
In The Contemporary Dayton’s art gallery, inkjet-printed palms cradling wooden rosaries jutted from the wall, while latex gloves, stiffened and swollen from concrete casings, were displayed on the floor as an invitation for crouched contemplation. Across the space, photographs of plants snapped in intimate proximity captured nature's quiet transformation across the seasons. Both exhibitions defined last year’s FotoFocus Biennial’s theme “backstories,” running from Sept. 22 to Dec. 2.
The showcase culminated in an artists’ talk Nov. 22, bringing together featured artists, Curtis Mann ’03 and his former professor, Sean Wilkinson, in a reunion 20 years in the making.
Mann, whose work has been featured in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris, admits that being an artist wasn’t the original plan. A senior mechanical engineering major, he enrolled in a basic photography class for a much less romantic reason: to fulfill an elective requirement before graduation (and hopefully earn an easy A). Academic obligation quickly evolved into a gnawing desire to experiment more.
“[It] was so different from my engineering courses, and it quickly became something I couldn’t ignore,” recalled Mann. “I was immediately drawn to the creativity and the people there.”
After graduation, Mann decided to audit photography and other art courses at UD, a choice that puzzled some family and friends.
“I didn’t know if I had a chance,” Mann explained, “but I had confidence I could create interesting things. So, I gave it a shot.”
It paid off: in 2008, Mann earned his MFA in photography from Columbia College Chicago. By 2014, he was a full-time artist, integrating sculpture into his work.
Wilkinson, professor emeritus in UD’s Department of Art and Design, recognized the young engineer’s potential early on. An MFA graduate from the Rhode Island School of Design, Wilkinson studied under photography luminaries like Minor White, Harry Callahan and Aaron Siskind. He then took that experience to Dayton, establishing the University’s nationally recognized photography program in 1973. With his own work featured in more than 25 collections worldwide and fellowships from the Ohio Arts Council and Montgomery County, Wilkinson’s eye for artistry is well-trained.
“Curtis had this knack for fixing things in the photo lab — always quietly, never seeking attention — and brought the same problem-solving mindset to his art,” Wilkinson said.
For Mann, being in Wilkinson’s class was liberating. “It was like being in a book of poetry. He's a teacher who genuinely loves to create and inspire students to do the same. As an engineer, everything was either ‘right’ or ‘wrong,’ so that freedom really changed me.”
Twenty years later, their work converged for the first time, offering distinct yet complementary explorations of the human experience.
Mann’s Precious Blood scaffolds an array of materials – shards of glass, concrete, family photographs, found and AI-generated images, and religious iconography – to build his sculptural collages. The work draws on his upbringing in Dayton’s parochial schools, his Catholic mother’s funeral service last May, his acceptance and the eventual embracement of his atheism.
“I’ve always been interested in how we image grief and memory,” Mann said. “This was the first time I applied that lens to my own life. I wanted to create something that connected me to the city where I grew up.”
In contrast, a meditative reprieve: Wilkinson’s Flora, serene photographs of plants captured over numerous seasons at Dayton’s Five Rivers MetroParks. The series asks visitors to appreciate nature’s vitality and enduring indifference to human affairs. Images weren’t labeled, the botany oftentimes difficult for viewers to identify – core elements of Wilkinson’s fundamentally experimental approach where meaning-making is as much the viewer’s responsibility as it is the artist’s.
“It’s not so much about making things happen as it is enabling things to happen and being open to [things] that come from beyond deliberate intent,” Wilkinson said during his remarks. “I am always looking to be surprised.”
The interplay between Mann’s emotionally charged collages and Wilkinson’s tranquil photographs created a compelling juxtaposition in The Co.’s gallery. One visitor described their viewing experience as an “emotional catharsis.” Another noted how the collections seemed to engage in dialogue, addressing themes of life, loss and the intersections of spiritual and natural worlds.
It’s a reminder of how important it is to have teachers who see something in you before you see it in yourself.
Mann, now a high school photography teacher in Rhode Island, said he finds echoes of Wilkinson’s teaching ideology in his own classroom.
“He had a way of encouraging you to think deeply about your work without ever being prescriptive,” Mann said. “It’s something I try to emulate with my students, even if they, like me at one point, don’t consider themselves artists.”
Wilkinson, who spent more than four decades teaching, agreed that artistry can transcend technical instruction.
“I exercise control when I make pictures, but at the same time, I’m relinquishing control,” he said. “It’s about allowing things to emerge organically and being open to new avenues of expression.”
That shared philosophy ultimately unites them and their work.
“This wasn’t just about art,” Mann said. “It was about revisiting a place that shaped us both in profound ways. It’s a reminder of how important it is to have teachers who see something in you before you see it in yourself.”
A version of this article appears in print in the Spring 2025 University of Dayton Magazine, Page 1. EXPLORE THE ISSUE — MORE ONLINE