“‘Pervert’ was like, ‘Wait, why are you calling me normal?’ I mean, I’m not normal and I’m not abnormal. I don’t want us to have those two dichotomies – we are human.”

The show, the first major retrospective of Opie’s career, is a true survey of her work so far, which means it contains more than these famous, vivid portraits on its several floors. Her work is almost formal in its composition and attention to beauty and her versatility extends beyond portraits to architecture and landscape and pictures that are almost journalism.

So besides the famous portraits, the Guggenhem also showcases a breathtaking room lined with pictures of ice houses in Minnesota and surfers in Malibu, pictures that somehow convey the fragility – and resolution – of people faced with the enormity of nature.

There are the pictures of American cities, shot at human-level, with human messiness evident amid architectural perfection.

There are the tender pictures of lesbian families from around the country.

And there is the “At Home” series, which takes a deep look through photographs at one woman’s community, and showcases how one person can have many layers, many sides, many faces she presents to the world. She can be a parent; a neighbor; a concerned citizen; an angry observer; a tender partner.

Opie has longed for a family for a long time. Her 1993 self-portrait “Cutting” showed a child-like drawing of two female stick figures holding hands happily, a house in the background, the sun peeking out of a cloud.

Now she has those things. She lives with her partner of eight years, Julie, and their son Oliver (they have a daughter as well) in East Los Angeles near UCLA, where she teaches.

NEXT PAGE: From “Pervert” to domestic life