It is clear that as Opie has gotten older, she has become more domestic. “Pervert” is bookended by a 2004 self portrait of a naked Opie nursing Oliver. Her face is tender, meeting the gaze of her son with love. Faintly, we can still see the word “Pervert,” now faded, across her chest. Opie shows here – and with her body of work – that people are complex. That how we label ourselves and others is a small piece of who we actually are.

Guggenheim curator Jennifer Blessing didn’t title the show “Catherine Opie: Lesbian Photographer,” or “Queer Photographer. She titled it “American Photographer,” because she believes that Opie represents something more than a niche group.

“Yes, the name is bold and purposeful in a sense,” Blessing said. “I think for anyone who might want to marginalize her, the point is that she’s a representative of our country and is American, and is apple pie in a way.”

Blessing said that Opie’s work is important because her portraits of the queer community coincided with the rising visibility of lesbians in the United States, and therefore they had a big impact.

“But she really branched out when she became a mother,” Blessing said. “Before, she was defending her community; now she feels like she has to defend a larger sphere.”

That’s what Opie’s body of work does: show that community is a series of ever-larger, over-lapping circles, encompassing family, and neighbors, and sexual orientation, and race, and politics.

NEXT PAGE: Mainstream – and marriage