What do Mexican wrestlers, hoochie-coochie girls, and Arnold Schwarzenegger have in common? No, this isn't the lead-in to some juvenile joke; rather, all three are depicted in photographs currently on display at the George Eastman House. The three seemingly diverse exhibitions - "Lucha Libre! Masked Mexican Wrestlers," "The Tease," and "Male & Female" - are being displayed concurrently as a series titled "Lucha Libre y Mas," which focuses on extreme portrayals of gender in photography. And while the connections between the three exhibits may seem precarious, after a visit to the museum their strong connections - not only in subject matter, but also photographic elements - become readily apparent.

Thinking about gender as performance is hardly something new, especially when gender identity issues have become so transfixed in our cultural milieu. It has been the subject for older films like "Tootsie" to the more recent "Transamerica," and as a regular issue for talk shows like "Jerry Springer," to name a few examples. And while the exhibitions at the Eastman House do not necessarily take the now long-running discourse to some new level, they illuminate two more specific arenas where gender performance occurs, and also illustrate how important the camera is in aiding that performance.

"Lucha Libre! Masked Mexican Wrestlers" features nearly 600 images of the titular grapplers, as well as videos, installation art, and other memorabilia. For those unfamiliar with Lucha Libre, it is the Mexican equivalent of the WWE, with more high-flying moves, and wrestlers (luchadors) wearing masks that cover all but their eyes, nose, and mouth.

The photographs on display range from the candid - luchadors mid-air, leaping from the ring's ropes toward their opponents - to the fully posed - luchadors shielded by their emblematic masks, posing in luxurious settings as priests, gods, or mythological figures. The exhibition acquaints viewers with the important role photographs play in building characters for the luchadors.

The series' newest exhibition, "The Tease," on display through November 25, contains almost 600 8"x10" photographs from the '30s and '40s featuring burlesque dancers from the now-demolished Palace Theater in Buffalo. A wide variety of girls grace the walls with iconic names like Virginia ‘Ding Dong' Bell, Miss Ecstasy, Dee Light, and, my personal favorite, Rough House Rosie. They pose in familiar ways: bent over, staring at the viewer between their legs; sitting in an oversized champagne glass; and generally standing with their shoulders back to accentuate their busts.

One of the most interesting elements in this exhibition is the crude retouching visible on several of the photographs. Fake fishnet bras and underwear have been drawn on with ink, and in one striking black-and-white photo, a red marker has been used to create a gown to cover the dancer's body.

While both "Lucha Libre" and "The Tease" present viewers with predominantly masculine views of their subjects, an interesting discord occurs when comparing the small section of "Lucha Libre" dedicated to female wrestlers with the images in "The Tease." While the women in both of the exhibitions are committing acts of social transgression - either by being overtly sexual or lacking in femininity - they impact the viewer in different ways. The women in the burlesque photographs pose in expectedly seductive stances, acting as the stereotypical object for the male viewer. The female luchadors act out similarly traditional feminine poses, yet somehow the viewer is disrupted. In one photograph we see a female wrestler looking at herself in the mirror as she applies lipstick - a stereotypical female pose of narcissism and vanity - but the fact that a mask covers the face she is making-up while she poses as a sexual object is jarring. In another image, a female wrestler in full garb poses with her child as if she is about to breastfeed him or her. Here, the typical motherly pose is disrupted by her masculine appearance. It is in moments like these where the exhibitions not only connect on the base level of gender performance, but also usurp viewers' gender stereotypes.

The final exhibition in the series, "Male & Female: Gender Performed in Photographs from the George Eastman Collection," contains the fewest images with the most varying subject matter. While the other two exhibitions pick a narrow focus to show extreme gender depictions, the photographs here run the gamut from a Marilyn Monroe to a photo of Arnold Schwarzenegger taken by Candice Bergen. The treat here is to catch some of the museum's collection of work by photographic masters like Edward Steichen and Nickolas Muray (who was also once reportedly Frida Kahlo's lover - a great addition in a series on gender identity).

Portraiture is, and always has been, an opportunity to play a role or a character. If you think back to the last photograph you posed for, you likely found yourself wanting to appear in a certain way to give some false or forced impression. We are so trained to pose for the camera we often fail to remember the implications of the word posing itself. Since we are conditioned to interpret photographs as a medium of reality, we forget how intrinsically linked they are to performance. "Lucha Libre y Mas" forces us to remember.