Disclaimer: My heart belongs to Rochester, but now is the winter of my discontent. I visited the Eastman House's "Where We Live" exhibition with a lot of love and pride for this city, but of the unconsciously blind, naïve sort that defensively guards its own hollowness. I love this place, my adopted city, because of the great people and the great things we have. But there's so much I don't see and don't know about us, and it's too easy to close off. This show, which commemorates 175 years of The Roc (and the 60th anniversary of the Eastman House's dedication to the public), prodded me to take a closer look at us, and to ask some difficult, though legitimate, questions.

A plaque outside of the exhibition space provides a little set up: "In 1834, our city was a small enclave carved out of an upstate forest, and photography was still five years away from its discovery. Today, in a variety of exhibitions, we consider Rochester's past, present, and future with the photographs that preserve our history and reveal what is to come."

In room one of the gallery space, visitors view a cheerful clip reel set to old time-y and classical music; moving pictures show the early days of Rochester, the river and industry, Highland Park, the Eastman House, visiting celebrities, and more. Next to the movie screen is the first known photograph of the city by Edward Tompkins Whitney, a daguerreotype of his daguerreotype gallery/studio on the corner of State and Main streets, circa 1852. Also included are George Eastman's first photograph, taken at age 23 in 1877, an ambrotype of the Genesee River's murky bank and waters, Rochester postcards showing off many old views of the city, and numerous photos of the US Army School of Aerial Photography, which depict troops turned photo-chemists and artistes. Aerial shots of the city from different times had me doing what I guess most visitors would be: seeing if I could locate my house.

It is interesting to discern the recognizable from the utterly alien in the shifting architecture and landscape, and to see the early accomplishments of the Eastman Kodak Company. But the early-history section of the exhibit was bafflingly bereft of the inspiring, revolutionary aspects of our history, including any sign of Frederick Douglass or Susan B. Anthony. We get no suffragists, but we do get a 1920's Miss Rochester, Dorothea Ditner, nude and draped in a fringed shawl. Eastman's legacy is enormous and what he did for this city is remarkable, but he was not the only prominent Rochesterian to have changed the game.

The second room has us moving forward through time, finding a refreshing variety in people only very recently (seriously - judging by the exhibit, an outsider might fall under the impression that black people magically appeared downtown some time last year). The huge, chaotic endeavor suddenly becomes democratic, perhaps because with time photo technology became accessible to more of the public.

Highlights include a projection of video stories - documentaries telling of dramas and successes, pastimes, and endeavors - including one by photojournalist Will Yurman, who continually tries to provide more media representation for Rochester's overlooked residents. In Yurman's piece, Public Market-goers step up to the soapbox and complete the sentence "If I was President..." in a funny, touching, and wincingly honest look at half-cocked yet earnest behavior. Annette Lein's story shows the exuberant and emotional reactions of Rochesterians when President Obama was elected last year.

Several Kodak Coloramas taken between the 1950's and 70's evoke a Norman Rockwell portfolio: cheesy, contrived situations in super-saturated color; people with cutesy expressions behaving far better than anyone actually does. "These images, consciously or unconsciously, present Rochester's idealized vision of itself as bucolic, innocent, and untroubled," states the info plaque. And white. You forgot white. Yikes.

Also lining the walls are Roger Mertin's images of the city (parks, beaches, and the ubiquity of basketball hoops in the 1970's), and Ira Srole's images of downtown taken over several decades. Photos by community leaders share the center walls with countless images from the general community, as well as outsiders: playful, political, artistic, moving, and clever - a wide range of views is represented, celebrating family, the beautiful architecture and landscape, and the Genesee.

Be sure check out "How Do We Look?" in the front gallery near admissions, where major contemporary photojournalists document "the many different lives that co-exist here," per the provided statement. Eli Reed's work depicts the local African-American community and leaders, including artists, poets, and various members of the community. Pep Bonet's work examines the industrial scenes of Kodak Park and a white collar/blue collar focus on multiple generations of Kodak employees. A collection of focused performers and informal portraits of musicians make up Kristen Ashburn's grayscale photo essay of the local music scene, ranging from Eastman students, to RPO musicians, to various genres, groups, and individuals, including hip-hop MC Hassaan Mackey.

And the future? The exhibit provides a small handful of physical possibilities in the form of digital redesigns of a few urban spaces by the architecture firm of Chaintreuil, Jensen and Stark, info on the Reshaping Rochester lecture series, and a guest book in which we are invited to sign and share personal visions. It's mostly filled with children's doodles and a few pleas from adults to restore and reuse what we have before building new. We seem to have a disappointing lack of vision for ourselves, or at least a lack of interest in voicing it.

The exhibit appropriately ends in a question mark. I left the Eastman House meditating on how imaging technology helps us reflect, plan, and become more connected with our neighbors. What I'm frustrated by is a lack of wide-spread motivation, and the need for city-wide integration. Our past is truly impressive, even the parts omitted from this show. But we can't bank on that forever; we need to start thinking forward, en masse.

"Where We Live"

Through February 14

George Eastman House, 900 East Ave.

Tue-Sat 10 a.m.-5 p.m., Thu until 8 p.m., Sun 1-5 p.m.

$4-$10 | 271-3361, eastmanhouse.org