Curry, a self-taught photographer, is an Omaha native who roams in search of raw, honest, lived moments that reveal beauty hidden in plain sight. His grassroots images are from the street and the heart. In an artist statement, he shared, “I’m drawn to … moments that often go unnoticed. Through my lens, I aim to … highlight the beauty in the ordinary.”

Stennis-Vinson said Curry “captures the essence of everyday life in Omaha,“ showcasing its “vibrant culture and community, taking viewers on a journey through day-to-night life.” Added Stennis-Vinson, “This exhibition is especially significant in its portrayal of the Black community – offering a nuanced perspective that challenges viewers to reevaluate their perceptions. His photographs invite viewers to connect with the city and its people on a deeper level.”

Curry’s Union images portray moments he found covering certain events, like Native Omaha Days, or ones he happened upon as people hung out, chilled, played, and in one case, jogged.

Omaha Days at night

The Omaha North graduate strives to involve the viewer in those never-to-be-repeated beats. He goes wherever the action is or wherever his eye takes him. “I love the chase. I love the rarity of things. If I’m not told that I can’t be there, hey, I’m roaming, I’m doing my thing. It’s all art. I’ve learned in life there ain’t no rules, so I’m just doing stuff. As long as you’re not hurting nobody or in the way, I think you should do whatever the hell you want.”

The fiercely independent Curry tested highly in school and yet, he said, “I was a ‘C’ average student because I did not do homework. I could solve all the formulas, but I didn’t see a reason to do the homework since I passed all the tests.” He acknowledged that to this day, “My structure and discipline ain’t that good, but I am who I am and I’m cool with that.” 

Long ago told “you have to pick” what kind of photographer to be, he ignored the advice to do documentary and art photography. He started with a disposable camera, then used a cell phone camera. Since being gifted a digital T5 Cannon, he’s made it his go-to imagemaking tool.

He’s part of a new Union program designed to support emerging artists. “We’re providing professional development opportunities and exhibition space in our Blue Room gallery, aiming to help local artists take their careers to the next level with progressional curation,” said Stennis-Vinson. “Our goal is to break down barriers and obstacles many artists face in navigating the professional art world. By providing guidance and support, we’re helping build the skills and confidence they need to succeed.”

Though untrained, Curry has made an informal study of magazine photography and classic art, and it confirms for him that he practices a classic compositional style of “thirds.” He rarely centers anything in the frame but instead composes with a flow in mind. “I think geometrically.” He does his own editing. He’s not into making technically perfect images or cropping for effect. “I do not focus on the crispness or perfection. I don’t focus on any of that. Whatever the mood or vibe of what I’m taking a picture of, that’s what I want you to see, too.” 

For Curry, it’s all about getting the here and now as that proverbial fly on the wall. His intentionality around being a discreet observer combined with the influence of French impressionists explains the energy and immediacy he goes for in his work.

“That perfectly explains what I do,” he said. “I like pictures that are posed, but I really like just capturing the moment. I like that shit, it’s natural. I pay respect to the past and I have hope for the future, but I know that I live right now, so I’m trying to do stuff right now.” 

Sitting and standing on a barricade 

He enjoys celebrating his hometown and overturning misconceptions. “A lot of people in Omaha have an inferiority complex about this place, But there’s things we got that nobody else got. The good things and beauty that we do have, we’ve got to pay attention to that.” 

Expanding on that thought in his artist statement, he wrote, “Omaha’s identity is complex, often misunderstood, and frequently questioned. Yet, beneath the surface lies a rich tapestry of experiences, traditions and stories.”  

In that vein his work is often compared to that of the late Omaha photographer Rudy Smith, who documented a treasure trove of North O and greater Omaha subjects.

Like most natives who travel outside the state, Curry often runs up against stereotypes that Omaha is country, hick and flat.

“There’s so much about Omaha you don’t know until you’re here,” he said. 

Omaha Days parade on 30th Street

He gets frustrated trying to explain in words that Omaha is straight up a city, is fly, and has hills. He prefers to let his photos do the talking. Perhaps the most common misperception he encounters outside Nebraska is that Omaha lacks diversity.

“I think it’s diverse as hell. I’ve always seen the diversity,” said Curry, who attended racially mixed schools, lived in diverse neighborhoods and intersected with ethnic and refugee populations. 

As a transplant to Omaha who’s grown to love the city, Union Executive Director Lakesha Green appreciates how the photographer so passionately and thoroughly portrays the metro, especially the North Omaha community that shaped him. 

“It has been an absolute joy to work with and mentor Thomas Curry – a brilliant artist with a spirit that radiates light. His exhibition is a powerful reflection of the culture and roots of North Omaha, and that’s what makes it both special and deeply authentic. Thomas’ work reminds us of the joy and richness within North Omaha – stories and experiences that deserve to be celebrated loudly and often.”

Curry’s overall work ranges far beyond what’s sampled at The Union. He just released a new photobook, also titled Urban Omaha, that depicts a wider range of his beloved hometown from cityscapes to landscapes, from big group celebrations to intimate asides. Many images in that book and in other photobooks he’s created are of nature scenes. “I’m a nature person.”

Butterfly at Healing Roots African Diaspora Garden

A series of shots show a bird perching and eating on a rooftop while other birds dive bomb, but it’s too big and busy to be bothered. “That’s nature right on 30th and Ames. With crackheads fighting and fire trucks racing past down below you’ve got nature going on above,” he said. “I’m as much on these as I am on the club scene or architecture. I like all of that. I’m Urban Omaha definitely. I’m Omaha to the heart. But I’m on the Earth, bro, and I’m a part of the universe. So that’s what I’m thinking all the time. I’m very simple and I’m very complex at the same time.” 

On the varied images he makes, he said, “It seems so random but it isn’t. Everything’s connected.”

One of his series documents the tumult and controversy that arose when The Union featured a front window display with the “n” word. Protests ensued and the window got smashed. Another hard-edged project documented the aftermath of the 2020 Omaha police shooting that killed James Scurlock. He purposely recorded the pulse of a city torn by injustice in a photobook.

“I went through the whole city. They had a curfew that night but people weren’t going for that. I was there for the downtown protest scenes, a prayer circle led by Josh Dotzler, a memorial at the Malcolm X center. That was powerful. I got the whole vibe of the city. It was electric. That’s the kind of stuff I live for.” 

’90s party at Omaha Design Center

He later created a flip book with a selection of his Scurlock protest images for the Malcolm X Memorial Foundation, where it’s on display and gets heavy use. He’s exhibited his work there, at Culxr House, Fabric Lab and Metropolitan Community College’s Mule Barn.

He lives for opportunities to capture once-in-a-lifetime experiences such as being there for someone getting out of prison and reuniting with family. “I love that,” he said. “When you start telling me stuff like that, it’s a project for me, it’s heart for me. My camera is connected to my hand and my hand is connected to my eye.” And his eye is connected to his heart.

While he embraces how photography is ubiquitous and accessible due to digital technology, he’s troubled there’s not always appreciation for what a true photographer brings to the table. 

Boys on bikes 24th Street 

“I’m trying to lose that stigma that pictures are simple because you just click-click-click. That’s true in a way, but it’s not true in a way. I’ve got the eye to see what others can’t. I see the picture already when I take it. Everyday, I’m kind of looking for something. Sometimes it seems like it ain’t nothing, but it is, especially if you take a picture of it. It all gets documented.”

He places great value on the work he does and hopes people can see beyond the seemingly transient nature of photographs to recognize their enduring hold as history markers. “I always tell people your life is a book or a movie. It’s all scenes and chapters. When people see the pictures, even years after, they tell me they feel like they’re there again. And if they weren’t there, they tell me the pictures made them feel like they were. That’s exactly what I go for. I love that. People warm my heart when they say, ‘I’ve got a picture by you.’” 

Though he mostly shoots in color, he sometimes works in black and white, even processing in sepia. His photobooks,  which he considers “art projects,” often include a mix of color and black and white. sometimes of the same subject. “It’s a sweet and salty type of thing – that contrast.” He writes descriptions on some prints in the style of vintage photos. “I try to make it look a little rustic.”

He prefers handshake deals over contracts, and as a result his work sometimes gets published in unexpected places.

Back to school backpack giveaway 

In capturing his hometown, literally anything and everything is potential subject matter. “Yeah, absolutely. I call myself a microcosm of Omaha. I’m always saying that. Omaha is big, but it’s small at the same time. Everything about Omaha is kind of in the middle. We’re not east, we’re not west.“ By being in the middle, he added, Omaha’s not captive to trends. “We get to choose the slang we want or what we wear.”

Not all his subjects are ordinary. He’s documented Warren Buffett, Cathy Hughes, Terence Crawford, Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Whether celebrities or homies or CEOs, whether  Husker football, parades, parties or kids in the park, he’s after the truth.

Presenting his work, he often goes by Cancur, a nod to his father’s family, the Cannons, and his mother’s family, the Currys. He talks openly about wanting to be recognized well beyond Omaha and his belief that his work will one day be highly collected. Photography is his only gig. There’s no Plan B or turning back. “I don’t work a regular job. I’m trying to make this,” he said. He calls freelancing’s volatility “too blotchy,” adding, “Sometimes I’m rich and sometimes I’m broke for a long time.” He looks to have more stability and consistency. “I’m getting there.” 

Dance team at Carter Lake 

Clients and curators find Curry via word of mouth and social media, particularly his Facebook and Instagram pages. People interested in purchasing his photobooks can contact him via those platforms. Or they can find him out and about on the street.  He doesn’t have a website by choice. “I’m old school with a lot of things and not in a bad way. It’s just that I like simplicity.”

However you do find his work, he said, “I want you to feel like you experienced something and it’s going to go somewhere in your life.”