You may have a set of images that come to mind when someone says “Annie Leibovitz.” Those probably include celebrities in various stages of undress, but so expressive and artfully staged that their famous identities slip away. Leibovitz’s new collection, Pilgrimage, is a dramatic departure, and yet not: These scenes have no people, but manage to evoke those who inhabited them—Ansel Adams’ darkroom, for example, and Sigmund Freud’s couch—as if they had just left the frame. For Leibovitz, it’s a deeply personal work, composed while her multimillion-dollar fortune was crumbling under unpaid debts. “I needed to save myself,” she told the New York Times, of her motivations. “I needed to remind myself of what I like to do, what I can do.”
Leibovitz signs copies of her book at 7 p.m. at Politics & Prose Bookstore, 5015 Connecticut Ave. NW. Free. (202) 364-1919.