W Eugene Smith

The definition of a great photographer is elusive. It begins in the mind, the vision of a unique genius. The photographers who have been among the most eloquent interpreters of our time share a synthesis of heart, imagination and critical intellect. Their life's work--so varied in subject and style--reveals the seriousness and beauty of their creative achievements.

For decades, photographer Milton Rogovin and his wife Anne sought out the people they call the "forgotten ones," the hard working, hard-luck or just plain hardened of society, capturing their faces--their lives really--with a vintage Rolleiflex camera and black-and-white film. "I'm not trying to entertain people. I want to let them know that there are people in this world who are poor and should be paid attention to," says Rogovin, at 90 as committed as ever to his cause.

"Seeing. It's something most of us take for granted. Oh, most of us -- looking is the art of not bumping into things. Seeing is the absorption of all the visual and tactile information available at the moment. So much of seeing involves feeling, feeling the essence of life. I've always had a voracious appetite for imagery, and in the past I've collected works by American illustrator Lynd K. Ward, Belgian graphic artist Frans Masereel and Dutch artist M. C. Escher.

Photographs on view at the Temporary Contemporary look like stills from high-minded American movies of the '40s and '50s. These images of grizzled GIs and noble nurses are at once grittily realistic and a little too artificial, like a film that's been a touch over art-directed. I mean can anybody seriously believe that that shot of three Spanish Guardia Civil was not staged?

Return to the days and pages of Life magazine or track the evolution of contemporary art since the '60s with two new exhibitions opening Monday at the Museum of Contemporary Art's Temporary Contemporary facility. "W. Eugene Smith: Let Truth Be the Prejudice" includes 250 photographs by Smith, the legendary photojournalist who worked for Life as well as Look and Collier's magazines before his death in 1978.

"Eyes of Time: Photojournalism in America" is not a subtle show. Picture after picture, for 150 works, it hits you over the head. But, then, photojournalism is anything but a subtle medium. A house burns. A plane crashes. A soldier kisses his wife goodby. Most photojournalism is remembered only as long as the story is hot. But sometimes, as is aptly illustrated in this exhibition at the Museum of Photographic Arts in Balboa Park, a picture becomes an icon.

Fox's smash hit "The Simpsons" was named best animated program of the 1989-90 TV season during Saturday's portion of the 42nd annual Emmy Awards, which covered 44 categories among nighttime programs. "The Simpsons," not eligible under current rules of the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences to be entered in the outstanding comedy series category, won out over nominees "Garfield's Feline Fantasies," "Garfield's Thanksgiving," "Why, Charlie Brown, Why?"

Sebastiao Salgado is not as well as he appears. The photographer has just returned from the refugee camps of Tanzania, the war-ravaged streets and hills of Rwanda, the slowly rebuilding society of Mozambique, only to find himself suffering from malaria. The Brazilian-born photographer, whose work can be seen at the Fahey/Klein Gallery through Sept.

India has never bored Mary Ellen Mark. She has returned often since 1969, when she first aimed her cameras at the exhilarating swirl of India's beauty and culture, its tangle of poverty, joy and hopelessness. "I feel very at home there," Mark said. "In a strange way, it's where I belong."

Woody Allen is such a notoriously private filmmaker it's not surprising to learn that once he found a set photographer he trusted, he never used another one. That photographer is Brian Hamill, a 49-year-old native New Yorker whose association with Allen began in 1976 when Hamill's brother, writer Pete Hamill, introduced him to the director at Elaine's.