When photographer Francesca Woodman killed herself at the age of 22—a leap from a Manhattan loft—she had already produced a compelling body of work. Haunting but not morbid, hunting eros with equanimity, she wasn’t Sylvia Plath cutting her teeth on death. Woodman was more the girl next door, exploring the mystery of femaleness when no one was looking. Her photographs let us look. This exhibition focuses on work from 1975 to 1979, the years of her creative coming of age, and features over 40 unique vintage prints, along with notes, letters, postcards, and other ephemera. —L.J.