||A Review of: Diane Arbus Revelations
by Christopher Ondaatje
When Diane Arbus died in 1971 the library she left behind showed
her active interest in myth. Among the volumes found were several
by Robert Graves, The White Goddess and The Golden Ass. Others
included James Stephens's The Crock of Gold, J R Tolkien's The
Hobbit, Ovid's Metamorphoses, Sigmund Freud's An Introduction to
Psychoanalysis, and The Psychopathology of Everyday Life, C G Jung's
Modern Man in Search of a Soul. Friedrich Nietzsche's Thus Spake
Zanathustra, and Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces
were also there. She was a serious reader and her literary works
are an intriguing insight into her development. She became involved
in photography when she married Allan Arbus in 1941, but it was
only after her marriage floundered in 1957 that she devoted herself
to photographing society's outcasts. Then, almost with a manic zeal,
in a mere thirteen years, she brought forth an astonishing collection
of material which explores a wholly original force in photography.
Diane Arbus: Revelations, the retrospective of her work at the San
Francisco Museum of Modern art, which ends this month on the 8th
February, is only the second major exhibition since the artist died.
The last was held by the Museum of Modern Art in New York in 1972.
The retrospective will be shown in London at the Victoria and Albert
Museum in October 2005. This book, by far the most expansive of
any book on Arbus so far, and published in tandem with the
retrospective, shows two hundred full-page duotones of the artist's
photographs, many of which have never been seen before. The book
also includes an explanatory and compassionate essay by Sandras
Phillips-the senior curator of photography at the San Francisco
Museum of Modern Art; and a discussion of Arbus' printing techniques
by Neil Selkirk, the only person authorised to print her photographs
since her death. There is also a 104-page chronology compiled by
Doon Arbus, the artist's eldest daughter, and Elizabeth Sussman, a
guest curator at San Francisco's museum, which, by using three
hundred additional images together with letters, notes and other
writings, provides a mesmerising biography of the tortured photographer.
It is bound to be a compelling and controversial document.
Diane Arbus was born Diane Nemerov in 1923, into a wealthy New York
Jewish family. She grew up privileged but isolated in the 1930s,
sent to the best private New York schools, but not to college. She
married Allan Arbus when she was nineteen years old, and the following
year opened a fashion photography studio with her husband. Eleven
years later, separated from her husband, and having devoted herself
for over a decade to stylised fashion photography, she changed her
focus to photographing people who lived "on the edge".
The following industrious thirteen years provided the main body of
work featured in the retrospective and in this book.
Norman Mailer once said "giving a camera to Diane Arbus is
like giving a hand grenade to a baby." He was one of her early
sitters, as were the lovers Erik Bruhn and Rudolph Nureyev, as well
as the seductress Mae West in her bedroom. "I want to photograph
evil," she declared. She also photographed herself nude and
pregnant-a strangely alluring and vulnerable portrait. But increasingly
Arbus directed her attention to photographing outsiders: eccentrics,
nudists, the mentally retarded, transsexuals, dwarfs, vagrants,
female impersonators, freaks. Forbidden fruit. She developed a
unique understanding of the relationship between photographer and
subject. "I really believe there are things which nobody would
see unless I photographed them," she said, and added, "For
me the subject of the picture is always more important than the
picture." She did not romanticise her subjects. Instead she
acknowledged their complexity.
In 1962 Arbus switched from a 35mm Nikon SLR to a 2-twin-lens reflex
Rolleiflex camera and then a Mamiyaflex. With the larger square
negative she achieved a more precise sharper image-more light and
more clarity. Using a 35mm camera allowed Arbus to capture her
subject and then divorce herself from it just as Cartier-Bresson
did, calling the resulting photographs "images la sauvette"
(pictures on the run). However, looking down into the bulkier
2-camera, invariably held at waist level, forced the subject to
cooperate and participate. Conseqently, this permitted Arbus to
create a tension and to become emotionally involved with her subjects.
She captured this tension and looked for it, admitting "I think
it does, a little, hurt to be photographed." Indeed, some of
her heart-rending portraits like Child with a toy hand grenade in
Central Park, NYC, 1962, and A Jewish giant at home with his Parents
in the Bronx, NY, 1970 defy analysis. Initially, with the wide-angled
Rolleiflex Arbus tended to isolate her subject: " this visual
effect served to emphasise the psychological component of the subject
" The later 2-Mamiyaflex she favoured did not have a wide-angle
lens and enabled her to frame her intensely personal square-shaped
portraits with irregular black borders. "The borders called
attention to the fact that the print is an image on a two-dimensional
sheet of paper rather than an objective', window-like view onto the
subject. This in combination with the use of flash helped to assert
the picture as a real, tactile object made by someone, an expression
of someone's point of view." Certainly no photographer before
or after Arbus has been able to use the uncropped square image to
such enduring advantage. Her subjects literally expose themselves
in the centre of the square format which became her trademark.
For many years Diane Arbus had suffered from severe depression. She
contracted hepatitis in 1966 and then again in 1968-a devastatingly
depressive sickness. Nevertheless she had completed an amazingly
productive period of work. In 1971 she was 48. She spent the last
week of June 1971, teaching at Hampshire College in Amherst,
Massachusetts. She then returned to her apartment on Central Park
West in New York. She saw friends, but she was alone. Her ex-husband,
Allan Arbus, had left for California. Her daughter Doon was in
Paris, and her younger daughter Amy was in boarding school. On July
26 ,1971, after swallowing barbiturates, she slashed her wrists and
died with her clothes on in an empty bathtub. When her body was
found some days later decomposition had already set in.
The manner in which Diane Arbus died was a symbolic and grotesque
conclusion to an unhappy life. In a curious way it drew attention
to the very sincerity of her photographs. It certainly changed
forever the way in which her work was viewed. We are indeed lucky
to be able to revel in the genius of this extraordinary artist in
this exceptional documentary of her work.