Apart from the unmistakable talent immediately evident in her photographs ~ the technical expertise, intimacy, compositional beauty ~ I think Arbus' genius for confrontation discomfits a lot of viewers, and rightfully so, but Sontag had it exactly wrong: it's the way in which the images (and the implication of the image-capturer) destabilize concepts of "normalcy" and "freakishness" that unsettles. Arbus was no more responsible for being born into privilege than was Sontag, but she was passionately committed to human engagement despite that her privilege meant she didn't have to; and, moreover, she did so without elitism or overt ego. Reading anything about her inner life and her motivations illuminates the depth of her compassion. The "aristocrats" quote sums it up so beautifully. Airbrushing and other such falsifications are exploitative. Recognizing a marginalized or otherwise ignored person in her or his unadorned humanity is quite the opposite.
@ritualtheory: now available on vinyl: no that was really interesting. and a step further just as she was no more responsible being born into privilege than Sontag, she was not responsible for what class/status she was born into just as her photographic subjects had no control over who they were born as. i think she was acknowledging that at the base level we're all human beings who need a bit of affection and attention and people only consider it exploitative because it was a "rich, healthy person" photographing "sick freaks" however neither of those parties had any control over those status's and labels so its pretty unfair to call it exploitative. if they weren't photographed it would just be perpetuating the problem of a silenced and ignored group of people.
@ritualtheory: now available on vinyl: I know not a think about photography or Arbus, but that was really really compelling and informative - thank you.
I went to an Arbus exhibit a few years ago at the Huntington, and I thought that it was funny that I read the sort of "summary" plaque at the beginning that talked about her life and my friends didn't. So they were shocked when they reached the end of the exhibit and found out she had committed suicide, while I was able to see it the whole way through. I thought a lot of her photos were tinged with sadness, and not just sadness, but that overwhelming feeling that nothing will ever get better. Her "freaks" portraits seemed to me to be a way of mourning that these were, in their hearts, perfectly normal people who would never, ever get a fair shake from society. The tragedy of that, probably because she felt, in her heart, like a freak, was too much to bear.
Or I was projecting, because that's what you do when you know at the beginning how the story ends. But I saw periods of happiness, too. It wasn't her whole life. Just most of it.
To a certain extent, all photography is voyeuristic - that's kind of the point. It seems like the real issue is with the art enthusiasts who view Arbus's subjects as people to be pitied and protected instead of photographed.
@honey_roasted: Or rather, viewing society's "freaks" makes them uncomfortable, and thus they would rather embrace the guise that such people should be protected by being hidden from view rather than being photographed.
hmmm well i think part of what makes people uncomfortable with her photographs is that these are people society in general chooses to ignore or sweep under the rug perhaps being confronted straight on with these images makes people uncomfortable or have a negative view towards the works because it forces us to accept difficult or awkward situations and to acknowledge this group of people that presents tough questions. i think people are really unaware of the affect the audience has on art. art is signs and has signifiers its a code that is open to multiple interpretations.
@milominderbinder: Yes. Plus, she had her own very definite strangeness making her a very definite "outsider" - her depression. Her strangeness was on the inside, hidden to the naked eye, while some of the people she shot had more visible oddness, but its still a common thread. Given her struggles with her own 'difference' it makes sense to me that she was fascinated with people who had survived theirs. In that sense her art becomes much more personal, less voyeuristic, more seeking answers for herself. Also, her career was cut short- we never know what she would have done had she lived, so we are judging her on an incomplete body of work...
I don't think there is a line, because it's so blurry it covers both sides. Also, the meaning of art cannot exist without its viewers, so it really depends on who's looking, no?
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My apologies for the essay, but I'm a fan.
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Or I was projecting, because that's what you do when you know at the beginning how the story ends. But I saw periods of happiness, too. It wasn't her whole life. Just most of it.
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...Hopefully some of that makes sense.
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