Last week I spent an entire day walking
up and down the streets of a seaside town on a garden tour. The gardens, were
to say the least, gorgeous, various, and photogenic. But the absolute best
shots were the people visiting the town or working there.
As an amateur photographer,
I know the rules against taking intrusive photos. As a writer, I know how to
use what I see in whatever I’m writing. The rules of behavior are different for
writers and photographers, and I have yet to learn how to use a camera to spy
on people on the street without getting caught, though I can easily do so as a
writer. This has come to the fore after seeing a terrific film documentary
about an unknown photographer, truly one of the almost-lost great artists of
her generation. Finding Vivian Maier
begins when a young man, looking for images of old Chicago, buys a trunk full
of negatives at auction.
Vivian emerges as a very odd
creature who sought out the marginal, outcast, and rejected of society. Her
images are startling, arresting, striking, moving. She saw what most people
choose not to see, and are even trained not to see. Years ago a colleague
wondered aloud how a good friend born into a high caste in India could go about
every day and not see or be moved by the suffering all around her. The same
certainly can be said of many in the States. But Vivian was different. She never
turned away from the suffering; instead she sought them out. She left behind
over 100,000 negatives and dozens of rolls of undeveloped color film. It
appears, by the end of the movie, that the only reason she didn't present her
work to the world at large was because she probably didn't know how to go about
it. That and her tendency to hoarding would have derailed her efforts to become
established as a photographer. She was very peculiar.
Vivian didn't care what people
thought of her. Most artists in any medium or genre feel much the same. But we
usually acknowledge the boundaries of mainstream society and honor them. Vivian
tripped over them and kept going, most of the time. She used a Rolleiflex,
which gives the photographer a distinct advantage. She can hold the camera at
waist level, focus and shoot, without the object of her attentions appreciating
that a photograph is being taken. The current popular cameras (Canon, Nikon, Pentax,
etc.) are held up to the eye, which gives away what we're doing. I use a Pentax, and even when looking through a window, anyone can tell what I'm up to. You can see
the problem. It's easier for a writer. 
I may not be able to photograph
strangers on the street without first getting permission and overcoming my
innate reluctance to invade another's privacy, but I can write down everything
I see to use in a story or a novel without regard to its origins. Whenever
anyone asks if I write about real people, my answer is always no. But I often
encounter an image that is so memorable, so vivid, that I have to use it. The
image is a springboard to something else; it is not a record of real life.
Vivian's life teaches something
else. She became a nanny so she could be outdoors more, which for her meant the
opportunity to photograph. She led her charges into the parts of town other
people tried to avoid. To get the photographs she wanted, she had to be
fearless. For any artist or writer, to get the result we want we have to drive
forward, crush any doubts, and focus strictly on the work. We have to be
fearless in another way.
Any good work of art (or craft)
brings to the viewer the opportunity to see something as if for the first time.
The creator records the experience, lives it and preserves it for another. And
the reader or viewer is given a new set of eyes, a new experience of the
mundane, after which it is no longer mundane. Artists like Vivian Maier remind
us of this, and thereby enrich our work. As peculiar as she was, she could see
beyond the veils of society and left behind for us a little of what she saw.
My series character Anita Ray uses her camera all the time, for her work and for her
investigations. She doesn't have to worry when someone challenges her because she is an established photographer, with a gallery of her own. I'm not planning on getting her a Rolleiflex to make it even easier. They cost about $5,000. But I may give her a few things to worry about when someone sees her photographing a private home or a dead body. Why would she be doing that?
Anita's newest adventure is For the Love of Parvati, where she does photograph a corpse.
To learn more about Vivian Maier and
see her photographs, go to http://www.vivianmaier.com
To learn more about the documentary
film, go to http://www.vivianmaier.com/film-finding-vivian-maier/
