We truly live in an age of mass media. By that I mean, media both by and for the masses. For example, I am writing this post while sitting on a plastic lawn chair outside my home. I'm writing my own content to be illustrated with my own photos. With the click of a mouse, (or, in this case, the tap of a screen) it will be uploaded to the internet to be accessed by anyone who wants to see it. In a very real sense I am my own production and publishing company. Just about anyone with a Facebook or other social media account functions, to a greater or lesser degree in the same way.
I am a big believer in the sharing of creative, artistic expression. I've always thought that it is kind of pointless to learn and practise any craft if it is never to be shared with anyone. I mean there must be millions of artists of all kinds, practising their various crafts in seclusion, whose work will never be known or appreciated. In the case of Vivian Maier, the world almost never got to see the work of a master street photographer. Indeed, the appreciation of her work came about, almost by accident, after her death.
Ok, let me back up a bit. This nascent interest in Vivian Maier all started with my employer encouraging me to use up some of my holiday time. They don't like to do a large payout at the end of the year. Fine with me! I decided, without any holiday plans, to take the equivalent of a week off. After a few days of getting caught up on housework, and coming to the realization that one is NEVER caught up on housework, I decided to do a day trip to the nearby city of Hamilton, On.
I like Hamilton. It is a very cool place. It is a city built on an industrial core, (the steel industry) but yet has a strong arts community. It has an aesthetic which is all it's own. It is a combination working class feel along with a fundamental appreciation of beauty and history. The city has a lot to offer and punches well above its weight in terms of attractions. Yet it does so without the pretentiousness of a larger centre like Toronto.
So, anyway, I thought that I'd head to to Hamilton for my little day trip. Before going, I decided to check out what was on at the AGH (Art Gallery of Hamilton). To my surprise, they had an exhibition of the work of Vivian Maier.
You'd almost have to be living under a rock, (especially if you're part of the photographic community ) to not have heard of Vivian Maier. Her story is intriguing. The reclusive nanny who, in her spare time, pursued street photography in New York and Chicago. She amassed a collection of over 100,00 images, yet in her lifetime never shared them with anyone. Her genius as a street photographer was not discovered until after her death. Like most people, I had heard of her enigmatic story and seen a few of her photos on line. Yet, I had never taken a serious look at her work. So it all came together. I would spend the day in one of my favourite cities making photographs of scenes that are a little less familiar and also go to the AGH to view the Vivian Maier exhibit.
I arranged for a local shuttle to take me to nearby Brantford where I caught the Go bus to Hamilton. To get to downtown Hamilton, I had to change buses at McMaster University. The bus that I took from McMaster was one of the newer (Well new to me.) double decker buses that Go has been operating for a few years now. I took the opportunity to go up to the upper deck and managed to get a seat right at the front windshield. It was kind of cool. I rode into town like a conquering general, snapping pictures all the way!
It was almost lunch time when I got downtown. I decided to grab a bite before I went to the gallery. It's no fun trying to appreciate great images with a rumbling stomach. It's even harder to MAKE great images on an empty stomach. At least so I've been told. I'll let you know when I make a great image!
With that in mind, I wandered in to Jackson Square but decided that I wanted something a little different than the usual food court franchise fare. From Jackson Square, I meandered over to adjoining Hamilton City Centre. I found what I was looking for in a food counter called Perfect Plate. The owner said that he was going to make me a regular customer and he did! He put together an awesome plate of shawarma chicken, long grain vegetable rice and a very nice fresh salad. I think it all came in at under $10.00 complete with a can of pop. Great deal for a great meal!
With lunch out of the way, I made my way across King St E. to the Art Gallery of Hamilton. I paid my admission and went into the gallery rooms. Like most people, at first I just looked at the images long enough to identify them. Most of the photos were taken in New York and Chicago and, having visited Chicago a few years ago, I could recognize some of the landmarks that appeared in her streetscapes. But then my inner photographer kicked in and I started to really appreciate what I was looking at. I started to understand what she was trying to say with each image she took. Almost every image told a story or made a statement in some way. Even the ones where the meaning was a little more obscure were just damn good street portraits! Although she never worked as a professional photographer, here was a woman who knew about light and, more importantly, knew how to capture it in amazing images.
So how did she do it? I think there are many aspects at play here. For one thing, the camera she used for most of her work was a Rolleiflex. The Rolleiflex is a fairly sophisticated camera offering complete control of shutter speed, aperture and focus. It has a waist level viewfinder so that the photographer has to look down to focus and compose the picture. However, to the photographically uninitiated, the camera would appear as nothing more than a slightly fancy box camera. Inexpensive box cameras, like the Kodak Brownie were a common camera used by family photographers and tourists of the day. Secondly, most professional photographers of her day were men. The average person on the street probably wouldn't associate a woman with doing serious photographic work. Thirdly, she was an unassuming looking person. She did a lot of self portraits. She would photograph her reflection in mirrors or other shiny objects. ( The selfy obsessed generation of today would do well to learn from her skills. ) In each of them she appears as a rather plain woman. Perhaps even a little strait-laced , not particularly pretty or fashionable. She was the kind of person who would not stand out from the crowd.
So she would appear as a plain middle aged woman on the street. Head down, fiddling with what looked to be an old box camera. Perhaps a misplaced tourist. A slight oddity perhaps, but nothing more. I believe this gave her the ability to just blend in. She found that perfect photographer's balance of being part of the scene but simultaneously being far enough separated to perform the task of capturing it. Also, with no intent of sharing her photos with anyone, she had the lonely luxury of composing her images to simply please herself. In this age of the internet, photo sharing and social media, she achieved a Tao that most photographers and artists struggle to attain. She had consummate faith in her own vision.
Of course the question that will never be answered is why she took so many amazing photographs if she had no intention of showing them to anyone else? That is the enigma that is Vivian Maier. She took the answer to that question to her grave.
Lastly, as a photographer, I have to ask myself, "What can I learn from the work of Vivian Maier?" Two things come to mind. One is to find that ineffable balance of being of the scene while simultaneously being in the process of capturing it. To a modest degree I have achieved that. In the small town where I live, people have become so accustomed to seeing me wandering around with a camera that I am usually only questioned when I appear without it. A simple walk to the variety store often includes someone asking "Hey! Where's your camera? " I guess, to that end, I've become part of the scenery around here. It allows me a fair bit of creative freedom. The other aspect of my photographic sojourn that needs work is an increase in faith in my own vision. Like everyone else in this age of mass media, I post a lot of my pictures to the web. Also, like most people these days, I'd be a liar if I didn't admit to looking at the number of "likes" and views my stuff accumulates. It may sound a little self centered, but I need to think outside the box a little more without worrying about how my stuff is regarded. It really is the only way to develop a more progressive approach to the craft.
I need to develop a bit more faith in my own view of the world. That being said, I'm going to grab a camera and go see what I can see. I might share some of the shots I take. I might not. It's not enough for me to take pretty pictures of the world around me. I have to find my own vision.
...more later
