#because my husband is legally blind and standing for long periods of time in a narrow space like that is really disorienting and dangerous

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Dawn in Your Eyes Part 17

Summary: Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 17: Alfie and Caroline discuss names. Alfie finds out what a pain in the ass it is to be partially blind. 

            Pilot was extremely relieved when Caroline was returned to him. He refused to leave her side for more than a minute a few days after they were reunited. Of course, that really meant just going back and forth from Elizabeth’s home to the hospital.

            Julia and Alfie didn’t want her living on her own for obvious reasons after the kidnapping. It was an adjustment period, and Caroline wasn’t sure how long it would last. Would things return to normal once Alfie was cleared to leave the hospital?

            Maybe things would never go back to the way they were. Not after such an event. And not since they were due to have a baby in less than six months.

            Since most of her days were sat in the hospital or at Elizabeth and Richard’s, Caroline had plenty of time to process what had happened and what was coming next.

            Alfie assured her that the men who had taken her would be dealt with accordingly. That’s all he had to say on the matter. He wasn’t going to tell his wife that two men were dead and the other two were tied up in the cellar of the bakery. Waiting until Alfie was back on his feet so he could kill them properly. A long, torturous, painful death seemed suitable.

            Some of his men had already roughed them up a bit to learn their motives. It was reported to Alfie that they were Italians although not officially linked to Sabini. Just a group of rabid young men who wanted the wealth and power that Darby had. Hoping to impress him, instead, they made a critical error. Even Sabini was wise enough to know that kidnapping Alfie Solomons’ blind wife was a huge mistake.

            Alfie understood that but wanted to make an example out of the rogue men. To let anyone, not just the Italians, that his family was not to be messed with.

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

            “Elizabeth had Misty write some names down for me.” Caroline arrived one day with a piece of paper in her hand. She found her usual seat beside Alfie’s hospital bed and sat.

            “Names for what?” Alfie reached for his glasses. It seemed that the blindness in his left eye would be long-lasting, if not permanent. But he was coping. Some of the doctors or nurses would sympathize, expecting the man to be devastated with such a drastic change. Alfie would simply bark out a laugh and tell them that his wife had been born blind. Losing sight in one eye wasn’t the end of the world.

            He’d made a similar joke when he first got to see what the bullet had done to his face. He snorted and grimaced. “Well, at least me wife is blind so she won’t leave me for looking like this.”

            The nurse holding the mirror just gave an uncomfortable smile and checked his dose of pain medication to make sure he hadn’t been given more than was necessary.

             “Baby names.” Caroline set her purse down and instructed Pilot to lay down by her feet.

            “That right? Let’s have a look-see then.” He blinked a few times to clear up his vision. Losing half of his sight was still something he needed to get used to. Emotionally, he was just lucky the bullet hadn’t gone straight through his brain. It was easy for him to stand up, dust himself off, and resume life. But the physical limitations were a weight on him. Reading gave him a major headache, his depth perception was utterly fucked, and his right eye was still trying to adjust. But he tried not to confide these hardships to Caroline. It felt so silly complaining to her about being half-blind when she’d never seen the world. He felt it was like whining about losing a finger to someone who’d been born without arms.

            So he tried to convey that everything was just peachy.   

            “Zelda, yeah that’s our great-aunt’s name. James, mhm, Sarah, sure sure, Rose, Helen, Eva, Pearl, Georgia, hang on. She’s only listed one boys name, is this her way of telling us she wants it to be a girl?” He protested.

            Caroline giggled. “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.” She didn’t tell him that, yes, his cousin had been hoping for a girl.

            Alfie grunted. “Ah, now here is a proper Jewish name for a boy. Eli. Proper good name. Not like all these fucking modern names she’s written down.”

            “Did you want something more traditional?” She wondered.

            “Thing is, think me mum gave me a more Western name to fit in, yeah? That way, people wouldn’t be looking down on us even more. ‘Fucking Jews and their wild names, eh? We’re English, ain’t we?’. But I ain’t naming our child outta fear. Ifya like a British name, then that’s fine. But don’t want you to name our child outta fear. Not like our parents did. People are gonna call me kid what they were named whether they like it or not. They have an issue; they can come to me and I’ll give them a well-crafted history of the chosen people. None of this…this bullshit.”

            Caroline nodded slowly. She hadn’t considered his point of view before but did understand it. Knowing Alfie felt so strongly about it, she wanted to grant his wish. Besides, she wanted her child to have a meaningful name, not something that was following a trend. “So more traditional. I think we could find a beautifully Jewish name.” She murmured softly and plucked the paper from his hand. “Zelda is Yiddish. Eli is Hebrew. What else?”

            “I’d hafta think about it,” Alfie admitted. He was starting to get a headache from reading the names his cousin had picked.

            She took his hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

            “Fine, should be about ready to get back home. Fucking sick of this hospital.” He mumbled and squeezed her hand.

            “I know. I want you home so badly.” She sighed. “I love Elizabeth and Richard but I miss being together, just us two.”  

            “You can admit it, Liz can be overbearing.” Alfie chuckled.

            “She is not! She’s wonderful and caring. But I miss being with you in our own home. I want to go back to Letwin or Margate.”

            “I do too.” He raised her hand to kiss her knuckles. “We are due to have a very well-deserved vacation.”

            “We can leave straight from here.” Caroline got swept up in the daydream of being whisked away to either of their homes outside of London. Spending quality time with the husband she thought she was going to lose.

            “Well, I’ve got a few things to wrap up here before we do.” He frowned.

            “Like what?”

            “Like loose ends that need dealing with.”

            A cold chill went down Caroline’s spine as she picked up on anger in his voice. “Alfie…whatever you’re planning I’d urge you to stop.”

            “Not planning anything, love.”

            “I know you’re planning.” She argued. “And you ought to tell me the truth.”

            Alfie sighed and rested his head back against the pillows propping him up. He made sure not to touch his face even though he wanted to rub his weary eyes. “There are two men that are still alive. Part of the group that took you.” He told her. “They’ll be my example to those fucking-” He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Caroline, I won’t rest until they pay and the message is well received.”

            She chewed on her lower lip. Part of her wanted the men punished. After all, they had no right to do what they did. However, she knew her husband’s form of punishment was very different from the legal system. And she just wanted the ordeal to be done with. Caroline thought because she was home safe, things were done.

            But of course, they weren’t. And she wasn’t sure if they’d ever be fully settled. Besides, this wasn’t an isolated matter. It was just a symptom of years of Darby and Alfie bickering and fighting back and forth.

            “Alfie, will you look at me?” She reached up to find his cheek.

            “I’m looking at you, love.” He replied quietly.

            “What will it take to get you to give this up?” She asked, her gray eyes pleading. “We’re expecting a child. I don’t want this to continue to interrupt our lives. You were almost killed…”

            “I know, Caroline, I know.” He swallowed and tried to listen with an open mind. Settling arguments with Darby was never easy, often times Alfie just didn’t want to stop fighting. He felt like the man deserved what was coming to him.

            “I can’t have this in my life, and I know you can’t for much longer. You need to settle things. I won’t ask you to change completely but I need to know that my family will be safe. Our family.”

            “I’ll work on it.” He promised, the words coming from his heart. She was right, he didn’t want their child to see the horrors he had to. That was the point of bringing up a child, wasn’t it? To love them and to give them a better life? “Things’ll change. They will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~           

            Alfie returned home much to his and Caroline’s relief. The hospital was becoming very depressing and made Alfie stir crazy.

            Cyril and Apollo went mad when he entered the flat. They nearly knocked him over as they jumped on him excitedly.

            “Alright, alright!” He exclaimed. “Don’t push me now.” He prodded them off and patted them both. “I missed ya mutts too.”

            Caroline laughed softly as Cyril whined. “They’ve been so lost without you. Kept following me around.”

            “Well, at least you had good company.” Alfie chuckled. “Want some tea, love? I need something to settle me head.”

            “Sure.” She let Pilot off his lead. “I’ll be in the sitting room.”

            “Right, just be a mo’.” Alfie went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. He had to blink a few times to try and right his vision. He didn’t think his life would be too changed by the lack of eyesight. He could get around, right?

            However, he was given a nasty wakeup call when he tried pouring the hot water into cups. He was certain he had the spout over the cup, that’s what it looked like. But it turned out his depth perception was worse than he anticipated. Boiling hot water spilled out over the kitchen counter and burned his hand.

            “Fuck!” He hissed and haphazardly set the kettle back on the stovetop but missed by a couple of inches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He went for the sink to put cold water on his hand. Reaching for the tap, he overshot and knocked a bar of soap into the sink. “Fuck!” He growled and tried again, this time grabbing air. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Third time he managed to get a hold of the faucet and turned on the water. It took a few tries to get his hand under the stream of cold water. The string of events boggled his mind. How could he be so deceived by his own sight?

            “Fuck.” He uttered one more time as the water soothed his burn.

            “Alfie?” Caroline called from the next room when she heard banging around. “Are you alright?”

            “Fine, love!” He replied.

            Unconvinced, Caroline walked into the kitchen. “Are you sure?”

            “Just burned me hand a bit.”

            “Did something spill?” She frowned as her stocking-covered foot stepped in a puddle on the tiles.

            “Yeah, just water. Tried pouring but-fuck-I dunno, guess I don’t see quite right with just one working eye.”

            “You’ll have to adjust, that’s all.” She soothed softly and grabbed a hand towel. She found the kettle and the teacups. “Watch.”

            Alfie turned off the tap and walked over. He watched carefully as she tapped the spout of the kettle to the bottom of the teacup before pouring. She kept the tip of her finger a half-inch from the rim. When the water touched her finger, she stopped.

            “It’s all about learning how to live in a world that wasn’t made for you.” She poured the second cup. “You’re clever, you’ll manage. But you need to be patient with yourself.” She set the kettle down and reached a hand to him.

            “Don’t have your sorta patience.” He mumbled sheepishly and took her hand.

            She pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “You’ll find it.” She promised. “But it won’t be easy. Still, I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

            “I fucking love you.” He murmured and kissed her properly.

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Masterlist 

[kfs1001]

Oh, the burning question: marriage or no marriage. Inquiring minds want to know?

There are a number of people wondering about this from several points of view. Some are waiting to point the finger and snicker . . . I told you so. Others are going to say congratulations and wish D luck. Regardless of what side of the fence you stand on, it is D’ s life and D’s decision. He may very well marry for his career. There are many closeted men and women who have. The question still stands, legal wedding or faked nuptials complete with a new bread contract as binding as a legal wedding. The second option leaves it open for both parties to have a real marriage with someone they really love, even though that love will need to remain behind closed doors. Here is the choice?

(Humm . . . my preference would be to walk down the street holding my husband’s hand, but I am not in the same boat as D.)

It is an interesting dilemma which I would not want to be in. Just think of it as an arranged marriage which have nothing to do with love―a contract pertaining to power, status, land, money, fame and the list can go on. Life behind closed doors will go on, with the bearded couple coming home and then going their separate ways. The PR and public face vanishes as they roll their eyes and step away.

Beard weddings can work it both parties are friends and have a good relationship knowing all too well what is expected of them. There are fake marriages where the couple get home to their respective real partners. Their respective, real loves, might themselves be part of a breaded marriage. All you need is to have a system to travel back and forth between the real homes unseen. There are lots of ways to make a fake marriage work, and again, it will only work if all parties get along.

In my belief D is in fact in the closet and does not like his beard . . . well, how can it work if the parties do not get along?

If, from the other perspective of D is straight and in love with M, I have to wish them all the best. The problem is, when you look at video and pictures, he does not look like a man who is in love and who is going to get married. D looks trapped. Mind you, the other side posts tons of video and pictures which shows D and M smiling, laughing and having fun. Who is telling the truth? I do not know and may never know. I have a gut feeling, but that will not hold up in the court of public opinion nor the court of legal opinion

Only the principals in this affair know for certain what is happening. Mind you, even if D whispered in my ear his dislike for his beard, I would never state it because one; D need to give me permission to do so, two; I would need undisputable proof No, the words need to come from D’s mouth and in a public forum where there can be no denial afterword. Until then, I am relatively blind to his reality and filled with hope. 

From the perspective of D being in the closet and in a long-term relationship with C (my believe), I continue to believe this is all part of a lesson, D’s, M’s, C’s and even our souls need to learn. Tibetan Buddhism speak of two ways that someone can be reborn after death. The first is involuntary rebirth under the sway of ‘karma’. The soul is drawn back to life by destructive emotions and desires the soul has not mastered. This is the fate of most of us. A few, select others, through the power of compassion and prayer to benefit others, are believed to be able to choose their place and time of birth as well as their parents. Thus, the soul chooses the circumstances of their rebirth for the benefit of mankind.

The Dalia Lama has said: As human beings we all want to be happy and free from misery. We have learned that he keys to happiness is inner peace. The greatest obstacles to inner peace are disturbing emotions such as anger, attachment, fear, and suspicion, while love and compassion and a sense of universal responsibility are the sources of peace and happiness.

In this regard, the kamacitic cycle brings us back in order to learn compassion, but in doing do, negative karma may become the catalyst of our learning. In this regard, M, RR and others have a role to play because the learning is not just D’s.

In such, sides have been drawn, and lines scribbled in the sand. All sides continue to speculate about the things we hear and see. If we look beyond this life into our past lives and relationships, we carry baggage with us from one to the other. Now, I do not expect you to understand my Buddhist/spiritualist point of view, but I believe in these lessons. I think D is coming to the apex of his lesson with a decision to be made. For all I know, it may already have been made and it is now working through the final chapters of a long book toward a happy ending for all.

D is a carrying person who I believe has a karma anchored by compassion. Now, we look at what D is going through from the view of what D is going through. Ask yourself; what is M or RR learning? Is D the catalyst for their learning as they are for his. What is C learning? When we look at the whole affair from a spiritual point of view, karma has a hold on all of us, principals and spectators alike. As spectators, what are we learning? I have fairly good idea what this is teaching me, though I know I am not at the end of the path yet.

You can see it in how D acts around those he respects, loves and his fans. He is truly happy and smiling and his compassion shines. I believe D wants a happy ending for all. In such I think there will be cooling off period during which M will move into the next phase of her life keeping as much face (in the Japanese meaning) as possible. If played right, they could split with the minimum disruption to their lives.

Being gay is not always easy in a world where many people look at you with distain or worse. Being gay and famous can be a double edge sword. Being gay, in the closet and a celebrity only adds to the problems. We only need to read articles from actors like C/hris C/olfer, M/att D/allas, E/llen D/egeneres, C/olton H/aynes, C R/icky M/artin and N/eil P/atrick H/arris we can see what can happen when you come out and survive.

We can speculate, but, from the perspective of being gay/lesbian and breaded, is marriage (legal or contract) the right way to go? I am not in a position to say yea or nay because I am not in D’s situation. I can only speculate based on my own life experiences. 

From the perspective of the soul and compassion, each of us must look at events and respect decisions that have and will be made..

[solisluccile]

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[amdoca-blog]

diane arbus: in the beginning  

I don’t know why the gallery has used lower case lettering in its promotional material.

 Hayward Gallery, 13 February to 6 May 2019

Organised by The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Curated by Jeff L Rosenheim, Curator in Charge of the Department of Photographs: with Karen Rinaldo, Collections Specialist, Photographs; Martha Deese, Senior Administrator for Exhibitions; and Emily Foss Registrar.  

Supported by Cockayne – Grants for the Arts and The London Community Foundation and Alexander Graham, with additional support from Michael G and C Jane Wilson.  (Hayward Gallery, 2019).

 This exhibition primarily features photographs made with 35mm cameras in and around New York City between 1956 to 1962.  Most of the exhibition photographs are gelatin silver prints made by Arbus.  Most are held in private collections, and in the Diane Arbus Archive at Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

There is also one room displaying A Box of Ten Photographs, a project she worked on between 1969 and 1971.  These photographs, on loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum, were printed posthumously by her assistant and student Neil Selkirk (Guggenheim, 2019).

I wondered why nine of these later works are being displayed in a separate room at an exhibition subtitled ‘in the beginning’.  Xmas Tree in a living room in Levittown, L.I. 1962 is in the previous room.  There is no explanation why.  Were they included to show how her work changed over time?  They are already kept in London.  

There are two rooms of photographs arranged on grids of white columns, “…visitors are free to follow any path they choose as there are only beginnings – no middle and probably no end…”  (Hayward Gallery, 2019).  I found myself first walking to the back of the room, up and down ‘aisles’ in the opposite direction to other exhibition-goers, to avoid crowding around the prints and to get a better view.  Also, what does this statement mean; that her work endures?  After visiting the exhibition, I did some reading. I found this quote from a letter she sent to friends in 1957,

 “… I am full of a sense of promise, like I often have, the feeling of always being at the beginning…” (Arbus et al, 2012: 141).

I do not know if the organisers of the exhibition are alluding to this remark.  I learned that Arbus committed suicide a year after A Box of Ten, a limited portfolio of special prints, with inscribed vellums, was published (Smithsonian, s.d)

Only four sets are known to have been bought in her lifetime, “...by an elite group..” . (Hayward Gallery notice).  The notice tells us Marvin Israel designed the packaging, but does not explain who he was.  During my reading after the event I learned he was her partner; an artist and, from 1961, art director of Harper’s Bazaar which published her work during the period the Hayward exhibition mainly focusses on.

Between 1956 and 1962 Arbus stopped using a medium format Rolleiflex in favour of a 35mm Nikon (Arbus et al, 2012: 139). Unlike bulky 2 ¼ cameras which “…require the subject’s cooperation and participation…”  (Arbus et al, 2012: 59), 35 mm SLRs allow photographers to capture moments and quickly disconnect from the subject.  

Images such as:

Old Woman in hospital bed, NYC 1958

Lady in the shower, Coney Island, N.Y. 1959

Man in hat, trunks, sock and shoes, Coney Island 1960

Two girls by a brick wall, NYC 1961

raise the question in my mind about whether these people gave their consent to be photographed, or if some were staged.

In a letter to Marvin Israel she confessed that when visiting the shrine of a disinterred saint , she,

 “…got a terrible impulse to photograph her and I tremulously did which wasn’t legal so I pretended to be praying and pregnant…” (Arbus et al, 2012: 146)

In a postcard she sent to Marvin Israel in 1960 she wrote,

“…This photographing is really the business of stealing… I feel indebted to everything for having taken it or being about to…” (Arbus et al, 2012: 147)

I took some notes during my tour of the exhibition of images I found noteworthy. This image Mother Cabrini, a disinterred saint in her glass and gold casket, N.Y.C. 1960 was not among them.  I found the story behind the image more interesting.  Knowing the photograph is a furtive snap changes its meaning; the exhibition does not explain much.  I don’t remember if there was an audio guide.  How many people were there like me wa/ondering around the grid?

I did not buy the catalogue, priced at £35, but noted that Revelations was priced at £75. I thought the price was quite high.   However, I thought the reproductions were of a better quality and saw that one of the editors was her daughter. I assumed Doon Arbus would be able to share more information about her mother than any other writer.  I bought a cheaper copy online.  

On reading Revelations I found out that, up until 1958, Arbus experimented with cropping.  Photographers and art editors at the time used this technique retrospectively to reveal an image within an image.  It could,

“…impose a sense of immediacy, or of a privileged, almost private view after the fact…”  (Arbus et al, 2012:52)

Boy above a crowd NYC 1957 illustrates this idea but I do not know whether Arbus cropped it, not having seen the contact sheets.  The title does not indicate to the audience what the audience depicted are looking at.  They are looking to the left, the boy Arbus wants us to focus on is looking directly at us.

In 1956 Arbus ended her photographic partnership with her husband.  She felt her role in their commercial business was as “a glorified stylist” (Arbus et al, 2012: 139).  She joined two photography courses taught by Lisette Model (1956 and 57).  In the 1940s, Model photographed ordinary people in the streets of New York City.  

In 1971 Arbus told students in a master class,

“…In the beginning… I used to make very grainy things.  I’d be fascinated by  what the grain did because it would make a tapestry of all these little           dots…Skin would be the same as water would be the same as sky and you      would be dealing mostly in dark and light not so much in flesh and blood… It   was my teacher…who finally made it clear to me that the more specific you            are, the more general it’ll be…”  

(Arbus et al, 2012: 141)

I do not remember seeing Coney Island 1960 (Windy Group) in the exhibition.  It is in Revelations, but I am unable to locate the image online.  It shows a group of people on a windy beach; a woman is bending over away from the camera and her stripy dress is blowing in the wind. It is extremely grainy; did Arbus intend the grain to suggest a sand storm?

Towards the end of her life Arbus told her students,

“…I remember a long time ago when I first began to photograph I thought,       There are an awful lot of people in the world and it’s going to be terribly hard to photograph all of them, so if I photograph some kind of generalized human being, everybody will recognize it…And there are certain evasions, certain        nicenesses that I think you have to get out of..”  (Arbus et al, 1992:10)

At the Hayward exhibition, I noticed that,

Kid in black face NYC, 1957 is exhibited near, Lady on a bus NYC, 1957.

Was the year-long (1955-6) Montgomery Bus Boycott in Arbus’s mind?  Around this time Arbus was trying to find photographic editorial work and took some photographs of litter for a magazine, for which she was unpaid.

 “…I followed flying newspapers…running like mad to keep up with dick tracy…” (Arbus et al, 2012: 142)

Windblown headline on a dark pavement, NYC 1956.  Most of the photographs in this exhibition are of people.  I did not understand the appeal of some of the photographs lacking them, such as those of “…psuedo places…” (Arbus et al, 2012: 163) for example, A castle in Disneyland, cal., 1962, or Rocks on heels, Disneyland, Cal., 1963, but I thought this particular print was inspiring.  

I noted a number of photographs taken inside and outside cinemas.  Several are of the screen, taken at some distance from it, from the audience’s viewpoint;

A Dominant Picture 1958

Man on screen being choked 1958

had a personal resonance.   There is also a close up, probably taken in a cinema, of a scene from the controversial film Baby Doll, 1956.

In Movie theater usher standing by the box office NYC, 1956 an usher stands by the box office in an oversized uniform.  It occurred to me, after seeing an online reproduction of this photograph away from the exhibition, that it is reminiscent of a Soviet style uniform.  Was Arbus intending to remind us of the 1956 Hungarian Uprising?

In 42nd Street Movie Theater Audience NYC 1958 Arbus’s camera is placed some distance away from the scene.  A projector beam cuts through the fug of cigarette smoke.  It is not easy to tell what people are doing; there is some blurring, perhaps there are people asleep and a couple kissing.  A print made by Neil Selkirk, her student and assistant, is valued at between $20,000 - 30,000.  I quite liked the photograph at the exhibition, but I do not think it is that extraordinary.

It seemed to me that Arbus’s intention was to make the ordinary extraordinary and the extraordinary ordinary.  In The Backwards Man in his hotel room, 1961 a man is standing in a standard hotel room. His head is directed to the left of the frame, his feet to the right.  He is wearing a full length clear plastic mac indoors.  Is this to draw attention to his body?  After the exhibition I learned he was a contortionist from Hubert’s Dime Museum and Flea Circus in Times Square called Joe Allen;

 “… Joe Allen is a metaphor for human destiny – walking blind into the future with an eye on the past…”  note in her appointment book (Arbus, 2012:154)

Sontag offered a suggestion as to why Arbus chose her subjects.

“…At the beginning of the sixties, the thriving Freak Show at Coney Island     was outlawed; the pressure is on to raze the Times Square turf of drag      queens and hustlers and cover it with skyscrapers.  And the inhabitants of           deviant underworlds are evicted from their restricted territories – banned as        unseemly, a public nuisance, obscene, of just unprofitable…”

(Sontag, 1973. 43-44)

There are many photographs of female drag artists in the show.  Two different interpretations of ‘woman’ can be seen in the fleshy beauty of Girl in her circus costume backstage, Palisades Park, N.J. 1960, and the haughty and fabulous Blonde female impersonator standing by a dressing table, Hempstead L.I 1959, a coded appropriation of ‘womanliness’.

In October 1959 Arbus started work on a project about aspects of New York life for Esquire magazine, photographing “…the posh to the sordid…” (typewritten letter to Robert Benton, art director of Esquire (Revelations, 2012: 333)

I made a note of the title, Woman in white fur with cigarette, Mulberry Street NYC 1958, at the time of visiting the exhibition, but did not really reflect on the photograph.  I felt pressurised by the crowd to move on.  The unnamed woman’s stance could be interpreted as expressing her annoyance at being photographed, self-confidence, or self-entitlement.  Is she scowling?  She fills the frame, and appears quite large.  The lights in the background, possibly Xmas street lights, appear to surround her head.  Are we meant to see a Valkyrie?  The location is Mulberry Street, NYC; the street name made me think of expensive handbags. Is the woman in the background, who I have only just noticed, smiling obsequiously or simply smiling?  

For me, Arbus’s titles often suggest a deadpan or sardonic humour, which I enjoy.  This title, Miss Maria Seymour dancing with Baron Theo Von Roth at the Grand Opera Ball, NYC 1959, is similar to captions of photographs in society magazines. I don’t know now why I thought this was funny; I did not make adequate notes at the exhibition because I thought I would be able to access the image online at home afterwards.  

For some of this work she obtained a Police pass (Revelations, 2012:144); Corpse with receding hairline and a toe tag, N.Y.C. 1959

Looking at photographs of Israel after the exhibition, (Revelations, 2012:145), could this photograph be an inside joke?  A notice on the wall at entrance of the Hayward states,

“…This exhibition contains images that some visitors may find upsetting and some that contain nudity.  If you require further information, please speak to an exhibition host…”

In postcards sent to Marvin Israel in January 1960 she wrote about a disturbing scene she had photographed,

“… I am not ghoulish am I? I absolutely hate to have a bad conscience, I think it is lewd…Is everyone ghoulish?  It wouldn’t anyway have been better to turn away, would it…?”  (Revelations, 2012: 145-6).

All layers of society are portrayed in the exhibition.  Among the photographs of society people are photographs of performers at the Hubert’s Dime Museum and Flea Circus in Times Square, such as Hezekiah Trambles, ‘The Jungle Creep’. The close up of ‘The Jungle Creep’ is a powerful image.  He played a ‘Wild Man of Borneo’ racist stereotype for a living.  Tramble’s face fills the frame; the photograph is blurred and grainy.  A light source catches highlights in his eyes, perhaps a button over his Adams apple, and a tooth.  How many teeth does he have?  Are their tears in his upwardly directed eyes?  His eyes appear unfocussed.  He is photographed from below; he looks monumental.

Arbus photographed various people who she described as ‘freaks’, ‘The Sensitives’ and ‘singular people’.  In 1971 she told her students,

“…Freaks was a thing I photographed a lot… There’s a quality of legend         about freaks…Most people go through life dreading they’ll have a traumatic  experience. Freaks were born with their trauma. They’ve already passed       their test in life.  They’re aristocrats…” (Arbus et al, 1992:3).

By making us look up at Trambles’ face, did Arbus intend us to see someone deranged?  Or a Man with human dignity?  

In a notebook she wrote,

 “..If we are all freaks the task is to become as much as possible the freak we are...” (Revelations, 2012: 54) and in a postcard to Marvin Israel in 1960 she wrote,

 “..Freaks are a fairy tale for grownups.  A metaphor which bleeds…”  (Revelations, 2012: 54)

 In 1961 Arbus completed a story, “The Full Circle” which included portraits of six people including Stormé de Larverie from the Jewel Box Revue’s touring drag artist show, ‘Twenty-Five Men and a Girl’, Miss Stormé de Larverie, the Lady who appears to be a Gentleman NYC 1961.

Neither Esquire nor Harper’s Bazaar published the story with de Larverie. Esquire wanted to leave out Stormé “…due to lack of space.  Infinity, the publication of the American Society of Magazine Photographers published the story in 1962 which included de Larverie.  Was the de Larverie photograph initially excluded because it depicted a lesbian, or because editors regarded the print as being unremarkable?  The Hayward gallery offers no information about de Larverie’s historical importance.

I wasn’t sure if the exhibition was presenting Arbus as a feminist;

Barbershop interior through a glass door, NYC 1957

Blurry woman gazing up smiling, NYC 1957-8

Mood meter machine, NYC 1957  

In the barbershop interior we can see men looking at a woman taking photographs in the street at night.  Their various expressions include puzzlement, amusement and incredulity.  The presence of the woman photographer is only suggested by her reflection in the glass. I am that woman now looking from the outside in.  Am I obliged to become involved with what I photograph?

Of the Box of Ten photographs, one of my favourites is,  

Retired man and his wife at home in a nudist camp one morning NJ 1963

I see this as a cosy and affectionate. Soft sunlight filters through the net curtains; it is a domestic scene with a twist.

Arbus described her experience of taking photographs in nudist camps in 1971, where she was required to take photographs naked,

“…You may think you’re not (a nudist) but you are…” (Arbus et al, 1992: 4-5)

As a suburban, semi-educated, left-leaning liberal standing in a contemporary Western art gallery, the wall notice warning about nudity surprised me a bit; I wasn’t concerned by the nudity displayed within this context.

Neil Selkirk, who printed the Box of Ten, believed Arbus’s prints look different from other photographers’.  She did no dodging or burning,

“…If she ever had the urge or the knowledge to make the print beautiful in a conventional sense, she resisted it. The unique quality of Diane’s prints seems a direct response to what is required if one is extremely curious and utterly dispassionate...” (Revelations, 2012: 275)

He thought she had intended to make the final image look like snapshots or newspaper photographs.   To me, the 35 mm photographs in the exhibition generally look like snapshots; the Box of Ten artworks look like beautiful parodies of photographs specific to glossy magazine features.  Arbus’ photographs could be seen as diverting, rather like a day out at an art gallery  

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Arbus, D (edited by Arbus, Doon, Israel, M) (1992) Diane Arbus, London, Bloomsbury Publishing Ltd.

 Arbus, Diane, Arbus Doon, Phillips; S, Sussmann E, Selkirk N,  J L Rosenheim (2012) Revelations: Diane Arbus, Munich, Schirmer/Mosel

Guggenheim, K (2019) Diane Arbus: An interview with Jeff L. Rosenheim and Karan Rinaldo.  At: https://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/blog/diane-arbus-interview-jeff-rosenheim-karan-rinaldo-hayward-gallery  (Accessed on 24 March 2019)

Hayward Gallery (2019) Hayward Gallery Exhibition Guide, London, Hayward Gallery

Metropolitan Museum of Art (2019) diane arbus in the beginning [online] At https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2016/diane-arbus (Accessed on 30 March 2019)

Smithsonian American Art Museum (s.d)  A box of ten photographs [online press release] At: https://s3.amazonaws.com/assets.saam.media/files/documents/2018-04/wall%20text.pdf  (Accessed on 30 March 2019).  

Sontag S (1973) ‘America seen through photographs, darkly’ in On Photography (1979) London, Penguin Books Ltd