Rediscovering Photography Through Film: Vivian Maier (Part 1)

I love street photography.  It's real.  It's raw.  Sometimes it's poignant, whimsical, experimental. Rachel and I spent the entirety of our three weeks in Europe taking photos of whatever we came upon.  We got some amazing images, and since we mostly stuck with our 50mm lenses, we had to get pretty close to people.  We varied our techniques, and became skilled at what we called "drive-bys" (shooting from the hip as we walked by scenes like seated trattoria patrons or street shows).  This type of photography requires a unique combination of luck and skill, as well as quick reaction to capture what's going on around you.  It also requires a good bit of gumption when you're photographing random people on the street and then disappearing into the crowd.  So when our good friend Shelley, of Shelley Castle Photography, invited us to see the new documentary film on Vivian Maier, Rachel and I jumped at the chance. 

For those of you who may not know her story, Vivian Maier was a nanny for many families over the course of her life.  She was a no-frills woman with an interesting fashion taste and an "acquired" French accent, who also happened to be one of the earliest and greatest street photographers the world has ever known.  What Rachel and I did in Europe for three weeks, Vivian did her whole life.  She carried a camera with her literally everywhere (usually a big medium format Rolleiflex, which could be shot from low and inconspicuous angles because the viewfinder was on top) and shot literally everything you could imagine, often with children in tow.  She was a packrat, and had hundreds of thousands of printed photographs and undeveloped rolls of film that were all sold in her estate sale a few years ago, recovered by a young man who gave her the exposure in death that she never got (nor probably wanted) in life. 

Vivian's story is captivating and mysterious on so many levels.  She hated men and was strict with children, possibly a product of some unknown abuse.  She once confided in a friend that she was a nanny because it allowed her to photograph the way she wanted to.  She went to the worst parts of whatever town she happened to be in at the moment to walk the streets and photograph strangers.  She often took a tape recorder with her and asked political questions of other women standing in line at the market.  She took eight months for herself and traveled the world…alone…as a woman…in the early '60s…talk about independent and driven!  Having the intestinal fortitude to be experimental and different is something many only dream of.  She did it every day without hesitation. 

I think, more than anything, it was this aspect of her personality that drew me to her.  She found a love, a true passion, and pursued it in any way she could.  She experimented.  She got up-close and personal with her subjects.  And most of all, she was fearless with her photographs and the way she lived.  She rearranged her life around photography more than once.  That's love, and that's beautiful to me. 

I've rearranged my life a few times for what's important to me, and every day I make choices to support that arrangement because of the things I love and hold most dear.  I'm sure you have, as well.  And it's hard sometimes.  But I truly feel that Vivian's story reminds us that at the end of the day, those things are what help to make life worth living, and they are gifts to share.