As he looked over the negatives back in his apartment, Maloof was stuck by what he considered to be astonishing craftsmanship of the photographer. The composition, the framing, the lighting, the facial expressions and emotions portrayed, all appeared to be extraordinary. The subjects covered a wide spectrum: the glamorous, the destitute, the lonely, the big shots, the posers, the unaware. There was also a wide variety of backgrounds: dark alleys, shadowy bridges, crowded sidewalks, dimly lit doorways, stockyards, skid row. Who was this Vivian Maier? Maloof had never heard of her before. Was he looking at the work of a world class photographer? Maloof thought he might be, but didn't trust his own impressions -- after all, he was a historian, not an artist of any kind -- so he posted several images on the internet without revealing the identity of the photographer, and then invited comments. The responders confirmed what Maloof suspected. These were, indeed, exceptional pictures.
Maloof's next step was to quickly buy up the boxes of negatives which had been purchased by others from the auctionereer. The space required to organize and categorize the hundreds of thousands of negatives was immense. The history book would have to wait; he was on the verge of discovering something much bigger and more important.
Maloof also set out to learn more about the mysterious photographer. How could someone with this gift be so anonymous? He interviewed over a dozen people on camera, including women who had once hired Maier to nanny their children, and several of the now-adult children themselves. A common theme materializes. Maier was enigmatic, and in many ways weird. She kept to herself in her off-duty hours, and made sure to keep her bedroom door locked at all times, regardless of whether she was inside or not. She was a newspaper hoarder, and even went so far as to rig her stacks when she left her employer's house so that, when she returned, she could tell if anyone had been looking at her collection.
She told someone who had asked about her occupation that she was "kind of a spy." She was able to get closer than most photographers into her subjects' "space" because the old-style box camera she used, a Rollieflex, enabled her to shoot pictures without having to bring the viewfinder up to her eyes. Instead, she held the camera belt-high and looked down while she sprang the shutter. Thus, her subjects were often unaware she was photographing or filming them.
Even those closest to Maier never knew she had such a talent. The big question which Maloof is unable to find the answer for is this: Why did Vivian keep secret her magnificent gift? Most artists, whether painters, writers, singers or photographers, want to display their talents to the widest possible audience. Maier was exactly the opposite.
Maier's extraordinary talent has at last been exposed by Maloof. He successfully staged exhibitions of Vivian's work in some of the most prestigious art galleries in big cities across the globe, drawing huge crowds to all of those venues. The consensus is that Vivian would have been a legend in her own time had she chosen to unveil her covert hobby. Instead, having died in 2009, she is honored posthumously. Regarding the worldwide exhibitions of her art, as one of her former employers told Maloof, Vivian would not have wanted that.
Ordinarily I would not be interested in watching a documentary about a person I know absolutely nothing about. But since I dragged Momma Cuandito to attend Draft Day with me (reviewed here on April 17, 2014, A-), I thought it was only fair that I go with her to one of her selections. As indicated above by my A- rating, I'm glad I did. Good call, Momma Cuan!
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