Unapologetic Portraits
“Unapologetic Portraits and the Struggle of Being Perceived” is a short essay that takes a closer look at the ethics of Diane Arbus’s photographic approach.
The misfits, the “freaks”, the mental and physical outliers—Diane Arbus had a keen eye for photographing the individuals that tempt second glances. Author Liz Jobey frames her discussion of Arbus around her 1966 photo of a “Young Brooklyn Family on a Sunday Outing”. Jobey considers this image the quintessential “unhappy family snapshot”. The kin’s unique place in history—along with the appearance, expression, and disposition of each individual–becomes likened to a metaphor of a disappointed, vulnerable American family. Jobey’s essay ultimately demonstrates a phenomenon of portraiture: a subject can consent to being photographed but cannot control how he or she is perceived by viewers. This idea consequently raises ethical debates that have pinned Diane Arbus’s work on either side of praise or criticism.
A Young Brooklyn Family Going for a Sunday Outing, N.Y.C. © The Estate of Diane Arbus LLC
Ultimately, the camera captures us “as we are, rather than as we want to be”; in other words, no matter how strongly one wishes to be perceived in a certain light, the camera is indifferent to our desired presentations. The Brooklyn family–along with many of Arbus’s subjects, such as circus performers, transgender folks, dwarves, the young, the old–granted consent to be photographed, placing their vulnerability into her hands. Perhaps we intuitively assume there is some unspoken moral agreement in portraiture that says, “if I allow my picture to be taken, I trust you to present me in the best light.” If so, Arbus does not assume this mission in her work. In fact, one may argue that she is motivated to betray this notion. Her intent, rather, is to embrace what is there, to resist sugarcoating a subject’s authentic disposition. The camera “records faithfully”–it has no obligation to show us beauty nor charm; consequently, Arbus’s notorious style could come off as disturbing or perverse.
“I always thought of photography as a naughty thing to do–that was one of my favorite things about it, and when I first did it, I felt very perverse,” wrote Arbus, as quoted in Susan Sontag’s Plato’s Cave. To be photographed is to be inevitably transformed into a spectacle. The act itself is not inherently good or evil; however, Arbus’s approach has been both criticized and praised. On one hand, critics argue that Arbus’s work was a cruel exploitation, capitalizing on individuals’ vulnerabilities. Such opponents contend it a violation to objectify others, or, in other words, to capture the vulnerable essence of a person and release it to the world—especially at the level of recognition Arbus’s work began to achieve. Yet, this defined the harsh, unapologetic style of her portraiture. Sontag claimed that such an approach was less of a moral accomplishment, and more of an aggressive lack of compassion towards the public.
Contrarily, others emphasize the positive prospects of illuminating subjects that may otherwise be left in the darkness. The “weirdness” of her subjects; their unconventional eccentricities; their divergence from cultural norms, was photographically attractive to Arbus. Rather than contributing additional images to the sea of highly-sought-after, conventionally attractive models and superstars, perhaps instead, Arbus strived to foster appreciation and acknowledgement of society’s misfits. The beautiful and the glorious are already aware of their worthiness of documentation—Arbus created a space in the limelight for the altogether less revered, elevating social consciousness as a result.
Perhaps it is significant to consider Arbus’s investment in her subjects before rendering her problematic versus praiseworthy. A predatory violation, versus a principled validation? It may seem more permissible to allow for this kind of work when we consider what the photographer may have had to gain. For instance, photographer Mary Ellen Mark was similarly known for capturing society’s outliers; yet, many endow her work as graceful and compassionate, considering her selfless investment in the lives of her subjects. For her project “Ward 81”, meant to illuminate the lives of women suffering from mental illness, Mark resided in the Oregon State Hospital for six weeks straight to accrue the comfort and confidence of her subjects (Grimes). Contrarily, there is relatively less evidence that Arbus sought the same depth of investment in her subjects. Most assume that her portraits were one-time encounters, but she did occasionally return to photograph her subjects in some instances, such as the case of the Brooklyn family, as evidenced by the second round of images in their own home.
Capturing the image of another is an intimate, vulnerable exchange. Liz Jobey’s exploration of Diane Arbus’s work raises questions surrounding the responsibility of the photographer to respect and honor the ownership of one’s identity. By the nature of photography, the subject lacks ultimate control of how he or she will be presented and perceived by viewers–Arbus’s notoriously unapologetic and “as-is” portrait style certainly takes this phenomenon to the next level. Ultimately, her collections of America’s most unique will continue to fascinate–and disturb–audiences for years to come.
Sourced Referenced
Jobey, Liz (2005) ‘Diane Arbus: A young Brooklyn family going for a Sunday Outing, N.Y.C. 1966’. in Singular Images: Essays on Remarkable Photographs. ed. by Howarth, S. London: Tate Publishing
Sontag, Susan. On Photography. Penguin, 2008.
