I remember seeing this book at my aunt and uncle's house when I was quite young (maybe 5 or 6). Flipping its pages as an adult is quite an experience, but as a child I was equal parts totally enthralled, disturbed, confused and yet completely smitten. I remember becoming quite familiar with the book's many characters, and always looked at this book when I visited their house.

When I started experimenting in photography in my mid-teens, I became re-aquainted with it from visiting bookstores and libraries, and through art history courses.

Her images I think speak more about who she is than who her subjects are, but in a way that is brutally revealing. On the surface, these photographs represent a cross-section of fringe society, with all of its inherant complexity and grit. Cross dressers, midgets, nudists, drug addicts, "dancers" and the like. But they become quite revealing about her psyche during the period she was creating this amazing body of work.
She approaches each subject not at a distance, but with the sensitivity and affection of someone who really cares and is invested in these relationships. She lived with a few of these people, hung out with many others...it was the kind of company she prefered, even after being raised in a very wealthy Jewish family who owned a department store.
The images are confrontational, sensational, unnerving, and a little disturbing. And some have really become icons of modern photography (the boy holding the grenade, the triplets on their bed, and many more).

But what really affected me the most was the exerps collected posthumously in the beginning of the book, in which Arbus describes her method and some of the mantras of her craft. There are so many powerful statements in this preface, all of which further support the understanding of her importance in the medium. Two of her most powerful statements:

"You don't put into a photograph what's going to come out. Or vice versa, what comes out is not what you put in. I have never taken a picture I've intended. They're always better or worse."

"I really believe there are things which nobody would see unless I photographed them."

These statements really speak volumes about the responsibilty of an artist, and how everybody has a different slant about what's in front of them. Her words occasionally provide fuel for me to take initiative in my own work and take more risks and less excuses.

Definately of of the finest groups of photographs in modern art history. Hugely influential and succesful, and totally unequalled in its genre (except maybe by Nan Goldin).


"Cast A Cold Eye On Life, On Death. Horseman, Pass By!" Epitaph of W.B. Yeats   June 14, 2006
 13 out of 13 found this review helpful

It is not overstating the case to say that creating these photographs cost Diane Arbus her life, her suicide followed soon after they were assembled. When you study them, (and you study them, you don't look at them), you quickly understand why. Arbus was a brittle and emotionally volatile woman long before taking these haunting images, the product of a privileged upbringing who cut her teeth in the world of fashion photography, making perfect-looking people look even more perfect. Having refined her technical skills she ventured into the opposite side of that world, seeking out the people society hid and desperately tried to forget.

Arbus said famously that most of us live in fear of a traumatic disaster while her subjects had already endured theirs and were, in a sense, aristocrats as a consequence - free from the fear of being unwanted - secure in the knowledge that they most certainly were unwanted. Arbus was so obsessed with presenting unadulterated reality that she never cropped her photos, indeed, the "live area" of the prints goes beyond the photo and includes some of the film's border - to prove the picture wasn't cropped. She dove into the dark side like an obsessive child at a circus freak show, nothing was disturbing enough to satisfy her and even the commonplace became bizarre by the time she was done with it.

Arbus was passionate about photographing the mentally retarded, but giants, transsexuals, twins, triplets, skinheads, nudists and other bits of social flotsam and jetsam lured her as well. Whether it was a boy holding hand grenades or a teenage couple looking like creepy miniaturized adults, Diane Arbus gravitated for the slice of humanity certain to engender revulsion. Her genius lay in the ability to bring nothing to the proceedings, she approached her subjects on their own terms. Because she did this, the subjects did not "rise" to meet the camera, they remained fixed in their personal nightmares. This made for profound, well-crafted photographs. Arbus didn't see beauty or pathos in her subjects, simply their reality. She invited us to behold what we dread and honor the dignity of her subjects. We are able to do that because we are more or less healthy, and because we can close the book when it becomes too painful; she could not.

Every Arbus photograph is a self-portrait; every lost, hideous freak was Diane Arbus looking in the mirror. For the most part it seems that the people in her pictures survived her completely unsentimental scrutiny, she did not. What's more unsettling is that the popularity of these pictures gave rise to a wave of young copycat photographers who thought it was "cool" to photograph the disadvantaged, disabled, and mentally ill. The copycats never understood that for it to be art you have to care, you have to get involved. Arbus got too involved.



A brilliant display of the fringe!   September 30, 1999
 8 out of 8 found this review helpful

Diane Arbus is my favorite photographer and this book displays why. Her photographs show life as it is, with diversity around every corner. The images are earie as the subjects seem to be standing right in front of you. That is credited to her technique of using a flash even in the daylight. I reccomend the 25th anniversary edition because of the better quality in the prints. Every photographer or art enthusiast needs this book in their collection!