More thoughts on Maier

I finally got a chance to see Finding Vivian Maier recently. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. Going in I wasn't sure what to expect. I have mixed feelings about Vivian Maier and the way her legacy and has been handled. And this was a debut film by an untested film-maker which had received a range of reviews. Was it just a big commercial? Would it reveal secrets? I couldn't tell. I didn't even know if I wanted to see it. 

But I'm glad I did, because it was a very entertaining film. John Maloof and Charlie Siskel have made a strong human interest story which comes alive on screen. I was impressed. It even turned out to be a good date movie. Tab liked it. I liked it. Note that mutual agreement is not always the case in such matters.

The title is no accident. To the extent a documentary can have narrative arc, it's the tale of Finding. Maloof has rounded up a wide range of people who knew her in person —maybe all of them?— and through their comments a detailed character study emerges. It's largely the Vivian Maier we'd known before —Mysterious, dowdy, street smart, eccentric, intensely private, sometimes good with kids, sometimes definitely not— but fleshed out more fully. We see the neighborhoods she lived in, she small French village she visited, her Chicago street haunts. Given her private nature the viewers of this film may know her as well as anyone ever has. Whether she would want millions of strangers to know her is another story. I think not. But it's too late now. She's been thoroughly found.

At the center of it all, wrapped up inextricably with her story, is John Maloof. If Maier is famous for her self portraits, Maloof has taken a page out of her book for this film. It's as much about him as her. Where would she be without him? He is the yang to Maier's yin. Whereas she was private to the point of pathology, Maloof is a public relations whiz. He is a natural on camera, a star in the making. He's got, what do they call it? —screen presence. In some ways the two of them are an unlikely pairing. But they say opposites attract, and Maloof's passion for Maier drives the film. In casual conversation he refers to her familiarly as "Vivian"— as if they were old friends. The kids she nannied remember her name differently —"That's Miss Maier to you," and don't forget it.  

If you still believe in the American Dream, Maloof is Exhibit A. He's found a niche, he's worked his ass off to develop it, and he now stands to reap the benefits. He's made it to Hollywood! This is what makes Maier's lifestyle so confounding to Maloof. Why didn't she pursue the American Dream? She had amazing talent —Hollywood level talent. Or at least New York level. So why did she remain a nanny rather than try for a career in photography? For someone with Maloof's ambition this is the central riddle  —it's the root of the dream, dammit— and it becomes the crux of the film. If the job of nanny is uncreative and of low social rank —the film's dubious premise— wouldn't she be happier in her true calling?

That question will probably never be answered, but let's take a stab. For one thing, it's not as if one can just push the Fine Artist button and launch a photography career. For someone in Maier's social position during that era, and especially considering the transgressive material she was producing, it would've demanded a convoluted path. It would've required a motivated patron who could develop art-world connections and a collector base. Someone like Maloof, in other words. But he wouldn't come around until many years later, and Maier was not the sort of personality to achieve this on her own. So that was a barrier.

But that's presuming she would rather be a full-time photographer than a nanny. The fact is her lifestyle allowed her to be both. It's not as if she was washing dishes in a windowless room, then pursuing photography on the side. Maier practiced photography on the job every day. She used her kids as foils and took them on photo adventures. Far from being unfulfilling, nannying was perfect. Unlike most jobs she could actually get some meaningful work done while on the clock.

Nannying may have been ideal but it was, alas, a job, and had many non-photographic responsibilities. I think that when it all boils down, the main reason she was a nanny is the same reason most artists have day jobs: she had to make a fucking living. Simple. Ask any barista what they really care about and you'll get the same story. Because the best photography is generally not made by full-time professionals. It's made by clerks, copy writers, bakers, landscapers, taxi drivers, auto mechanics...and, yes, nannies. Buried talent is not an anomaly in America. It's the norm. 

Seen in that light, the mystery of Vivian Maier becomes less confounding. But there's still the question of her photography. I think most photographers —at least outside of MoMA— have a sense of Maier's magic, but it's difficult to convey, and almost impossible to imagine what could develop such astonishing talent. What was her training? What photographers did she study? Who did she talk to, see, or like? What stages did she pass through? What's the story? 

Unfortunately the film offers very little background. We see some reproductions, some gallery shots, and there are short interviews with Joel Meyerowitz and Mary Ellen Mark saying why they think Maier is great. If you're a nonphotographer you'll just have to take their word for it.  

"But why are they so great?" Tab asked me afterwards. I wasn't sure what to tell her. They're great because Joel Meyerowitz said so? Because they're raw and real and incredibly tender? Or because they were taken by an unknown nanny?

"We'll have to wait for the sequel," I said.