The era of Diane Arbus’s controversial photography is a thing of the past. Her images of marginalized individuals, taken without their consent, have sparked debate and discomfort for years. However, in today’s world filled with real-life struggles and hardships, Arbus’s approach no longer resonates with audiences. We are no longer seeking to be shocked or saddened by the harsh realities of life. Instead, we are looking for moments of kindness and humanity, which are often lacking in Arbus’s work.
A major retrospective of Arbus’s work is currently on display at the Park Avenue Armory in Manhattan. Curated by Matthieu Humery, the exhibition features 455 prints spanning the artist’s career. However, the exhibition lacks a cohesive narrative or thematic structure, leaving viewers to navigate a maze of images without context. This approach has raised questions about the curator’s intentions and the exhibition’s overall impact.
One of the most notable aspects of the exhibition is a large mirror wall that divides the space, creating a disorienting effect for visitors. Additionally, the prohibition of photography for “copyright reasons” has limited the public’s ability to engage with and discuss the specific images on display. This level of control over how the exhibition is portrayed in the media raises concerns about transparency and critical dialogue.
Despite these challenges, one undeniable truth emerges from Arbus’s work: a clear class divide among her subjects. Coming from a wealthy family, Arbus was naturally drawn to New York’s high society, capturing the affluent with sophistication and elegance. In contrast, her images of the less fortunate appear trapped and unhappy, lacking the same level of humanity and connection found in her images of the rich.
Critics have long debated Arbus’s approach to photographing marginalized individuals, with some arguing that her work exoticizes and distances the subjects. Susan Sontag, in a scathing essay from 1973, criticized Arbus for her voyeuristic and privileged gaze, highlighting the ethical implications of her practice. Despite these criticisms, Arbus’s work has been celebrated and commodified, with some of her prints fetching millions at auction.
As the largest retrospective of Arbus’s work to date, the exhibition at the Park Avenue Armory missed an opportunity to continue the ethical debate surrounding the artist. By prioritizing spectacle over critical dialogue, the organizers failed to do justice to both the subjects in the photographs and Arbus herself. Moving forward, it is essential to approach Arbus’s work with a critical eye and engage in meaningful discussions about the impact of her images on society.
