Early in her photography career, Diane Arbus was perplexed about how to possibly capture the grand mélange of humanity in her work. According to Arbus’s writings (published posthumously by Aperture), her mentor, street photographer Lisette Model, taught her that “the more specific you are” in a photograph, “the more general it’ll be.” Arbus questioned whether she should strive to capture a “generalized human being” in order for her work to be relatable, but Model taught her otherwise—that photographs will resonate with more people if you shed generalities; if you dig deep into the heart of who is in front of your camera. “In a way, this scrutiny has to do with not evading facts, not evading what it really looks like,” Arbus wrote.
The photographer’s unflinching gaze has been both celebrated and criticized since she rose to prominence in the 1960s, and after her death in 1971. Much of that attention is due to the subjects she was most drawn to: sideshow performers, nudists, dwarfs, transgender sex workers—people living on the fringes of society, but who also possessed a strong sense of identity. It’s well-known that Arbus would visit the homes of many of her subjects, who would invite her into their lives; she was able to connect with the people she met in a truly unique way.
Her gaze is most potent in her last body of work, “Untitled” (1969–71), both her most comprehensive and most incomplete series, made at residences for people with developmental disabilities. Much of the work was kept private until it was published in a 1995 monograph put together by her daughter, Doon; 66 images from the series—some never exhibited before—are on view now at David Zwirner in New York.
Arbus was invigorated by the residents, writing to her husband, Allan, in 1969: “It’s the first time I’ve encountered a subject where the multiplicity is the thing.…I am not just looking for the best picture of them. I want to do lots.” She would return to the residences for picnics, dances, and Halloween; in many of the images, her subjects are masked. But the way that people with developmental disabilities were seen by society in the 1960s differs markedly from today. Genetic disorders such as Down syndrome were treated as if they were mental illnesses, and, during the post-war economic boom, there was a sharp increase in the number of mentally ill and disabled children who were institutionalized because they were seen as a burden.