Diane Arbus: A Biography

Diane Arbus, this biography tells us, threw herself into a world of nudist camps, orgies, one-night stands, and extremely casual sex, completely divorced from psychological or emotional will or fulfillment. Arbus said she found it boring. Reading this book was something like that for me.Reading about a person who had a chemical imbalance is kind of pointless, I'm beginning to think. I can never understand such bizarre minds. As a teenager, Diane frequently stripped and masturbated in front of a window while she knew she was being peeped -- or at least she said so, but even if it isn't true, saying so is enough. She demanded everything of herself and her talent but she wouldn't do a book or an exhibition presumably because it would be the end in some way, and she turned down a very lucrative film offer because she felt she wasn't up to the job. She was depressed over her last series of photographs of mentally retarded adults because she couldn't control the subjects or the images. Well, why didn't she move on to other subjects? She had had a bad reaction to one type of anti-depressants in combination with the Pill, so she wouldn't try any other anti-depressants with or without the Pill. Then she killed herself.As for her art, I'm not sure I understand her claim that she was not being exploitative or sensationalistic in her photos of circus freaks, transsexuals, and nudists. "It's about love," Diane said about a series she was doing for Time-Life. Did that series include "normal" people such as the Westchester family in their back yard, the famous twins, the Puerto Rican woman with a birthmark, the woman with pearl earrings and a hat, the Jewish couple dancing, the best friends, the lady bartender, etc? I wish author Bosworth had spent a chapter on that "love" rather than a single sentence. An exploration of Arbus's feelings about the human condition rather than her feelings about art itself might have yielded much more insight, including an explanation of why she killed herself. Despair over human fragility and vulnerability? Over some cosmic irony that hangs over all of us?Maybe Arbus is simply too elusive for any biographer. Bosworth drops a lot of names and gets Arbus's contemporaries and friends to talk, but a lot of them are self-conscious blowhards whose descriptions were confusing and therefore forgettable. I have the feeling that if Bosworth had managed to get one or two friends with tons of insight and an ability to speak plainly -- maybe Dick Avedon and Allan Arbus, perhaps Amy Arbus as well -- this would have been a more rewarding read. Or perhaps Bosworth should have just written from the perspective that Arbus was weird and impenetrable and taken us into her life with the plain caveat that we can only watch, not understand.Anyway, I didn't much like it. Until someone writes a book about that sentence, "It's about love," Arbus is for me yet another artist who's sufficiently known by a wiki article and collections of her work. (Same thing happened to me with Lee Krasner and Frida Kahlo, biographies I also read and reviewed here).Onto Georgia O'Keeffe, Artemisia Gentilleschi, and Grandma Moses!

I gave up on this bio about half way through in favor of another. The author seemed to include every fact she uncovered in her research, and while interesting, many of her factual digressions had very little to do with Diane Arbus and/or the work for which she is known. The text was simply unsatisfying for this reader whose focus was on Arbus and her art.

I thought this was a well written, objective biography of an enigmatic, difficult person. I knew very little about Diane Arbus, and had only seen a few of her most (in)famous photographs. So I had no preconceived idea of her art or personality. This book gives a terrific insight into the New York City creative scene during the 1950's and 1960's. it starts with her wealthy Jewish childhood, her marriage to Alan Arbus, and ends with her suicide. (As an aside, only Hollywood could have cast tall, red-haired Nicole Kidman to play short dark Arbus in the movie about her, "Fur.")Personally I found Arbus to be unlikeable and, in many ways, unpleasant. I think Bosworth respected her subject as an artist. I liked the fact that the focus is on Arbus' life and work, rather than the more technical aspects of photography. Is this an accurate portrayal of this artist? I don't know since I don't have any knowledge of Arbus other than this book. It is possible Arbus or photography buffs could find fault.Is it a good book? Yes, it's well written, well researched and a terrific, if tragic, storyMy recommendation: If you want to read a well written, authoritative book about Diane Arbus, or just want to read an interesting biography , you'll enjoy this book.

Diane Arbus was the child of immigrant parents, and grew up exploring her potential set against the backdrop of the 50's, 60's and 70's. Her husband, actor Allan Arbus was also an artist looking for his potential. Hers in photography, his in acting.If there is a down side to the book, it is that it is pretty well factual, with very good and close sources, but the book starts to fade when the author explores Diane's later years. Was this woman, born into a family where depression had been discovered in her mother really depressed because of a failed marriage? The author opines to the affirmative. Or was it something more? The book only gives us a glimpse of Allan's troubled reaction to her depression.I believe a more indepth study into the soul of this woman would have shown dramatically the tragedy of her death. Set in the time period, our society was not cognizant or nor able to recognize signals in mental depression. There are many examples in the book of how Diane was attempting to overcome the demons.All in all, I found the book interesting and well written.

I love Diane Arbus and her meaning in her work, she obviously passed away in the 70's due to her suicide ( I'm not that far in the book but I'm wondering maybe the reasons why and what she was depressed of) It's others who known Diane, who are explaining her life of what they known of her and their accounters with her, she's truthfully one of the most interesting/unigue person I've ever been interested in someone's life of. I recommend reading it. :)

This book is great and filled with a lot of good and interesting information, not only for fans of Arbus but for fans of photography in general and New York culture in the 50s and 60s. The book at times can be a little daunting and dense but if you power through it you'll find a great read about one of the most important photographers of our time.

Lacking co operation from family Patricia Bosworth still achieved in giving an interesting portrait of both Arbus and possibly the life experiences that led her to develop the original style that outraged the society of the 60ies and 70ies. Detachment may be necessary in writing a biography but I felt a lack of compassion in the telling of the tale of a troubled but courageous lady who was ahead of her time and unfortunately paid for it.

Certainly my favourite female photographer and second in list overall, Rodchenko being my first choice due to time, place he took his photographs and for the fact he deviated from the photography norm. Arbus photographs what she sees rather than tart it up to an aesthetic ideal proposed by timid photographers and politically correct (but very wrong) academics. I have two Arbus books, often referring to them because her photographs are so compelling. She is an artist not that you might suss this out if reading Susan Sontag; who apparently doesn't appear to like her at all judging by the amount of black bile spat in her direction. Sontag is an academic (and yes I did the Art school and later BA degree) who is far as I am aware never took a photograph in her life yet feels she is capable of telling others how they should. I have read Sontag's books and if they were half as objective as Diane Arbus's photographs then other mights have treated the latter more respectfully. It is true Arbus focuses her attention on strange people outside societies comfort. She also photographed the mentally retarded dressed up and acting like fairies that some distasteful institutions probably thought quaint? And true they do look disabled. PersonalyI feel she did them a great service because people would rather the mentally retarded were kept well out of sight. Possibly not to disturb the great American dream notion of a perfect society which never actually existed. It happened in other countries as well of course and I do not exclude Britain out of that equation. Photography in the West (and I am sure other regions) is conditioned by perceived requirements of what a photograph should be. Personally I was taught the camera never lies (it can't it's a bloody machine) but sometime I photographer might and a third party viewing it, be it a member of the public, photographic student or an academic on the make (beats the office) can make of a photograph can only be a subjective 'judgement.' Take war in Iraq for example if your not persuaded. Colleges tell us to read Sontag and believe everything she tell's us;I have had arguments with lecturers upon this issue and some actually took my side. One story tells us it all started when Jewish Arbus on assignment photographed a Jewish Sontag (I only mention Jewishness as a base they both share) with her son who looked slightly rebellious.It didn't fit the good image Sontag wished to portray perhaps and it appears to all have started at this point? But who knows for sure. The type of photographer Sontag appears to like are those which glamourise and make out all is hunkidori with the world which ids actually always anything but. If it had been up to her perhaps we would never have seen the tragedy of those pictures of starving Biafrans because they weren't smiling? I might be exaggerating here? The thing is no one should have the right to tell an artist anything whatsoever as they can work it out for themselves without any idiotic help.Well thank god (or some other mythical entity) for Arbus and Rodchenko who both did as they pleased upset a lot of people who don't really matter. Both are heroes of mine and hopefully may her work be resurrected to its true stature from the hole it fell into when Sontag and the bandwagon which followed when all the academin nonentities clambered aboard. Possibly this was why she committed suicide - I don't know? I haven't concluded this book as yet but so far so good. It appears to be on the right channel and if so I will be well pleased.

This is an essential read for any aspiring artist in any medium.The pace starts slowly, the background and details ornate and perhaps overladen; one is conscious of the biographer acknowledging the generosity of the individuals who lavished a cornucopia of background on Arbus's early life.My advice would be to start about 150 pages in, at at "The Dark World", and learn about Arbus's extraordinary working methods and exemplary commitment; these chapters are the most 'useful' in the book. Then read backwards and find out what made her into the genius that she was. Sadly, we realise that we are never going to photograph like Arbus, just as we are never going to compose like Mozart: She brought a unique cocktail of hypersensitivity, disarming flirtatiousness, a preternatural eye for what only a still camera can reveal, and super-intense personal drive to connect emotionally, artistically, and physically with her subjects.Still, we read about so many issues that any artist faces: working for and without money; working with and against the subject; the question of whether one is exploiting the subject; working without recognition; working through constant self-doubt; working in crippling emotional isolation that comes from having an eye that sees what no-one else can.Ms Bosworth writes that she didn't receive the cooperation of Diane Arbus's daughters on the project on the basis that the work should 'speak for itself'. It certainly does, but it speaks louder and clearer with Ms Bosworth's help. The new afterward, written in 2004, is a perfect coda for an inspirational and lush biography.

Several members of our photographic club bought this book to discuss. I and others found it unreadable due to the heavy typeface and its font size which, compared to other paperbacks, was about 10pt. Further, the reproduction of the photographs was appalling in that they were very low contrast and definition; an insult to the work of a fine photographer. Some members of our group soldiered on and read the book commenting the writing was good.I would not recommend this publication of Diane Arbus' story.

I bought this book as a birthday present for my wife, so I haven't read it. I have however read the preface and it's excellently written. I cannot read more of the book because my wife keeps it with her constantly, which I guess is a recommendation in itself.

Meh. Could have done with more images tbh, of this amazing photographer. Fine for Arbus' fans who will no doubt purchase anything written about her and her work, still so so.