When directors Jeff Maloof and Charlie Siskel ask interviewees to describe Vivian Maier, the answers are “bold”, “paradoxical”, “eccentric” – and “she would never have let this happen.” It’s clear that during her life, the enigmatic Maier remained a mystery even to those closest to her. Since her death, she may have become more well-known, but no less intriguing.
Historian Jeff Maloof was searching for archival photography of Chicago when he purchased a box full of undeveloped film at an auction. Upon developing them, he realised he had uncovered one of 20th century America’s greatest photographers. Thousands and thousands of photographs revealed an intimate and tender portrait of America – and a masterful talent. But it soon emerges that the photographer was not an educated, ego-driven artist longing for recognition, but an unassuming New York nanny, who had kept her work private her whole life. Maloof thus finds himself at the centre of an intriguing quandary: should the desire to share great art and acknowledge the artist come at the expense of the artist’s privacy – particularly when it seems their wish was to remain as invisible as their undeveloped negatives?
It’s a question that only becomes more difficult as Maloof’s investigation continues. Maier is revealed to have been an incredibly complex and secretive woman. It also appears that her desire for privacy was hugely aided by the class divide between her and her employers, who never attempted to understand The Help – a blindness that contrasts with Maier’s searingly observant work, which seems to effortlessly capture the truth, humour and humanity of her subjects.
A fascinating documentary about art, ego and identity.