Vivian Maier: Out of the Shadows

Digging through the unprecedented treasure trove of tens of thousands of images taken by Maier, a private street photographer who never shared her work in her lifetime, Cahan and Williams have unearthed a beautiful, haunting collection of a private woman and gifted artist. Maier’s photographs often capture ordinary people caught in public giving intimacies away: an old woman lying on the beach and reacting to a newspaper; two children whispering (kissing?) behind a tennis net; a girl interrupted from her play on a beach; a handsome young man in a dirty coat standing in a doorway, open-mouthed in surprise at the photographer in front of him. This focus changes somewhat in her later pictures, as images without people more frequently arise, though those too have human traces: a scrap of paper from a political flyer nestled on some leaves; tire tracks in melting snow; an empty Coke bottle and a piece of cloth left on a table. Accompanying essays provide vital detail on Maier’s life (1926–2009) as a background for her art, though the writing borders on melodrama at times. However, the more than 200 photos carry a beauty that aches. The collection’s only and forgivable flaw is that of leaving a viewer wanting to see more of Maier’s work. Photos. (Nov.)