On Arbus, continued

“What I’m trying to describe is that it’s impossible to get out of your skin and into somebody else’s. And that’s what all this is a little bit about. That somebody else’s tragedy is not the same as your own.” –Diane Arbus

The Arbus photograph above, “A young man in curlers at home on West 20th Street, N.Y.C.,” is just one of Arbus’ famous photographs of “freaks.” My recent study of Arbus began to manifest itself in my photography the other day. I brought my medium format rangefinder to work and worked up the nerve to go photograph the kids at the bus mall across the street. This took a lot of courage on my part: I’ve never approached strangers asking to photograph them, and these kids don’t appear to be very friendly. These are the kinds of kids that will hang out there all day instead of going to school or work. With their tattoos, piercings, dingy clothes, and general “noise,” they all seem to be rebelling against something. Maybe against their parents, or teachers, or perhaps against everything in mainstream society. They all seem like outcasts from their larger peer group. Outcasts like I am in my home.

I felt surprisingly successful in this first attempt at photographing them. While I’ve not developed the film yet, my interaction with those kids was surprisingly warm. Only a couple of them refused to be photographed, and most were readily willing. One kid complimented my efforts. I plan to go back there again and again, and the results should eventually make a telling series on this period in my life. Maybe I’ll become known as the bus mall regular with the camera. That would be fine with me.

Because one can always use more friends.