Family Matters

Diane Arbus with daughters Doon and Amy

I felt well enough to read a bit yesterday after taking my mother to two doctor's appointments.  It took the entire afternoon, but I managed to get a walk in that morning.  

It had been a week.  It was hard. 

I needed to get outside myself, so I did a little research on Diane Arbus.  That is pronounced "Dee Ann."  You must remember, she was raised in wealth and status.  Her father was a wealthy department store owner in Manhattan.  She had a brother and a sister.  Her brother, Howard Nemerov, became one of America's most honored poets.  Her sister became a sculptor.  

Maybe it was genetic.  Maybe it was privilege.  

Arbus lived a strange life.  Researchers have noted her promiscuous sexuality.  

"As a child," according to her biographer, “Diane masturbated in the bathroom with the blinds up, to insure that people across the street could watch her, and as an adult she sat next to the patrons of porno cinemas, in the dark, and gave them a helping hand.” 

Arbus offhandedly reported that she began having sex with her brother, Howard, when they were children.  They continued their affair through their adult lives.  

At the age of thirteen, she flirted with her future husband, Allan Arbus, who was a penniless employee in her father's department store.  He was eighteen at the time.  Against her parents' wishes, they married when she turned eighteen.  Allan became a fashion photographer for awhile before he turned to acting.  He eventually got a role as Dr. Sidney Freedman on the t.v. show, "M.A.S.H."

Diane became her husband's photo assistant on fashion shoots.  She was reportedly a talented painter, but she said she hated it.  She did, however, fall in love with the camera.  In 1941, Allan gave her a Rollieflex camera as a gift.  

She gave up fashion and took to the streets.  

Allan and Diane's marriage was an open one, each of them having multiple affairs.  Diane once reported that she would have sex with anyone who asked for it.  She would frequent porno movie theaters and offer to give patrons "a helping hand."  

She met the artist Marvin Israel who encouraged her photography.  He was married, but Marvin and Diane became lovers.  Eventually, she and Allan moved into separate apartments.  They had two daughters, Doon and Amy, who lived with Diane.  Allan continued to support the family.  Diane's reputation as a photographer grew.  

Diane famously said that, "What you notice about people is the flaw."  That became the hallmark of her photography.  She was drawn to freaks, and as her career progressed, she became more intimate with them.  She often would spend days or weeks with them.  In some cases, she slept with them.  

Although she was gaining fame for her photographs, she was having trouble making money.  Marvin Israel would not leave his wife and was losing interest in Diane.  He began sleeping with her daughter, Doon.  

"Arbus, obsessed, tried distracting herself with other men and, occasionally, women. [S[he participated in orgies, slept with her photographic subjects and even solicited strangers for sex."

Arbus contracted hepatitis and her health began to fade.  She was afraid of aging and treatment for hepatitis was aging her badly.  She suffered from depression.  

In 1971, she had a sexual encounter with her brother, Howard, on last time.  Two weeks later, at the age of 41, she committed suicide.  

Doon was in Paris at the time.  Richard Avedon flew over to give her the news.  By default, Doon became the proprietor of Arbus' work.  

“After Diane’s death, Marvin and Doon socialized and traveled together as a couple,” Arbus' biographer Lubow reports, though Israel continued to live with his wife.

Arbus repeatedly said during her lifetime that all families were "creepy" because they offer such an arbitrary sense of belonging. Children don't choose their parents, but the accident of consanguinity forges bizarre, everlasting bonds.

A year after her death, Diane Arbus' Aperture Monograph was published and her fame as a photographer skyrocketed.  To date, she is considered one of the most iconic photographers of the 20th century.  

* * *

I didn't know any of this when I studied her work as a photo student.  Nobody was making such pictures then. . . or now.  I saw the exhibition of 100 of her early unpublished works in 2015 at the Met Breuer, the former Whitney Museum, with Ili.  It swept me away.  The largest presentation of Arbus' work is on display now through August 17 at the Park Avenue Armory.  Nine more days.  Obviously, I won't be able to go.  I have family duties to attend to.  

Last night, I lay down for the first time in a week without taking any cold and flu meds to make me drowsy.  I had crazy dreams.  Some were wonderful.  I'd watched a bit of "Man in the Moon," at the suggestion of Red.  Then I watched the remaining episodes of "Sirens" on Netflix.  Some of my dreams were sexual.  Such were my reading and watching habits, I guess.  Any time I would wake in the night, I would think of my Leica film camera and what I wanted to do with it.  It was the most pleasant night I've had in. . . how long?  

I feel better today.  Some of the illness still lingers, but overall, I think I can function somewhat normally again.  

Doctors appointments again today.  I won't trouble you with that.  It is Friday.  Party!