Vivian Maier was a photographer, who was by no means a “household name”. She was someone who, during the era when Street Photography was the interest of many prestigious photographers, humbly kept to herself: making photographs purely for the sense of personal accomplishment. This is admirable by anyone’s standards, as she was unconcerned with money, or any of the glitz and glamour that came with being a well known photographer. “The photos are amazing both for the breadth of the work and for the high quality of the humorous, moving, beautiful, and raw images of all facets of city life in America’s post-war golden age,” (Dyer, Geoff). By no measure was Maier an amateur photographer; she was able to make compositions that, during her time, would be considered as good, if not better, than the photography giants of the time, like Henri Cartier-Bresson or Walker Evans. Vivian Maier’s work transcends the work of her peers not only in the way that she was able to capture moments in such an intimate way, but in how she approached photography with an unmatched humbleness, patience, and empathy.

Vivian Maier was born in New York City to Maria Jassaud and Charles Maier. Throughout her childhood, Maier lived in both France and the United States, switching between living with her mother and father, who divorced in her early childhood. Her mother reportedly re-married to Jeanne Bertrand, a well-known portrait photographer during the time. At the age of 25, Maier moved from France to the United States, where she found herself working in a sweatshop (Dyer, Geoff). After working in a sweatshop for several years, Maier moved to Chicago where she began working on and off as a nanny: the line of work she would stay in for 40 years, moving from family to family. The families she worked for described her as a person who kept to herself — a loner of sorts (Kotlowitz, Alex). During her free time, she could be found walking the streets of Chicago, taking pictures of people, but never showing the negatives to anyone else, and never making any prints. Maier died at age 83 in Chicago, Illinois. “She was a Socialist, a Feminist, a movie critic, and a tell-it-like-it-is type of person. She learned English by going to theaters, which she loved. She wore a men's jacket, men's shoes, and a large hat most of the time,” said John Maloof, the man who discovered her negatives some years after she died. “In the winter of 2007, John Maloof, a 26-year-old realtor who was co-writing a book on his Portage Park neighborhood of Chicago, stumbled upon a box of negatives at an auction house,” (Kotlowitz, Alex). This is an important part of Maier’s story: If Maloof hadn’t stumbled upon those negatives, then her story, her life, and her wonderfully composed photographs would still be laying in an auction house, unopened and undiscovered.

Because of her very private and humble style, no one really knows what type of views Maier had on photography: although we can make inferences from the fact that she never shared any of her work. Maier had many great photographs, and very easily could have made a living off of her photography: the question is, why didn’t she? Perhaps she thought that photography should not be a “for profit” business. Perhaps for Maier, photography was about expressing ideas, capturing moments, and exploring the human spirit: not for monetary gain, but as a way of learning about people, with nothing in mind other than the love of learning.

Maier’s humbleness, and seemingly anti-social behavior are the other things that I was drawn to when studying her work and life. In the world of photography, especially today, the idea of photography as an art is becoming more and more pursued as a career. I say the idea of photography as an art, because many photographers seem to be seeking money, or fame, or recognition, for their photographs: I find it very respectable, noble in a way, that Maier never shared her negatives with anyone, let alone sell them or try to make a career out of photography.

I chose to speak about Vivian Maier because of her uniquely intimate style of photography, her unique mindset, and the beautiful photographs that she was able to produce. I find it very difficult to capture a moment for several different reasons: the first is that, once that moment passes, there is not another chance to get it. Bresson called this the, “decisive moment,” and I think that, in a world filled with so much information and so many conflicting pieces of advice, these “decisive moments” are becoming harder and harder to feel confident about: I feel that a lot of artists have self-doubt. We are aware of much art throughout the world, more than ever, and we are also more aware of where we fit into this giant world of art. It makes one feel small, uncomfortably small, and it leads us to seek approval — and I think this may be why we feel that fame will make us happy — because if you have fame, it

must mean that your artwork is meaningful. Maier is perhaps the only photographer we know of who has realized that photography is not about the final print — that it isn’t even about the image itself. Photography is about human connection; it’s about training your eye to see the world for what it is. Maier allows us to see the experience intimate moments with strangers, all placed against the backdrop of a big, anonymous cities — we are able to empathize with the familiar expressions of people we have never met, people we have nothing in common with. Vivian Maier is an incredible photographer, not only because of her unique style and highly interesting compositions, but because she seems to be making philosophical statements about the world in general: what do we truly value? What would we give up our lives for? What, if any, common ground is there between us? And how much empathy will it take, how many lives must we live, to bridge the chasm of apathy dividing us?