Page 30 - Studio International - December 1971
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elegance aspired to is not necessarily the less   Atget and been taken in a way that enables them   Lange's individually moving but collectively all
      real because of the grotesqueness of the means   to be there simply as individuals, not 'types',   too uniformly decent, careworn, undeservedly
      used to attain it. Again, where the series of   viewed without indignation, contempt,   suffering sharecroppers are obvious examples of
      prostitutes is concerned, two more pictures   sentimentality, or fuss of any kind.   this ;36   so, in the opposite direction, are the
      should be mentioned.34  One is of a couple of   And the same disinterested respect for   grainy vacuous monsters of too many of Frank's
      figures posed casually in a doorway, he a   identities informs Atget's better-known pictures   pictures. Again, just as Cartier-Bresson When
      youngish soldier in undress uniform and cap,   of individuals in more reputable trades. Great   his genius flags tends to fall into a Family-of-
      legs comfortably crossed, hand on hip, face   portraiture, whether formal or informal, is   Man cuteness or quaintness or slightly
     moustached and good-humoured, she in a short,   almost certainly no easier in photography than   spurious 'warmness', so Strand, in his ruthless
     white, simple house-dress, the door slightly ajar   it is in painting (the genre seems to me to be to   eschewal of precisely that sort of thing, has too
     behind her, a faintly diffident half-smile on her   photography what drawing is to the other   often imposed a glumness on his subjects that
     youngish-looking, unmade-up face. They are   graphic arts, namely the form in which faking is   is even more irritating because done with such
     completely real and individual beings, posing for   least easy), and one of the glories of the art is   obvious deliberation and conviction.37  With
     the camera in the course of a normal relationship.   that it has given us the finest portraits of   Atget these kinds of falsification don't occur.
     So are the three handsome, dark-haired,   Mathew Brady, Julia Margaret Cameron, Paul   His subjects are simply there, taken in their
     middle-aged 'girls' in the second of the two   Strand, Alfred Stieglitz, Walker Evans,   professional clothes and for the most part
     pictures (V93), posed in a doorway in a   Berenice Abbott,35  Dorothea Lange, Henri   engaged in the pursuit of their professions,
     comfortably neighbourly fashion like three   Cartier-Bresson, and others. But there would   sometimes smiling, sometimes pensive,
     housewives who have been visiting each other.   seem to be special temptations for the   occasionally a shade odd (like the little
     And even the other prostitutes and/or madams   photographer in the way of producing too   umbrella-merchant, black-coated and hatted
     that I have mentioned have likewise posed for    obviously controlled a response. Dorothea   in the hot sunlight) or even, like one or two of the
     12                                                                                  prostitute/madams, a shade sinister. And as far
                                                                                         as the main emphasis goes, these are plainly
                                                                                         not people entrapped and distorted by the city.
                                                                                         As Miss Abbott puts it, 'human dignity is
                                                                                         expressed in each and all' of the pictures."
                                                                                            Two pictures stand out especially in this
                                                                                         respect. The first seems to me one of the
                                                                                         unquestionable masterpieces of twentieth-
                                                                                         century art, for all its relative simplicity and
                                                                                         immediacy of impact. Heavily whiskered,
                                                                                         middle-aged, expressionless under a shabby hat,
                                                                                         a street-musician stares towards the camera
                                                                                         from behind a little street-piano (W49, Vi i6,
                                                                                         A20, C24). His right hand blurs slightly as he
                                                                                         turns the handle, his left hand rests on the other
                                                                                         corner of the machine, and against or on that
                                                                                         hand rests the hand of his tiny, long-skirted,
                                                                                         black-scarved singer, who is gazing upwards,
                                                                                         head thrown back, mouth half-open as if in
                                                                                         song. Their clothes are heavy-looking, redolent
                                                                                         of dirt and perspiration; the man is not
                                                                                         especially prepossessing, the woman is almost a
                                                                                         midget; the positioning of the wheels of the
                                                                                         piano emphasizes the travelling they do, the
                                                                                         oil-cloth cover on the piano recalls the weathers
                                                                                         they face, and the bourgeois façade behind them
                                                                                         is not hospitable. Yet the expression of radiant,
                                                                                         exultant happiness and pride on the woman's
                                                                                         face is unequalled by anything that I can recall
                                                                                         in art except the closing shot of Marlene
                                                                                         Dietrich in Sternberg's Scarlet Empress; and,
                                                                                         with the incongruity in ages, yet manifest
                                                                                         closeness of the couple, the picture seems to me
                                                                                         one of the greatest pictorial images of love that
                                                                                         we have. The second picture is even more
                                                                                         relevant where the essential pre-occupations of
                                                                                         Atget that I have been trying to trace are
                                                                                         concerned (see fig. 12). A working-girl and a
                                                                                         youngish street-vendor or porter are standing
                                                                                         talking in a courtyard, taken in profile, he
                                                                                         capped and with a basket strapped on his back,
                                                                                         another in his hand, she in an anlde-length long-
                                                                                         sleeved black dress with a coarse-looking apron
                                                                                         over it. (A couple of similarly attired older
                                                                                         women look on from the right; it is, one guesses,
                                                                                         a brief break from work.) The sunlight falls
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