Draw & Drive - The Mystery that is Vivian Maier
Whenever one finds out
about the woman who died
intriguingly leaving behind
several storage lockers
filled to the brim
with questions,
her life’s possessions,
and hundreds of film rolls,
undeveloped
they are stunned silent.
The unprocessed photo rolls,
in both black&white, and colour,
a treasure trove of covered,
undiscovered negatives,
documentaries and audio recordings,
homemade,
what burns here is the question:
Why?
All that potential
almost lost,
for reasons why
– without her to confirm or deny-
are often reduced to their cost.
A budget she did seem to lack,
or is this mystery more mired than that?
Her priorities known
to no one but her own
leaves a mystery
with the only answers left
to be found in her history
as hoped by those exploring
her traces and choices;
from switching to colour
film to her extensive solo
travels & streetlife subject matter.
The sole remains of her leading
us, curious people, to likening
these to the key of her drive.
But it is not solely the mystery
that is keeping all kinds of people
engaged. – her photography
is a play of passion,
of constant engagement with people,
the self,
heartful, human humour,
and human and animal behaviour.
A moving eye for the
newspaper vendor taking a nap;
the construction worker smoking
whilst staring straight at her
from a ladder;
the little boy with his face
smushed against the window,
quiet and curious,
the spark in his eyes also one
of connection;
the siblings roughhousing
within a parked car in Chicago;
a woman in red with her hands
clutched behind her back
the nervousness caught in
the pressing of fingers:
also captured her own likeness
looking into her lenses, openly.
A quiet confidence
corroborating her existence.
Whether drive or desire,
for delight, satisfaction
or the joy of connection
her masterful eye
wandering along the streets
capturing whatever her eyes
clapped on,
ensured that her curiosity
peaked what is now here to stay
and make us admire, wonder,
and maybe wander ourselves.
Designed by Giulia Cristofoli