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It is reductive and tiresome to write about Diane Arbus and immediately bring up her death.
It also seems almost impossible not to, for a couple of reasons.
(Who can avoid imagining what greatness lay ahead?)
Some are kids, others older.
They seem to be on outings, usually in a field or in front of some trees.
Im not going to do it anymore.
(That moment opensArthur Lubows superb biography of Arbus, published in 2016.)
FINALLY, she wrote, what Ive been searching for.
What she found near the end of her journey was, even now, intimidatingly complex.
(As if Down syndrome were infectious, that we might catch something.)
Yet the subjects themselves seem pretty happy.
Theyre dressed up, either for Halloween or just for a day out.
Most are smiling for the camera.
Theyve chosen their outfits to present a look to the world, same as you or I do.
Diane Arbus Untitled is at David Zwirner through December 15.
