The book of photographs by Maier contains a couple of essays by Maloof and Dyer, which discuss how the negatives were found, the efforts Maloof has made to present them and place them in context, and in Dyer's essay, an appraisal of the wonderful body of work Maier left behind.
These are all astonishing photos - glimpses into a lost world of 50 years. For someone of my age, they offer a glimpse into the world of my childhood - styles that were popular with older people when I was a child, the recollection of certain types of shoe styles, the density of commercial development, even the names of department stores on shopping bags, the many different papers that were once sold at newsstands and how cheap they once were. I certainly hope Maloof will continue to present the mass of photos - it may indeed become his life work as the photographer left behind 100,000 negatives. Once they are presented, there's no doubt that she will have to be considered among the most talented, and lucky photographers that ever lived.
She was photographing random bits of time - happenstance - anywhere and everywhere in Chicago and New York. The subjects are all strangers, and the streets are often difficult to identify, although occasionally there are familiar landmarks like the Chrysler Building, or it's obvious a photo was taken on the Staten Island Ferry. There's hopelessness, time, strangers' entire life story is etched in deeply wrinkled faces, but there's also mystery, possibly the idea of being caught up in various games in the meticulously groomed veiled younger women - randomly photographed, sometimes in front of recognizable landmarks like the 42nd Street branch of the New York Public Library. What was considered "respectable" and "well-groomed" then as opposed to how people dress today - or don't bother to dress; part of the change occurred in the iconoclastic 60s, after which everyone tried to emulate the trappings of the counterculture - it was cool to be hip, and anything associated with the lost world Maier photographed, prior to the 60s, was jettisoned (or maybe a few older people still continued to dress demurely despite the change in ethos). Structured clothing, tightly cinched belts, all sorts of hats, headscarfs, the busy details of an outfit - all of that changed, to be supplanted with the uniform of jeans, T-shirts, more casual wear.
Maier knew no-one would obtain or deal with her work - her belongings were discovered in an auction of the contents of a storage cubicle. If the message is that her work was entirely random, in a way so was her life as an observer of random people and events, and thus consigning her work to a random fate, may have been the only deliberate thing she did - if her work survived and was recognized as great, all the better (of course, there was no way she would know as the contents of the storage closet were auctioned off after her death); if not, if no-one ever appreciated her work and it was all simply disposed of - it probably would have been regarded as a fitting irony, or perhaps completely consistent with her entirely random life.