It is the magical and sacred essence of photography that allows it to make the invisible visible, bringing forth what is right there in front of everyone's eyes but remains imperceptible to most. It's not “The Lord Sees”; it's “The Camera Sees.” Amy Arbus stands behind that camera, capturing and portraying what would otherwise be imperceptible. And what does she place in front of it? What does this American photographer, whom the world calls a master or queen of portraiture, position before her lens? She placed Madonna, not when she was already Madonna, but as someone passing by on the street. Would you have noticed her? Amy Arbus did. She depicted furious babies in uncompromising and unsettling postures. Do you think a baby's life is easy, and their duty is to smile and be cuddly? Suffering begins early, and Arbus captured it. And what about paintings? What about art? The classics? Don't they lose a bit of their vitality when they hang languidly in museums, observed through screens, or sold for dizzying
