“I would like to photograph all people,” wrote the American photographer Diane Arbus to the artist Marvin Israel, with whom she had long been closely connected and who played a crucial role in supporting her career as a photographer. In the 1950s and 1960s she mainly photographed people who otherwise went unnoticed. In other words, people who are often said to live on the margins of society.
Because Arbus wanted to bring all people before the camera, those who were already in the spotlight as artists eventually joined in as well. Although many of those shots were commissioned for magazines. Names such as Mae West and Joan Crawford, Norman Mailer and Jayne Mansfield, all the way to Roy Lichtenstein and Jorge Luis Borges appear—a colorful crowd in black and white. These are strikingly unassuming photographs, but they are especially compelling because they strive to show the people behind the façades rather than their facades. Moving, for example, the two sisters and former silent-film stars Lillian and Dorothy Gish as they stroll through New York’s Central Park.
Photographs as Works of Art
Diane Arbus, born in 1923 in New York to Russian-Jewish parents, became one of the most significant photographers of the 20th century. She mastered a portrait photography that truly elevated the craft to the status of fine art. She was the first American photographer whose work was shown at the Venice Biennale in 1972. The artistic claim could not have been stated more plainly. She herself did not live to see that success. The year before, she took her own life. Unfortunately, it was only after her death that her fame grew so large.
Her portraiture has long since entered the upper echelon of international photographic art, many of them radiating an almost iconic presence. At the Berlin Martin-Gropius-Bau, through mid-January 2026, there is a retrospective titled “Konstellationen”—454 black-and-white photographs in various formats, as many as ever exhibited. Berlin is now the third stop after the Museum LUMA in Arles and a run in New York.
It is a unique opportunity to view all of these expressive portraits, which always seem casually captured, yet were most often carefully staged. Arbus was fascinated by street photography, which works with snapshots and the luck of the moment, but she was also drawn to press photography and its blinding flashbulbs. For what both genres happened to capture—accidentally and spontaneously—was always presented as true and truly verifiable. Nothing less should be visible in her photographs—a raw, authentic life.
A Diverse Queer Life Documented
I think there isn’t a single photo in this fascinating body of work that doesn’t embody this maxim. Whether it’s the unassuming shot of Susan Sontag with her son David, or the debutante of 1938 lying in her bed 28 years later, her face strangely masklike and weathered, a cigarette in hand and a white sable stole draped over her shoulder. A strange, disquieting pseudo-reality that we sense in another image—the two older women dressed in black with hats strolling through the misty Central Park, their left and right trees bare and long shadows stretching between them. Or the trans woman on the sofa, an older lady, elegantly clad in a little black dress and adorned with a pearl necklace.
Another guiding principle for the photographer was to go where she had never been before. So she ventured into nightlife, photographing barmaids and strippers and the queer scene, meeting nudists, observing beauty-pageants, and photographing bodybuilders or people who performed in so-called freak shows. Next, she would attend a Scout gathering or participate in the annual picnic of the Federation of the Handicapped. Twins held a particular fascination for her.
An impressive section of the show also includes numerous photographs of trans people and drag performers, documenting a diverse queer life—unsurprisingly, all taken in New York. This underscores, more than anything, how urban spaces create ideal habitats for subcultures of every stripe.
Photos as a Kind of Human Rights Plea
Arbus visited people in their backstage dressing rooms and sometimes in their own homes. She always sought to meet the photographed on eye level. At one point, she used a camera positioned at hip height, allowing direct eye contact with those photographed. This aligns with a remark she made: “When I stand before something, I do not arrange what is in front of me, but myself.” In this way, she is always an invisible participant in the photographs, present through the way she regards people and literally places them in the best light.
Perhaps this approach helped her avoid turning those photographed into objects of voyeuristic observation. That many of them faced everyday discrimination, Arbus was well aware of, and thus it was even more important to present confident individuals in the images. If one wants to call it that, each photograph is a form of human rights advocacy.
Exhibition in the Lattice Labyrinth
Lisette Model, a photographer and street-photography expert who mentored Arbus, played a pivotal role in her development. Under Model’s guidance, Arbus learned, “The more specific you are, the more universal it will become.” Put differently, the more concrete the image, the more universal the message, turning the human condition into a parable. For those who want to understand how that works, the exhibition now presents 454 opportunities to see it in action.
Another note about the presentation—aptly titled “Konstellationen” (Constellations)—is that walking through the gallery spaces, the photographs are linked to one another. Curator Matthiew Humery chose a lattice-like layout, with the black-framed images hung in ways that invite glimpses through and place the works in dialogue with one another. There is no strict chronological or thematic ordering, which allows for surprising juxtapositions and neighborly conversations between pictures.
The exhibition “Diane Arbus: Konstellationen” is still on view through January 18, 2026, at the Gropius Bau (Niederkirchnerstraße 7, 10963 Berlin-Mitte)
