If you have been following this blog, it’s clear I have a deep affection for the street photographers of last century. The fervent reverence for these artists stems from a mix of both admiration of the craft and nostalgia for bygone eras.
I just finished reading a biography of pre-Kennedy Jackie Bouvier (Camera Girl: The Coming of Age of Jackie Bouvier Kennedy by Carl Sferrazza Anthony) that covered 1949-1953, which included the tail end of her time in college, her brief stint abroad in Paris, and her also brief career as a photographer and columnist for the now-defunct Washington Times-Herald. Typically not one for biographies, I did enjoy this one, and found myself curious what Paris in the early 50’s may have looked like when she visited.
This is where Robert Doisneau comes in.
Doisneau began photographing at an early age, then worked as a freelance street photographer before his time in World War II documenting the French Resistance. His career as a photographer really started to blossom after the war, when he again turned his photographic eye to the streets of Paris. A contemporary of Henri Cartier-Bresson, Doisneau was also a worshipper at the altar of the “decisive moment.” While his portfolio is large and sprawling, the most striking of his images are those where he was at the right place at the right time.
The marvels of daily life are so exciting; no movie director can arrange the unexpected that you find in the street.
— Robert Doisneau
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| Two ladies in their Sunday best, rue de Buci, Paris, Sixth Arrondissement, Sunday, March 22, 1953 |
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| Maurice Baquet by the steps at rue Vilin, Paris, Twentieth Arrondissement, 1957 |
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| Le Garde et les Ballons, 1946 |
While I was flipping through Robert Doisneau: A Photographer’s Life, the giant tome I picked up at the Strand several years ago, I came across the following photo of Doisneau’s friend Robert Giraud on a rooftop holding a cat all trussed up in what appeared to be a cat-sized straight jacket. Entitled “Thief of Cats,” I believed at first that Giraud was simply removing the feline from the rooftop after having captured it. When I read the caption, I discovered I could not have been more wrong.
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| Robert Giraud, "thief of cats," 1954 |
“Bob” Giraud with cat-catching equipment on the rooftop of the Hôtel de Ville, Paris, Fourth Arrondissement. “It was not long after the Occupation. The scarcity of furs and coal gave birth to a new industry – the exploitation of cat fur. The pelts of this carnivore were, it seems, charged with electricity, possessing the power to keep you warm at relatively modest cost, to cure rheumatism. Advertising slogans confirmed it. (Robert Giraud, Le Vin des rues, 1955).
While heartbreaking to know house cats were being hunted for their coats, it is certainly a poignant commentary on the state of post-war Europe and the means by which people got by. Though not all dismal, there are also photos of joy, especially when he was photographing children in the streets, before, during, and after the war.
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| Le remorqueur, 1943 |
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| Danse à la fontaine, Latin Quarter, Paris, Fifth Arrondissement, 1947 |
I’m sure the Paris that Miss Bouvier experienced was an interesting juxtaposition of both ends of the post-war spectrum and her own privileged means. So enthralled was she with the people she met and the places she visited, she very nearly did not return to the US to finish college. Through exploration of Doisneau’s work I have gained a better understanding of that era of Paris, and for the first time, I feel a kinship with Jackie: I did not want to return to the US when I visited Paris either.
