UNTITLED: AUG. 22, 1956
A steady noon sun, warm white sand and the rhythmic hum of waves are more than a tired man can resist. Maier finds him asleep on a beach, his hat a makeshift pillow squished under his head, his languid body slowly sinking into flowing sand. We smile at the incongruous nature of the scene – our subject is fully dressed, his pants pressed, plaid shirt buttoned at the cuffs, socks and dress shoes on his feet. He seems to have plopped onto the beach from nowhere, as there are remnants of only a few footprints leading to his resting spot.
Open space and repeated horizontal lines lend this photo a sense of tranquility. The man’s horizontal pose, the hairs on his head, the lines in his shirt, the water’s edge, the horizon line itself, wispy clouds in the sky (visible on the museum print) – even a row of pebbles forms a line extending to infinity left, infinity right. Maier’s lens again captures the tiniest details. Pant buttons, pocket tabs and creases. Wrinkles in his relaxed hand. The softest impressions in the sand.
Possibly, the man is as homeless as Maier’s throwaway man; perhaps this is the most peaceful place he can find to sleep – alone on an empty beach. We wonder if Maier came to this open space to find rest from the busy, congested streets as well. Either way, her photograph provides respite for our eyes.
(CONTINUED)
Christine Sierocki Lupella 