Everyone’s a photographer these days. Or so the saying goes. Our phones and Instagram allow us to share our lives down to the millisecond. It’s wonderful and overwhelming at the same time. And there’s always the question of authenticity. Is your ex really have THAT much fun without you?
The godmother of all candid photographers is Nan Goldin. In our media saturated world, her photos may look like others on your feed. But only at first glance. Her documentation of friends, lovers, and people on the street is uncompromisingly honest and at times, brutally disquieting.

Nan Goldin, Twisting at my birthday party, New York City, 1980, from The Ballad of Sexual Dependency (Aperture 2012)
One Of Them
Goldin arrived in New York City in 1979, a period in the city easily romanticized. It was grungy, wild, and cheap. The AIDs epidemic was fast approaching and drug use ran rampant. It was in this world of beauty and tragedy that Goldin created her work. She lived the same lives of her subject matters. This motley crew of artists, junkies, drag queens, and outsiders was her chosen family.
She snapped thousands of photographs of them in their apartments, on the street, in clubs, and in bed. Some of her most timeless pieces are of couples falling in and out of bed. A self-portrait of her and her abusive lover Brian captures the distance often present in relationships, lit by a golden haze of the sun or a neon sign.

Nan Goldin, Nan and Brian in bed, New York City, 1983, from The Ballad of Sexual Dependency (Aperture 2012)
Not “Real” Photography
Her masterpiece, The Ballad of Sexual Dependency, was first created as a slideshow and later published as a book. This series of her nocturnal New York life was scorned by critics. How could messily composed snapshots of miscreants be art? Luckily for us, Goldin didn’t care what anyone said and continued shooting.
She showed this work all over the city. It was malleable and easily transformed. She would show the slideshow with or without music, anywhere from thirty to ninety minutes. A party would form around the glowing of screen, the subject matters come to life on the gallery floor.
A Ballad of Lost
Goldin often worked in series. This includes Heartbeat, a grouping of couples and lovers, and Sisters, Saints & Sybyls, a series about her sister who committed suicide at 18 years old. Goldin, like many living in cities in the 80’s, lost many friends to overdose or AIDs. One of her most treasured muses was Cookie Mueller. Mueller was an actress who appeared in John Waters’ films, who passed away of complications from AIDS in 1989. Every photo of Mueller is defiant, fearless, and gorgeous.

Nan Goldin, Cookie in Tin Pan Alley, New York City, 1983
Source: Artnet.com
Goldin captured her friends in fleeting moments and over many years. She shot them to remember them, even as they passed away, one after the other. She writes in the closing statement in The Ballad of Sexual Dependency, “The book is now a volume of loss, while still a ballad of love.”
Influences and Influencers
While untrained for the most part, Goldin learned a great deal from her fellow photographers. Larry Clark is a primary influence. His camera lens passed over the saccharine myth of the midwest and went straight for the jugular with his photos of friends engaged in less than wholesome activities. Diane Arbus also shot outcasts like Goldin and Clark, but from a distance, acting as a documentarian as opposed to a co-conspirator.
Goldin has showed her work all over the world. Her style continues to inspire everyone from Wolfgang Tillmans to Juergen Teller. And perhaps, most importantly, all of us out there living our own lives and snapping photos to remember it all.

