Featured on the cover of Weegee: Society of the Spectacle are two intriguing self-portraits of this puzzling and grandiose photographer. The first image presents him in a manner parallel to a criminal’s identification photo, where Weegee confronts the viewer with an intense gaze, wielding a flash-bulb camera, his unmistakable lengthy cigar jutting out from his tightened lips.
The second portrait, however, morphs him into a distorted, comic representation of himself, akin to the abnormal reflections of a twisted fairground mirror. The juxtaposition of these two images, both taken by the same figure, points to the inherent enigma and contradiction in Weegee’s oeuvre. This striking paradox was once voiced by the man himself, Arthur Fellig, during a 1965 interview: ‘People know me by Weegee. Arthur Fellig is a stranger to me. I crafted this larger-than-life figure, Weegee, and now I can’t escape it. It’s a similar predicament to that of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.’
Weegee is primarily celebrated for his brazen, candid images of New York City during the 30s and 40s, depicting unvarnished pictures of mobsters, bloody criminal sites, fatal accidents, and ravaging fires. His reputation as an astute entrepreneur and one of the significant social documentarians of the twentieth century remains immutable.
Born in 1899 in Zolochiv, Ukraine, the young Fellig migrated to the United States in 1910. He prematurely left school at the tender age of fourteen, choosing instead to help his family economically by taking on a variety of jobs. Fellig transitioned into a freelance career in 1935. His work was augmented by his unique use of a shortwave radio, tuned to the Manhattan Police Department’s frequency, this system provided him a significant advantage, allowing him to be among the initial individuals at crime scenes.
He pointed to this almost supernatural foresight as the inspiration behind his pseudonym, Weegee, claiming it was inspired by the Ouija board. This nickname attests to his seemingly preternatural knack for knowing both the time and the place of the city’s upcoming crimes.
The potency of the raw reality documented in Weegee’s tabloid photographs is undeniable. His images reveal blood-painted avenues, lifelessly sprawled bodies, crushed vehicles, and instances of desperation. The stark illumination provided by his flash defines Weegee’s photographs, capturing sharp and well-lit scenes that ruthlessly lay bare the harsh reality of New York’s night-time criminal underbelly, in a form akin to forensic evidence.
When viewed in the context of the present day’s ceaseless image distribution, it’s hard not to see a sobering echo in Weegee’s stark images, despite their violent nature. These photographs don’t appear to be more jarring than the multitude of graphic images that populate current media channels.
Weegee’s fascination with spectacle is evident in specific photographs, where scenes of heart-stopping crime and calamity serve as dramatic backdrops for the ordinary bystanders and pedestrians. Especially poignant is the image of a young Brooklyn school girl at the center of Their First Murder (1941), as she streches her neck to catch a sight of the horrific scene, her eyes wide with curiosity and disbelief.
The moniker, Society of the Spectacle, drawn from French theorist Guy Debord’s influential 1967 essay, reflects accurately the themes of Weegee’s later work. These pictures exemplify his engagement with a culture engrossed in its own reflections. His ability to morph well-known figures into comically exaggerated and distorted images, from Marilyn Monroe to Chairman Mao, offers a rare humorous perspective on the distortions of celebrity long before the initiation of the smartphone era.
Included in the publication is a unique sequence of Weegee’s photography taken on the set of Stanley Kubrick’s film, Dr Strangelove (1964). The images reveal how members of the cast were amusingly transformed into rounded, exaggerated figures by a fish-eye lens. This unusual series provides further evidence of Weegee’s fascination with distorting reality and his ability to encompass that in his photographs.
Despite being born as Arthur Fellig, Weegee cultivated a distinct identity through his photographic work. Consistently straddling the line between reality and distortion, his images are an enduring testimony to his lens’ unique perspective on society.
The rawness of his crime scene images, the capturing of cityscape bustling with life, and his grotesque distortions of famous figures all stand as testament to his unique eye. His flip-flop between the character of Arthur Fellig and Weegee is itself a testament to the duality of perspectives he immersed himself in.
Putting our focus on the nitty-gritty of life and showcasing what is typically pushed aside in society was a trademark of his work. This ‘Society of the Spectacle’, as his Weegee persona allowed him to craft, is a telling reminder of the dual facets of life- the public and the private, crime and fun, reality and distortion.
Striking is his ability to be in the right place at the right time, in the thick of all the action. He used the brutal reality of the scenes, the common people’s reactions, and exploited the stark contrast between these to produce his masterpieces.
Weegee’s work serves as a sobering reminder of the power of images and the influence that photographers wield in shaping perceptions. He had a unique ability to capture the underlying humanness amidst the chaos, the curious onlookers, the traumatised victims- all testimonies to his lens’ power to frame reality.
In a nutshell, his persona and his art are intertwined, and the man known as Arthur Fellig and Weegee is remembered as a pioneering figure in social documentary photography and tabloid news photography. His visually engaging work still inspires photographers and captivates art audiences.