The Dance of Death, with flashbulbs and film.
Apr 9, 2012, Vol. 17, No. 29 • By STEFAN BECK
Among the many artifacts on view here, courtesy of curator Brian Wallis, the one most faithful to the Weegee experience is a check stub from Life, $35 for “two murders.” Blood money? The model of Usher Fellig’s shabby quarters lies waiting to rebuke anyone who’d accuse him of exploitation or opportunism. Part of his working night was spent looking, having a good time. The greater part was spent translating human frailty into a vocabulary any dope could understand.
If that’s a crime, we’re all accomplices.
Stefan Beck writes on fiction for the New Criterion and elsewhere.
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