The world lost a legend this weekend with the passing of Diane Keaton, but her legacy extends far beyond her iconic film roles. What many don’t realize is that Keaton was also a visionary photographer and artist, leaving behind a body of work that invites us into her uniquely captivating mind. Her final book, Saved: My Picture World, is more than a posthumous release—it’s a heartfelt invitation to explore the eclectic, deeply personal landscape of her creativity.
But here's where it gets fascinating: Saved isn’t just a photo album. It’s a visual autobiography, a treasure trove of saved and found curiosities that reflect Keaton’s fascinations and her unmistakable charm. From quirky stills of “B” horror movies to intimate snapshots of pigeons on a film break or the eccentric “greeters” of Hollywood Boulevard, the book is a window into her lifelong love affair with images—both peculiar and profoundly personal.
And this is the part most people miss: Keaton’s photography wasn’t just a hobby; it was an extension of her artistic soul. Her debut photography book, Reservations (1980), revealed a quiet, evocative world that foreshadowed her passion for architecture and design. Armed with her Rolleiflex camera, she captured the forgotten grandeur of classic American hotels in stark black-and-white square-format images. The direct flash she often used illuminated ornate wallpapers, velvet upholstery, and solitary furniture, giving her work a cool, idiosyncratic, and subtly unsettling aesthetic.
But here’s where it gets controversial: While Keaton’s photography is undeniably beautiful, some critics argue that her use of flash and square format feels too clinical, stripping away the warmth of her subjects. What do you think? Does her style enhance or detract from the emotional depth of her work? Let’s discuss in the comments.
Beyond photography, Keaton’s visual passion spilled into architecture and design. Books like The House That Pinterest Built (2017) and California Romantica (2019) showcase her role as a tastemaker and advocate for design history. These works, rich with images, chronicle her aesthetic interests and cement her reputation as a creative force.
It’s impossible to talk about Keaton’s photography without mentioning her iconic role as Annie Hall. Remember the scene where she whips out her Nikon F2? When she turns her lens on Alvy Singer (Woody Allen), his fretful musings about photography as a new art form without established criteria are met with her pragmatic, instinctive approach. “Well, to me it’s all instinctive,” she shrugs. “I just try to feel it.” This moment perfectly encapsulates Keaton’s real-life philosophy—art isn’t about overthinking; it’s about feeling and capturing the essence of a moment.
Saved: My Picture World is more than a book—it’s a testament to Keaton’s profound and original visual talent. It’s not something you simply browse; it’s an invitation to dive deep into the mind of one of the greatest creative talents of our time. So, as you scroll through the images and collages from her photobook, ask yourself: What does Keaton’s work reveal about her? And more importantly, what does it inspire within you?
