The title of a photography exhibit up now at the Chicago Cultural Center — Finding Vivian Maier — hints at the near loss of the almost 100 prints being shown.

Vivian Maier died in obscurity in 2009, leaving behind an enormous collection of never-seen photography. Through sheer luck, boxes of her prints and negatives (sold in an auction of an unclaimed storage unit’s contents) found their way into the hands of people who recognized their importance. Maier is now getting her first solo exhibition, posthumously.

As further details of her life are uncovered, a few facts have been confirmed. Born in New York City, she spent much of her life in Chicago working as a nanny. A bit of a loner, Maier’s weekends were spent wandering the streets, camera in hand.

Like the big names in street photography, she had an eye for the “decisive moment.” The scenes Maier froze in time are everyday — a couple clasping hands, women waiting for the bus — except for that fact that everything in each frame is perfectly placed.

The exhibit shows Maier was drawn to light, shadow and reflection and she was fluent in many different styles.

In several of the photos, suspicious, questioning eyes of women snapped on the street peer at the camera. Torsos are abundant, possibly because her camera, a Rolleiflex, hangs from the neck while the photographer views the frame from the top. This setup gives a lower perspective while allowing a less intrusive way to candidly capture strangers.

There are also some more subtle, artsy photos. In one, a fully-clothed man lies on his side on a beach. One leg is kicked over the other mimicking the shape of a wave crashing on the sand behind him.

And she definitely had a sharp sense of humor.

In a 1979 photo of a man buying a souvenir for his son, the seller’s head is replaced by a portrait of the Pope he is holding. In another, a man walking down the street is cropped from neck to knees. In his right hand he holds a publication cover featuring another man’s head cropped at the neck. In yet another, Maier captures the Sphinx on the left with a horse cropped at the midsection on the right — a composition one man at the exhibit described to his friend as a “visual joke.”

And the humor doesn’t stop there. In one of her many self portraits, she captures the shadow of her hatted head on the muddied, bent over backside of a worker.

The photos date from the ’50s to the late ’70s, the latter in color. Most of were taken in New York City and Chicago, but Maier’s photos depict some traveling, too, to Egypt, Yemen and Malaysia.

As to why Maier never showed her photos, we can only guess at this point. A note on display from a photo shop — “Do best job — so no redo!! Customer is very particular” — shows it wasn’t because she didn’t care about her work.

The photographs Vivian Maier left behind raise many questions, but there’s no questioning her eye for photography.