Marilyn Monroe lounged in an armchair, her feet swollen and tired, while Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor enjoyed a pub meal with sausages. These are just a few of the iconic moments captured by Eve Arnold’s photographs, which have become woven into the fabric of 20th-century celebrity culture. Even those unfamiliar with Arnold’s name can see from her images that being Marilyn Monroe was no easy task, and that even the most glamorous Hollywood couple indulged in a fry-up after a night of drinking.
Decades after the passing of the subjects in these photographs, the images are imbued with a rich history. They serve as warnings from a kind-hearted clairvoyant. Arnold herself passed away in 2012, just weeks before her 100th birthday. One remarkable aspect that shines through in this retrospective of her illustrious career is the level of trust her subjects placed in her when allowing her into the backstage of their lives.
The photograph of Joan Crawford’s aging skin as she applies makeup in front of a harshly unforgiving mirror captures her vulnerability. Marlene Dietrich’s puzzled expression during a recording session and Vanessa Redgrave’s exposed posterior as she pulls up a heavy white stocking in preparation for her role as Anne Boleyn in “A Man for All Seasons” all offer glimpses into the lives of these renowned women.
One striking parallel can be drawn between the image of Vanessa Redgrave and another photograph taken behind-the-scenes at a Harlem fashion show in 1950. Both images, taken ten years apart, share a remarkably similar composition. Both women are caught off balance, vulnerable, with suspender belts hanging limply over their buttocks as they struggle to dress. Both are preparing to step out as queens. Another example lies in an intimate shot of Monroe coyly covering her naked body with a sheet, which is mirrored by a seemingly candid snapshot of her fixing her hair in a dingy airport restroom, with her dress hiked up around her waist.
While Arnold was often sought after by celebrities, her portraits were never solely focused on fame. They centered around constructing an image as a means of survival for her predominantly female subjects. The Redgrave image mentioned earlier harkens back to the beginning of Arnold’s career, when she subverted a student assignment to document a fashion show into a study of a previously unexplored Harlem scene. Here, black women modeled homemade dresses while wearing skin-whitening makeup.
The exhibition draws inspiration from Arnold’s own words: “I have been poor and I wanted to document poverty; I had lost a child and I was obsessed with birth; I was interested in politics and I wanted to know how it affected our lives; I am a woman and I wanted to know about women.” Spanning three floors of a picturesque Georgian townhouse in Petworth, the exhibition effectively tells the episodic story of this pioneering photographer. Arnold, the first woman to be accepted into the Magnum photographic agency, ventured from moody social documentary to glamorous travel journalism, with detours into myth-making in Hollywood, Washington DC, and London.
One part of the exhibition showcases a series of images of Marilyn Monroe during the filming of “The Misfits.” These photos wrap around the walls of the first-floor salon, just one floor above the Harlem images. In another section, First Lady pictures taken in 1960 depict Jacqueline Kennedy and her daughter Caroline embodying an idealized version of modern motherhood. Meanwhile, “Lady Bird” Johnson epitomizes the traditional role of a wife, and a subdued Pat Nixon struggles to find her place under the stern gaze of her husband’s portrait. Margaret Thatcher and Queen Elizabeth each have their own dedicated spaces. Thatcher is captured in the act of cementing her legacy, surrounded by busts of herself and Winston Churchill, while a youthful Queen Elizabeth smiles bravely under a large black umbrella, shielding herself from the rain.
The most captivating work lies in Arnold’s early black and white photographs. During this time, she was free from the constraints of glamorous assignments, allowing her journalistic instincts to guide her. In New York, she captured moments such as a child blowing bubblegum while toiling in the potato fields of Long Island, a bartender with a mysterious bruise exuding a Piaf-like sadness, and the first precious minutes of a baby’s life. From the beginning, Arnold understood the power and style inherent in black culture, as seen in her fascination with afro haircuts and Malcolm X during the early 1960s.
Two deeply unsettling photographs depict white fascists blending in with the crowd at a Malcolm X rally in Chicago in 1962, during his advocacy for the Black Muslims. In one photo, three men sit side by side, their faces cut off in such a way that the focus shifts to the color and posture of their hands. One hand, nonchalantly draped beneath a swastika armband, is white. In the center, a pair of black hands are reverently clasped. At the other end, gold-ringed black fingers casually dip into what appears to be a popcorn tub repurposed for collecting donations. This image serves as a chilling reminder of the unlikely alliance between black separatists advocating for leaving the US and white supremacists who wanted them gone.
Arnold’s later color photographs may lack the edginess and spontaneity of her earlier work, but her ability to tell a story still shines through. One noteworthy project involved documenting China as it emerged from the Cultural Revolution. This endeavor took her on a winding journey between Beijing and Mongolia, ultimately earning her the opportunity to showcase her work in her first major solo gallery exhibition in 1980. The photographs showcase female militia members dressed in vibrant silks, a young child sitting in a hair salon with a head full of curlers, acrobats and dancers defying gravity, and a musician and singer in traditional attire serenading the twilight on the Mongolian steppe.
Amidst these picturesque and otherworldly scenes, a photograph of a production line worker at a bottling plant in a striking shade of green offers a powerful juxtaposition. This image echoes Arnold’s earlier signature shot of a woman caught off guard, viewed from behind. Against the uniformity of the green bottles, the worker’s braids form two untidy vertical lines against her white uniform. Her humanity lies in this slight disarray, as otherwise, she appears to be just a cog in the machine. This photograph prompts reflection on the impact of industrialization, not only on women in China but also on factory workers worldwide.
Denial of responsibility! VigourTimes is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
