FILM vs DIGITAL: A Conversation Continues

Zodiac - © John Neel


Via Pixiq

Before I get too many people adding prejudiced comments about the pros and cons of digital imaging verses film, I want to emphasize that I am not putting digital down. Nor am I trying to make a point for film. I am a digital photographer as well as a film photographer. This is not a pro or con discussion about film vs. digital.


Rather, I am asking if there is a difference between the kinds of images that used to be taken with film in comparison to what we are seeing with digital from a spiritual point of view. I am not alone in asking the question.

In looking at the offerings of new technology photography, I am finding very few images that have a specific quality that dominates the works of the great film photographers of film technology. Most of what I see today seems sterile, vapid and trite, by comparison. There seems to be something significant that is missing.

Somehow there is a difference that many of my contemporaries as well as myself feel is missing from the current process. I want to find out what that something is.

When we look at the works of great photographers such as Robert Frank, Mary Ellen Mark, André Kertész, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Lee Friedlander, Gary Winogrand, Ansel Adams, Atget or any of hundreds of photographers who have given us amazing images produced with film, there seems to be a magical or mystical presence that is missing from most of what I would call rather trite and unimaginative images being produced by digital means today.

When a photographer really connects with his subject, there is a transformation beyond the obvious, beyond the likeness of the subject. There is a sense of something else, which is somehow conveyed in a surprising or magical manner. A metamorphosis takes place that we as a viewer can see, feel and understand because the subject has been transformed into something bigger and more profound. The subject becomes a metaphor or symbol for deeper consideration. For me this is a necessary step in the creation or capture of a powerful image. It is photography at its finest. There is much more to the image than appearance. A deeper message is formed. Communication and learning takes place. We become bigger and smarter because the image speaks to us in a deeply articulate way.

Yet, I find this quality scarce in the digital images that I have seen of late.

Is this because there is an - difference between the two technologies, which allows the magic to be captured more easily with one medium over the other? Here again, I am not discussing the differences in technique as much as I am in the ability of the photographer to capture the essence of the subject through either process.

Surely, digital allows a more economical workflow in terms of time and effort. But is there a difference in how a moment is captured. Does film allow the capture to be more transcendent? Is there a higher possible spiritual attainment with a film camera than with a digital camera? Does one technology provide a better capability to transport us to a higher level of understanding beyond the mere representation of a subject?

Personally, I believe that there is a major difference and worth an investigation. For many photographers, film seems more genuine as a medium because to them, it has the ability in the right hands to capture something we could refer to as soul. To me, soul is an essential part of a higher form of image making. It makes the difference between a simple rendition of a subject and one that rises beyond the subject. To capture soul means capturing something deeper and much more meaningful.

It may be possible that with digital, we have not yet made the leap to a spiritual connection with our subjects. If so, could it be because we are still in the early phases of digital imaging and that "thing" will become more evident to us as we become better digital photographers? Is the task of digital imaging too easy or possibly too difficult or distracting that we fail to connect with the subject? Do we pay more attention to the camera and the technology of digital rather than the subject itself? Is it possible that we are better able to become “one” with our subjects with a less complicated medium such as film?

I believe that it is a combination of these and perhaps other circumstances that results in a failure to touch the soul of the subject. And I should say here that film alone does not produce the magic. But, there may be a valid reason that the magic is more prevalent with film.

Personally I think that it is a matter of connecting with your subject in a meditative manner. Awareness and anticipation as well as having genuine concern for the subject matter allows for a better opportunity of becoming one with your subject. I believe that this can happen with either media. It just seems to be less prevalent and more difficult to achieve with digital.

I sense a difference.

© John Neel

Is any of this important to you? If not, why not?
How do we get soul into an image? This will be a topic for another post.

RICHARD C. MILLER: A RETROSPECTIVE

James Dean taking a break from "Giant", 1956



Monroe Gallery of Photography is pleased to present a retrospective exhibition of photographs by Richard C. Miller, who passed away at age 98 on October 15, 2010. The exhibition opens on Friday, February 11, with a public reception with members of the Miller family from 5 - 7 PM. The exhibition continues through April 24.

Born in 1912, Richard C. Miller's interest in photography grew from toying with his father's 3 1/4" x 4 1/4" folding roll-film camera. In 1935, Miller showed his photographs to Edward Steichen who praised and encouraged him to work in photography. Beginning in the arly 1940's, he would shoot celebrities for the Saturday Evening Post, Family Circle, Parents, American Weekly, Colliers, Life and Time.

In 1941, Miller made a carbro print of his daughter, Linda, sitting at a table set for a Thanksgiving Day’s meal. He sent the picture to The Saturday Evening Post and it was selected to be on the cover of the November 22, 1941 issue. Miller’s picture was the first photographic cover used by the Post that captures the type of scene from everyday American life made famous by the painter and illustrator, Norman Rockwell. Miller began by photographing his daughter sitting at a table set with only a plate and spoon. He photographed the other elements such as the turkey, the dish of cranberry sauce, the glass of milk, and the candlestick separately. He printed them, cut them down, and then added them into the original composition. This ‘cut and paste’ method allowed him to construct the picture one element at a time, carefully balancing form and colour.

Laurence Olivier, Tony Curtis, Peter Ustinov, Spartacus 1959

From 1955 to 1962, Miller was on retainer at Globe Photos, covering the entertainment industry and more than seventy films. After this stint he returned to freelance and became friends with celebrities such as James Dean. Never one for self-promotion, Miller rarely exhibited his work; the work, he figured, should speak for itself. In the spring of 2009, Richard C. Miller's photographic career was given long overdue recognition with an exhibition at the Getty Museum.

 Betty McWilliams, c. 1940s

In addition to his Hollywood photographs, the exhibition includes a trove of vintage pictures from the 1930s-50s of Los Angeles. When Miller documented the construction of the four-level freeway interchange in mid-20th century downtown Los Angeles, he was overwhelmed by its man-made beauty.

Freeway Construction, 4 Level, 1949

"I saw it and just went out of my mind," he later wrote. "I thought, 'My God, this is how people must have felt when they first saw the cathedrals in Europe."


In 1946, Dick photographed a model: Norma Jeane Dougherty. He would later photograph her as Marilyn Monroe on the set of "Some Like It Hot".

The exhibit also includes a selection of striking portraits including some of his best friends Edward Weston and Brett Weston.

Brett and Edward Weston, Garapata, California, August 3, 1953



Although he was shy, Miller was known for his warmth and eagerness to share his knowledge. A younger generation of photographers have worked to bring Miller recognition. "He was like 007 with a gun over his shoulder," family friend Michael Andrews told The Los Angeles Times in 2010. "The camera went everywhere."
 
 

Nude #3, 1949


PORTFOLIOS

The Westons portfolio contains 19 16x20 signed prints, 6 of which are digital color and 13 are Silver Gelatin Black & Whites.


There are 8 16x20 pages of text, including introduction and notes, a centerfold of 39 images, plus 2 images on the title and colophon pages.
There are 4 15x20 pages of reproductions of original letters, printed on mouldmade rag, comprised of 4 separate letter sets.
There are 19 Interleaves which contain reproductions of 46 groups of letters, postcards, envelopes and notes from Brett Weston, Neil Weston, Merle Armitage, Erica Weston and Richard C. Miller’s notes.



The Norma Jeane portfolio contains 12 17x22 signed prints.

There are 8 17x22 pages of text, including introduction and notes, a centerfold of 35 images, plus 2 images on the title and colophon pages.
There are 12 Interleaves utilizing 17 Richard C. Miller photographic images, plus 4 model releases.

"I had no idea when I was taking these pictures that she would become famous and that the pictures would become valuable. She was just a nice, sweet, attractive girl with outrageous ambitions known at the time as "Nonny".  I just had no idea." In the years that followed, Dick occasionally took picturesof Norma Jeane as she evolved into Marilyn Monroe. Later, when Dick was employed as a freelancer for Globe Photos, he was assigned to shoot photographs on Some Like It Hot. He recalls walking onto the set his first day when Marilyn Monroe was an established movie star, and all of Nonny's dreams had become reality. When she passed him and said, "Hi Dick," he merely stared at her, dumbfounded that she even recalled who he was. He said nothing in return, not knowing which of her names he should use. By then Marilyn Monroe was no longer Nonny or Norma Jeane, the subject of this portfolio. Fame and success had changed her.



Related: Exhibition Preview in The Santa Fean Magazine

                             James Dean Would Be 80 On February 8, 2011

Paris exhibit honors Henri Huet, AP Vietnam War photographer

Associated Press photographer Nick Ut, right, speaks as photographer Christian Simonpietri, left, looks on during a news conference at the Grand Palais CAPE, on the eve of the opening of an exhibition of Vietnam war photographs by Henri Huet, Paris, Monday, Feb. 7, 2011
(AP Photo/Francois Mori) 

By JAMEY KEATEN, © Associated Press 


PARIS – A U.S. Army medic peers through dirty bandages on his own head while caring for a wounded comrade. A helicopter winches up the lifeless body of an American soldier, silhouetted against a bare white sky.

Such images from the Vietnam War feature in a new museum exhibit in Paris focusing on Associated Press photographer Henri Huet, who was killed 40 years ago when a helicopter he was riding in was shot down over Laos.

Co-curated by the AP, "Henri Huet: Vietnam" focuses on about 70 photos that he took during the war. The show starts Tuesday and runs through April 3 at the Maison Europeenne de la Photographie in Paris' Marais district.

Huet, who was half-French and half-Vietnamese, and three foreign photographers died Feb. 10, 1971 when the South Vietnamese helicopter they were on was shot down while they covered a cross-border invasion.

Huet, Larry Burrows of Life magazine, Kent Potter of United Press International, and Keizaburo Shimamoto of Newsweek were on board with U.S.-backed Vietnamese forces, killed in the flash of an anti-aircraft gun. Huet was 43.

The exhibit aims to bring to light the impact of Huet on the public's understanding of Vietnam and as a reference for today's generation of photojournalists — in terms of style, shot selection and emotional impact.

Huet captured the pain, fatigue, frustration, grittiness and a gamut of emotions with his black and white photos that made newspaper and magazine covers worldwide throughout the conflict.

He had "a sense of artistry, because he was a painter, he showed his sense of feeling for the Vietnamese," said former AP reporter Richard Pyle, who served as Saigon bureau chief during the war.

"People in Vietnam won prizes, and won accolades, for their work as photographers and the irony of this was that Henri — who was probably the finest combat photographer of his time, maybe in any war ... never got the attention nor the credit that he deserved," Pyle said.


In days long before satellite transmission, the Internet, digital photos and laptop computers, Huet would trek off for days with the U.S. military, and return with a trove of photos shipped to AP headquarters in New York.

Sometimes, a single picture captured the essence of the war.

"You had one Henri Huet picture on the front page of the New York Times, and that was it — that was the battle of Vietnam," said Horst Faas, a Pulitzer Prize-winning AP photographer who worked with Huet in Vietnam.

"There was mud in there, there was frustration in there, a bit of loneliness in there — all these things that a soldier went through in the circumstances, or a civilian, or anyone else," Faas said.

Faas, Pyle and other colleagues have come to Paris for the exhibit, and remembered Huet's compassion, respect for both Vietnamese civilians and U.S. soldiers, and tendency to stay to himself once the work day was done.

"If I had to pick the three finest people that I ever met in my life ... Henri Huet would be one of those three, maybe even No. 1," said Pyle at a news conference Monday.

via The Associated Press

Iconic Monday: The Story Behind Hansel Mieth's Cranky Monkey


©I Like To Watch
The Blog of Writer and Editor David Schonauer




Mieth called the picture "The monkey on my back."


Last week I focused on the iconic photos of the first chimp in space. This Monday I thought I'd stay with man's ancestors and look at one of my favorite iconic Life magazine pictures—Hansel Mieth's portrait of a runaway rhesus monkey in Puerto Rico.

The image became a Life favorite after it's original publication in 1938. Over the years it's been reprinted in books countless times and sold as a poster. Mieth took many fine pictures for Life, but this is the one she became known for—which is she called the photo "the monkey on my back."

The explanation for its lasting impact? Probably the monkey's expression, which has been variously described as heartbreaking, sullen, and just plain P-Oed. I would go with P-Oed, but for all I know this may be the default expression of rhesus monkeys in repose. Let's agree that the face has left generations of viewers a bit...uneasy.

According to Mieth, a Life writer took one look at the image and said, "That's Henry Luce!" When a mean-looking monkey reminds you of your boss, you know it's trouble. Maybe when we look at Mieth's monkey we all simply see a face we're familiar with.

Mieth at work for Life, 1938

The story behind the picture is interesting, but not nearly as interesting as Mieth herself, and that's really why I wanted to write about her monkey today. Her life's story has been told in documentary called Hansel Mieth: Vagabond Photographer, which aired on PBS in 2003. As the title suggests, she was something of an iconoclast, and she never fit easily into the world of middle-class values embraced, extolled, and (in her case) enforced by Life magazine's editors. But as John Loengard, the legendary former director of photography (and foremost historian) of Life has written, the tale of Mieth's life and career was also a love.

She was born Johanna Mieth in Oppelsbohm, Bermany in 1909, but her father nicknamed her Hansel. At age 15 she left home with her teenage lover, Otto Hagel, began rambling through Europe on a romantic jaunt that wold last nearly 60 years.

"We lived with a goup of teenagers under a bridge over the Danube river," she once told Loengard, who interviewed her for his book Life Photograpers: What They Saw. "I had a guitar, and Otto had a violin. In the 1920s you could get along that way in Austria." Once they stayed in a monastery in Yugoslavia for six weeks, Mieth dressed as a boy in short leather pants. They eventually started making a little money taking pictures and writing short articles for newspapers. When Hilter rose to power, Hagel went to America on a boat carrying canaries. She followed later. Eventually they found themselves in Depression-era California, continuing their photographic work by documenting amigrant farm laborers. Mieth started working for the Works Progress Administration.

"We were idealistic liberals," she told Loengard. "And what happens to liberals? Nothing. They lose their shirt."

In 1936, David Hulburd, the head of the Time Inc. office in San Francisco, asked Mieth if she wanted to work for Henry Luce, who was not an idealistic liberal, as a Life stringer. She shot a story on a sheep farm in Red Bluff, California, and one of her pictures made the magazine's cover. In 1937 they offered her a staff job. "I must have been a little hungry or something, because I said OK," she told Loengard. She bcame the magazine's second female staff photographer, the first being Margaret Bourke-White, whom Mieth befriended when she moved (with Hagel) to New York. "Once she admired a black velvet dress with red heart buttons that I was wearing," she recalled. "She came back a little later and handed me a package and said we should be friends together. When I unwrapped it, I found a nice red compact in a heart shape made of good leather, just like the buttons I had on my dress."

Otto Hagel and Hansel Mieth (undated)

Hagel became a well known photographer in his own right. He and Mieth were, as she put it later, happily "living in sin" when Life editors, who felt they needed to protect the magazine's image, started looking at them with expressions somewhat like that of her rhesus monkey. To appease the editors, Mieth and Hagel applied for a marriage license. While they were waiting for it, Robert Capa appeared at the magazine's office saying his visa had been cancelled. He had to leave the country...or marry an American citizen. He had a girl willing to do him the favor, and they all got married at the same time in a quickie ceremony.

In 1941, said Mieth, "life in New York was a little too—if not hectic, at least it didn't make a great deal of sense." Mieth and Hagel moved back to California. It was Mieth's idea, and Hagel said, "Where you go, I go." She continued working for Life, while he shot for other magazines. FDR was an admirer of Hagel's documentary work. Once, when Hagel was in Cuba on assignment, Mieth's phone rang. "It was Steve Early, Roosevelt's press secretary. He said the president wants to speak to Otto. I said Otto is not here....Five minutes later, the phone rang again, and it was Roosevelt himself, and he said, 'I want to speak to my boy.'"

"Your boy's not here," Mieth told the president.

In the 1950s, Mieth and Hagel refused to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee; that helped bring an end to Mieth's prickly relationship with Life. They had a ranch in Santa Rosa, California, where they raised livestock. Hagel died in 1973. Mieth died in 1998.

It was back in 1938 that she went to Puerto Rico to shoot a Life story on a Harvard Medical School project to study freed rhesus monkeys. One day, a boy came running up to her and said that a monkey had gotten away and was in the water nearby. Mieth pursued the animal. "I came down, and that monkey was really going hell-bent for something," Mieth recalled. "I said, 'I better go in and get him,' [and] I threw my Rolleiflex on my back and swam out." The monkey, standing on a corral reef, looked at her. "I don't think he liked me, but he sat on that corral reef there, and I took about a dozen shots," she told Loengard.

Mieth took plenty of pictures on the assignment, but the magazine ran only the one that looked like Henry Luce. Loengard asked Mieth if she thought the monkey looked like Luce, and she replied thoughtfully, "I didn't see Luce that much. He had lots of other things to do rather than talk with photographers. The photographers were a low group of animals then. But I suppose it does in a way. It all depends on what kind of mood you are in. To me it looks like the monkey's depicting the state of the world at the time."

--David Schonauer


Related: Women Who Shot The 20th Century

THE CENTENNIAL OF RONALD REAGAN

Ida Wyman: Ronad Reagan, "Bedtime for Bonzo", 1951

Neil Leifer: Ronald and Nancy Reagan. Inauguration Day, 1981

The Ronald Reagan Presidential Library

HAPPY BIRTHDAY: JAMES DEAN WOULD BE 80 ON FEBRUARY 8, 2011

Richard C. Miller: James Dean during the making of "Giant"

James Byron Dean (February 8, 1931 – September 30, 1955)

"I, James Byron Dean, was born February 8, 1931, Marion, Indiana. My parents, Winton Dean and Mildred Dean, formerly Mildred Wilson, and myself existed in the state of Indiana until I was six years of age. Dad's work with the government caused a change, so Dad as a dental mechanic was transferred to California. There we lived, until the fourth year. Mom became ill and passed out of my life at the age of nine. I never knew the reason for Mom's death, in fact it still preys on my mind. I had always lived such a talented life. I studied violin, played in concerts, tap-danced on theatre stages but most of all I like art, to mold and create things with my hands. I came back to Indiana to live with my uncle. I lost the dancing and violin, but not the art. I think my life will be devoted to art and dramatics. And there are so many different fields of art it would be hard to foul-up, and if I did, there are so many different things to do -- farm, sports, science, geology, coaching, teaching music. I got it and I know if I better myself that there will be no match. A fellow must have confidence. When living in California my young eyes experienced many things. It was also my luck to make three visiting trips to Indiana, going and coming a different route each time. I have been in almost every state west of Indiana. I remember all. My hobby, or what I do in my spare time, is motorcycle. I know a lot about them mechanically and I love to ride. I have been in a few races and have done well. I own a small cycle myself. When I'm not doing that, I'm usually engaged in athletics, the heartbeat of every American boy. As one strives to make a goal in a game, there should be a goal in this crazy world for all of us. I hope I know where mine is, anyway, I'm after it. I don't mind telling you, Mr. Dubois, this is the hardest subject to write about considering the information one knows of himself, I ever attempted."


"My Case Study" to Roland Dubois,
Fairmount High School Principal, 1948

Richard C. Miller



James Dean had one of the most spectacularly brief careers of any screen star. In just more than a year, and in only three films, Dean became a widely admired screen personality, a personification of the restless American youth of the mid-50's, and an embodiment of the title of one of his film "Rebel Without A Cause." En route to compete in a race in Salinas, James Dean was killed in a highway accident on September 30, 1955. James Dean was nominated for two Academy Awards, for his performances in "East of Eden" and "Giant." Although he only made three films, they were made in just over one year's time. Joe Hyams, in the James Dean biography "Little Boy Lost," sums up his career:


--"..There is no simple explanation for why he has come to mean so much to so many people today. Perhaps it is because, in his acting, he had the intuitive talent for expressing the hopes and fears that are a part of all young people... In some movie magic way, he managed to dramatize brilliantly the questions every young person in every generation must resolve."

Richard C. Miller

Richard C. Miller

Richard C. Miller

Text Source: The Official Site of James Dean

All photographs ©  Richard C. Miller Trust

BORN FEBRURAY 6, 1895: BABE RUTH

The Babe Bows Out, Yankee Stadium, June 13, 1948 © 2004 Nat Fein Estate

 
George Herman Ruth Jr. was born on February 6, 1895 in Baltimore, Maryland to parents George Sr. and Kate. George Jr. was one of eight children, although only he and his sister Mamie survived. George Jr.’s parents worked long hours, leaving little time to watch over him and his sister. The lack of parental guidance allowed George Jr. to become a bit unruly, often skipping school and causing trouble in the neighborhood. When George Jr. turned 7 years old, his parents realized he needed a stricter environment and therefore sent him to the St. Mary’s Industrial School for Boys, a school run by Catholic monks from an order of the Xaverian Brothers. St. Mary’s provided a strict and regimented environment that helped shape George Jr.’s future. Not only did George Jr. learn vocational skills, but he developed a passion and love for the game of baseball.
 
 

Ralph Morse: Babe Ruth in uniform at Yankee Stadium, 1948

Irving Haberman: Babe Ruth signing autographs for adoring fans, New York

Ralph Morse: Baseball great Babe Ruth, in uniform, addressing crowd and press during final appearance at Yankee Stadium (shortly before death). This rare color image of Babe Ruth leaning on his bat for his final appearance at Yankee Stadium on June 13, 1948

Read more from  BabeRuth.com, the official website of Babe Ruth.

Exhibition Reframes Works From Depression-Era WPA

By Kathaleen Roberts

Albuquerque Journal Staff Writer

The public art created with federal support during the Depression anchored the New Mexico Museum of Art's permanent collection in an innovation that would become iconic.

Opening Friday, "Conserving Public Art: The New Deal Artwork of Gene Kloss and B.J.O. Nordfeldt" presents the prints of two of the state's renowned artists, many newly re-matted and framed for protection. The conservation work was funded by the WPA Federal Art Project.

Although technically still owned by the federal government, the prints fall under the museum's responsibility for their care and conservation.

"A lot of them had never been matted," curator Joe Traugott said. "When the artist (brought) in the material, a lot of them ... came between two pieces of corrugated board."

Others had been sandwiched between high-acid materials. The acid in the wood pulp fibers can scorch the artwork.

The exhibit includes an image of the chapel at Rancho de Chimayó that is instantly recognizable as one of Kloss' signature prints.

"It's probably her best work," Traugott said. "It's just an incredibly powerful work in black and white that's so iconic of work in New Mexico that it just draws people in."

Kloss first visited New Mexico in the 1920s with her husband, Phillip. They summered here regularly until moving to Taos permanently in 1929.

Kloss became a drypoint printmaker of uniquely New Mexican compositions, particularly of religious scenes. Her prints offer dramatic contrasts of light and dark passages and rising diagonal lines, often referencing winter rituals from northern New Mexico. These prints were first displayed in post offices, libraries and schools.

The Nordfeldt prints depict vignettes of classic local New Mexico village scenes from the 1930s.

Nordfeldt "has an incredible reputation built on pieces he did here in New Mexico in the late teens through the early '20s," Traugott said. "They were heavily influenced by Paul Cezanne's work in France."

Nordfeldt's New Mexico works form some of the most pivotal woodcuts made during the 20th century, Traugott added.

"Kloss' reputation is of course more local than national," he continued. But the artist's work has risen astronomically in price.

Like Gustave Baumann and Raymond Jonson, Nordfeldt came here from Chicago during the late teens. His classic painting "Antelope Dance," from 1929, is on display in "How the West Is One" exhibition on the museum's first floor. Nordfeldt's lithographs from the 1930s are less known, reflecting the world-weariness of the Depression, when jobs were as scarce as tourists.

Conserving Public Art:The New Deal Artwork of Gene Kloss and B.J.O. Nordfeldt



Public art produced with federal support during the Great Depression represents an important component of the museum’s collection. The federal government still owns these works, but the museum is responsible for their care and conservation. Unfortunately, many were not matted, or had been improperly matted in the 1930s. Recently a grant from the NM Chapter of the National New Deal Preservation Association enabled these works by Gene Kloss and B.J.O. Nordfeldt to be matted properly for protection and preservation. These works demonstrate the museum’s commitment to conservation and best museum practices.

For more information, check the website:  http://www.nmartmuseum.org/site/explore/current/conserving-public-art.html

Twin opening with Cloudscapes: Photographs from the Collection Friday, Feb 4, with a reception hosted by the Women’s Board of the Museum of New Mexico from 5:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. Admission is free.

FARRAH FAWCETT'S ICONIC RED SWIMSUIT DONATED TO THE SMITHSONIAN

Bruce McBroom

Farrah Fawcett's Red Swimsuit Going to Smithsonian
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

Published: February 2, 2011

WASHINGTON (AP) — The red swimsuit that helped make Charlie's Angels actress Farrah Fawcett an icon is going to the Smithsonian in Washington.

Fawcett's longtime companion Ryan O'Neal will donate the swimsuit and other items to the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History on Wednesday. A 1976 poster of Fawcett in the dampened red swimsuit sold millions of copies.

Also going to the Smithsonian are Fawcett's copies of scripts for the first season of Charlie's Angels and a 1977 Farrah Fawcett doll.

The items will be part of the museum's popular culture history collection.

Fawcett died in 2009 at the age of 62 after battling cancer.

ABOUT THE MAKING OF THE ICONIC PHOTOGRAPH

The image was released in 1977 as a poster, the same year as when she played Jill Munroe on the TV show Charlie's Angels. It went on to sell a record 12 million copies making it one of the most famous pin-ups ever.


Mike and Ted Trikilis dropped out of Kent State in 1967 to open an art gallery that sold posters. A shipment of anti-war posters soon became their number one bread winner and so they sold the store and became the Pro Arts Inc. They struggled for a few years but then a poster of the Fonz sold more than a quarter-million copies which bumped Pro Arts in the big leagues.

In April of 1976 Ted was working on his farm with the neighbor's son Pat Partridge when Pat wondered  if Pro Arts would make a poster of Farrah Fawcett. He admitted that he and his friends had been buying women's magazines just to get pictures of her from the Wella Balsam shampoo ads. Ted had never heard of Farrah but knew that if students were using ads of her then a poster would be a big seller. He soon got in touch with Fawcett's agent Rick Hersh and tried to get a deal. After Ted finished talking Hersh was puzzled and asked, "What type of product is Farrah to be selling on the poster?" "We want to sell Farrah on the Farrah poster," Ted explained.

Hersh passed the idea on to Farrah who thought it was "cute" and said she had a photographer she like to work with.

When the photo was taken Farrah Fawcett was still an unknown actress wanting to make it big. She hadn't yet signed on for her hit show Charlie's Angels but got some work doing commercials. Bruce McBroom was a freelance photographer who had worked with Farrah before and so Pro Arts agreed to hire him for the shoot. They wanted a bikini shot of the blond beauty.

The shoot was at Farrah's Bel Air, Calif., home of her and then-husband, actor Lee Majors. She did her own hair and they took the photos behind the home by their pool. She modelled several different swimsuits but McBroom didn't get excited about any of the pictures he shot. When she came down in the now famous red one piece swimsuit to cover a childhood scar on her stomach McBroom knew he had something. For the backdrop McBroom grabbed the old Indian Blanket covering his car seat and hung it up, "I should have told people I styled this," McBroom says, "but the truth is it came off the front seat of my '37 Chevy."

©Bruce McBroom/MPTV

He took a number of shots, using his Nikon, including a sultry Farrah eating a cookie but Farrah chose the final frame that would make her one of the most famous people of the 70's. In the early summer of '76 McBroom sent a package of 25 shots of Farrah indicating which one Farrah wanted to use.

©Bruce McBroom/MPTV

"I've since heard that when the guy in Cleveland got the pictures, he went, "First of all, where's the bikini?" He told me he wasn't ever gonna pay me, because he hated the pictures. But I guess he showed them around to people in his business and they changed his mind. It was Farrah's pose, Farrah's suit, Farrah's idea. She picked that shot. She made a lot of money for him and for herself, and made me semifamous."
--Bruce McBroom

McBroom was paid $1000 for the assignment but is happy to be associated with such a cultural icon. In 2006 on the 30th anniversary of the image, Fawcett, said "I was a little self-conscious [of the image], probably because my smile is so big, but it always more 'me' than any other photograph out there."

Bruce McBroom went on to work as the still photographer on over 65 movies, including "The Godfather Part Two, The Hunt for Red October, ET, City Slickers, Ghost Busters, Sleepless in Seattle, and many more. He now lives near Santa Fe, New Mexico, and his photographs can be seen at Monroe Gallery of Photography.


Related: "Bruce McBroom Remember The Iconic Poster Shoot" interview from Entertainment Weekly

Time Magazine: Fawcett Photographer Recalls an Iconic Shoot


Source: Famous Pictures: The Magazine

American Modern: Abbott, Evans, Bourke-White

THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO
February 5–May 15, 2011


Galleries 1–4

Overview: In the 1930s, photographers pushed the genre of documentary photography to the forefront of public culture in the United States and onto the walls of newly opened museums and art galleries. That historic development receives new insight with this exhibition focusing exclusively on the work of American photographers Berenice Abbott, Walker Evans, and Margaret Bourke-White.

 

 Walker Evans. Posed Portraits, New York, 1932. The Art Institute of Chicago, Gift of Mrs. James Ward Thorne. © Walker Evans Archive, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.



Photographic activity flourished in America in the 1930s during the Great Depression, and the genre of documentary emerged as a mode of understanding contemporary events. While the world was in a turbulent state—national and international economies were being severely tested, political systems were in flux, and Europe was preparing again for war—Americans recognized their own viable cultural heritage and sought to record and expand that heritage. Indeed, the country’s literary, artistic, and architectural traditions were fortified in the period’s explosion of popular literature, the founding of new art museums, and the establishment of New Deal government-funded arts programs.

At the same time, advances in technology, production, and distribution transformed mass media in this country: Americans enjoyed weekly picture magazines, radio broadcasts, and popular movies in unprecedented numbers. Photography played an especially critical role in contemporary culture, appearing in books, newspapers, and magazines as well as being accorded exhibitions in art museums and galleries. Photographs crossed the boundaries between public and private use, impersonal documentation and expressive creation, and popular visual culture and fine art.

American Modern examines the practice of documentary photography through the work of three of the most important photographers of the decade, each of whom contributed a fundamental, independent, and novel idea about documentary to the common pool of artistic practice. For Abbott, it was the notion that photography was a means of critical dialogue and communication. Evans thoroughly investigated the idea that photography has a unique and essential relationship to time. And Bourke-White’s documentary practice fused the logic and pageantry of modern industry with the drama and individual narratives of its subjects.

Catalogue: A lavishly illustrated catalogue accompanies the exhibition.

Sponsor:

This exhibition is co-organized by the Amon Carter Museum of American Art in Fort Worth, Texas, and the Colby College Museum of Art in Waterville, Maine.

The exhibition and accompanying publication have been made possible in part by the National Endowment for the Arts, the Mr. and Mrs. Raymond J. Horowitz Foundation for the Arts, and the Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation.

Support for the Chicago presentation of this exhibition is generously provided in part by the Terra Foundation for American Art.

Generous support is provided by members of the Exhibitions Trust: Kenneth and Anne Griffin, Thomas and Margot Pritzker, the Earl and Brenda Shapiro Foundation, Donna and Howard Stone, Mr. and Mrs. Paul Sullivan, and an anonymous donor