She was raped at the age of 7,
spotted by Conde Nast and became a top fashion model in the USA in her early
twenties, moved to Paris where she mixed with the Surrealists (she was Man
Ray’s muse and partner and was painted by Picasso), became a fashion and then a
war photographer, posed in Hitler’s bathtub on the day he died, witnessed the
horrors of German death camps and the wreckage of Eastern Europe in the
immediate aftermath of war, became an alcoholic, suffered from depression and
then re-invented herself as an early “celebrity chef”, becoming one of the
first people to use microwave ovens for cooking. It can fairly be said that Lee
Miller (1907-1977) did not lead a normal existence – indeed, her life screams
out for a Hollywood biopic and at the time of writing (November 2015) I hear
that one is in the offing, with Kate Winslet in the leading role.
What made Lee Miller’s life so
special and why am I writing this review? To answer the first question one
needs to look at her self-portraits (for example Image 1). She was very
beautiful and, with a rich although damaged background and a feisty yet
humorous personality she was always going to “make waves”. Her move to Paris
and subsequent liaison with the Surrealists in the exciting inter-war period
provided her with excellent contacts and her work with Man Ray provided the
opportunity to train for a life behind, as opposed to in front of the lens. She
had talent and ambition and, as a consequence of her moving to England to be
with her lover and ultimately husband, the Surrealist painter Roland Penrose,
together with the outbreak of World War two, she also had the opportunity to
forge a career, firstly as a fashion photographer and later as a war
photographer. It is her photographs, many depicting women in uniform during the
war, which I came to see.
Image 1: Lee Miller - Self-portrait (c 1932)
Whilst the exhibition covers Lee
Miller’s life in some detail until shortly after the Second World War it
concentrates on her photographic contribution during the war years and, in
particular, her photographs of women and their roles in the armed forces,
whilst the men were away fighting. Whilst this is perfectly understandable for
an exhibition at the Imperial War Museum it is curated in such a way that we
are being enlightened about the subjects in front of the lens, rather than the
photographer. There is little said about her technique or artistry. The
composition of the images is rarely commented upon and we learn little about
her methods (including the occasional use of “solarisation”, a technique that
she learned whilst working with Man Ray), cameras, printing and developing.
However, we are given plenty of fascinating biographical information about Lee
Miller the person as we move through the exhibition.
The prints show Miller to be a
highly competent and occasionally inspired photographer of people, ranging from
fashion models to the ordinary women involved in the war effort. She also had a
great eye for the surreal and found humour in many places – this is
particularly noticeable in the book “Grim Glory Under Fire”, a photo book in
which, for example, a jagged hole in a pane of glass is compared to the shape
of “Mr Therm”, a fictitious character in an advertising campaign. Her
photographs of female workers, apparently un-posed but likely posed, usually
seem to consist of groups of four and work well as a composition.
Tiring of her role on the “home
front”, Miller wanted to see war action. Taking inspiration from the American
war photographer Margaret Bourke-White she pushed hard to become a war photo-journalist.
Despite many setbacks on account of her gender she landed in Normandy in July
1944 and, although never at the front line, she photographed and wrote about
the liberation of Europe and its aftermath during the following 18 months. It
was during this time that her photographs appeared to reach new creative
heights, whether it was photographing the horrors of Buchenwald and Dachau,
recording the retribution in France against perceived collaborators, looting
Hitler’s home on the day that he died or photographing the material and human
wreckage in countries, such as Austria and Hungary, that had been Germany’s
allies. One of many poignant and powerful images taken during this period shows
the opera singer Irmgard Seefried singing an aria from “Madame Butterfly” in
the ruins of the Vienna Opera House (Image 2).
Image 2 (Lee Miller: 1945)
It is likely that her experience
of the horrors of war and its aftermath led to the alcoholism and depression,
but we can’t be sure. After the near break-up of her marriage to Penrose she
gave birth to their son in 1948 and lived in relative obscurity for the rest of
her life, her photographic career over. She apparently never talked about the
war. I am left with far more questions than answers: would she have become a
professional photographer if we hadn’t gone to war? If so, would she have stuck
to fashion photography or broadened her interests? Might she have become
fashion editor of Vogue, the magazine that she worked for through most of the
war years? Might she have become a Surrealist photographer, like Dora Maar? Lee
Miller leaves behind a huge legacy and I can’t wait for that biopic to appear!
I spent nearly two hours in the
exhibition and thoroughly enjoyed it. I learnt little that would be of direct
use for my project work but learnt a lot about Lee Miller and about how
photojournalism in extreme conditions can both inspire and destroy.
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