VA14_Miller vAF

Lee MillerLeft: Portrait of Space, frame 3,1937. Below right: Self-portrait inHeadband, published 1933Eamonn MCCabe,photographer and former picture editorof the GuardianLee Miller was the original superwoman.Beautiful, passionate, clever, greatphotographer, great cook and greatwriter. She was also incredibly brave. AsDon McCullin observed: “To have gonefrom being idolised and loved andturned into a beauty icon… to live in atrench, be shelled and live on tinnedfood with the fear of dying any moment– that shows real credibility andcourage.”I know her best as a wonderfulphotographer with a real sense of styleand wit. Her photograph of Women withFire Masks, taken during the war inLondon in 1941, is one of the mostperfect photographs I have ever seen. Itcombines documentary with fashion,shape, form and humour. Brilliant!And my idea of the perfectphotograph is one Miller took early inher career in 1932 in New York, and she isin it. It is the perfect self-portrait, withher sitting in a chair, brilliantly lit fromone side, dressed in a beautiful gownand a simple headband, but she doeslook thoughtful – did she know thenwhere her life might lead?Whitney Otto,author of How to make an Americanquilt (Ballantine)First, I fell in love with Lee Miller’s face.Before I was familiar with herphotographic work, it was Lee inpictures taken by Man Ray, Steichen,Genthe, Horst, Hoyningen-Huene thatcaught my attention. It was Man Ray’spainting of her lips, floating on canvas.While writers frequently borrow thelives of other people for their novels, it isLee’s physicality that inspires mycharacters. In this way, I “photograph”her with words. Her beauty isextraordinary because it isn’t limited toan elegant image. It’s easy to sense akind of shifting, unknowable aspect justbelow the surface, and so difficult tograsp its nature. Her face seduces anddisturbs.Then, one day, you stumble upon herphotographs, and suddenly it’s mucheasier to understand the allure of herface. It doesn’t matter if the picture is aself-portrait, or portrays other artists. Itcan be the “exploding hand” of a wellto-doParisian opening a glass door, or abroken church in wartime London, or theheartbreak and horror of theconcentration camps. It can be asummer picnic with friends in the Southof France. Or the empty expanse of theEgyptian desert in Portrait of Space(1938), a picture combining feelings ofenclosure and of an infinite landscape.Has there ever been a more succinctvisual statement of a life in flux?It is her Surrealist’s eye; her life thatbegan on an American farm and endedon an English one, and all thathappened in between. It’s the ease withwhich she could be both subject andphotographer, and the unease with thesecond half of her life. All of this isreflected in that gorgeous face, andthat’s why I write about her.56V&A Magazine Winter 2007 www.vam.ac.ukV&A Magazine Winter 2007 57