logo
#

Latest news with #LeeMiller

UK's largest Lee Miller retrospective to be held at Tate Britain
UK's largest Lee Miller retrospective to be held at Tate Britain

The Guardian

time22-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Guardian

UK's largest Lee Miller retrospective to be held at Tate Britain

The UK's largest retrospective of the American photographer and photojournalist Lee Miller, who produced some of the most renowned images of the modern era, will take place at Tate Britain this autumn. The exhibition will showcase the entirety of Miller's career, from her participation in French surrealism to her fashion and war photography. It will also explore her artistic collaborations and lesser-known sides of her practice, such as her images of the Egyptian landscape in the 1930s. The retrospective will feature about 250 vintage and modern prints, including those never previously displayed, revealing 'Miller's poetic vision and fearless spirit', according to the Tate. Born in 1907 in Poughkeepsie, New York state, Miller was first exposed to a camera by working as a model in the late 1920s, when she was photographed by celebrated figures such as Cecil Beaton and Edward Steichen. This inspired her to pursue photography and she quickly became a leading figure of the avant garde. It was after moving to Paris in 1929 that Miller began working with the visual artist Man Ray, becoming his student, muse and lover. Together they discovered solarisation, a photographic technique in which reversed halo-like effects are created through exposure to light during processing. In the early 1930s, Miller turned her lens to the streets of Paris, creating a series of photographs capturing the surreal in the everyday. Through crops, disorienting angles and reflections, she reimagined familiar Parisian sights ranging from Notre Dame Cathedral to a Guerlain perfume shop window. When she moved to London in 1939 at the outbreak of the second world war, Miller embarked on a new career in photojournalism, becoming the official war photographer for British Vogue and one of the few accredited female war correspondents. The exhibition will showcase her depictions of blitz-torn London, including You will not lunch in Charlotte Street today (1940) and Fire Masks (1941), which capture the pathos and absurdity of the city in wartime. Also on display will be her photographs of women's contributions on the home front, harrowing scenes from the frontline, the liberation of Paris, and the devastation and deprivation of the Buchenwald and Dachau concentration camps. These works will be presented in dialogue with extracts from Miller's first-person essays, which were published in British and American Vogue. The show will include the portraits of Miller and David E Scherman in Hitler's private bath in April 1945, which were staged directly after the pair returned from photographing Dachau, and are considered to be some of the most extraordinary images of the 20th century. Miller posed for the photos with the dried mud of that morning's visit to the camp on her boots deliberately dirtying Hitler's bathroom. Miller's work and life have been depicted numerous times, including in the 2005 musical Six Pictures of Lee Miller and the 2023 film Lee, in which Kate Winslet played Miller. She was also referenced as role model for the war photographer depicted by Kirsten Dunst in the 2024 film Civil War. The exhibition will run from 2 October 2025 to 15 February 2026.

Sussex Modernism review — plotting the future of art from the South Downs
Sussex Modernism review — plotting the future of art from the South Downs

Times

time21-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Times

Sussex Modernism review — plotting the future of art from the South Downs

If you really wanted to skewer an artist in 1914, calling them 'provincial' was pretty effective. The newness-obsessed Vorticists used it as the ultimate insult, declaring London the centre — or vortex — of Britain's artistic universe. This new exhibition at Towner in Eastbourne, which places the first edition of the Vorticist publication BLAST at the start, and proceeds to thumb its nose at it, counters that view to look at artists, mostly between 1910 and 1980, working in or with a relation to Sussex (obvious contenders such as Lee Miller, Edward Burra and Gluck are joined by much lesser-known names, such as Mary Stormont or Damian Le Bas, who worked in a style he called 'gypsy dada') who could also broadly be described as

It's a knockout! Punchy images from Photo London
It's a knockout! Punchy images from Photo London

The Guardian

time14-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Guardian

It's a knockout! Punchy images from Photo London

Photo London marks its 10th anniversary with a special edition celebrating the capital and its rich traditions of photography. Featured at this year's fair is Joseph McKenzie who pioneered the teaching of photography within the UK's art education establishment. His lifetime ambition was to gain acceptance for photography as fine art. McKenzie worked predominantly as a social documentary photographer – 'a man with a conscience' – focused on people in everyday life. Photo London is at Somerset House, London, 15–18 May Photograph: Joseph McKenzie/Mckenzie & Hamilton Gallery This year's Lee Miller Archives booth at Photo London will centre mostly on her war journalism, tying the booth to the movie Lee. Photo London gives collectors the opportunity to buy a piece of history before the major forthcoming exhibition at Tate Britain in October. You can see more in our gallery here Photograph: Lee Miller/Lee Miller Archives Alice Mann's series Drummies depicts the unique and aspirational subculture surrounding all-female teams of drum majorettes. The Elgin Majorettes team is made up of girls from a number of schools around the area. These four girls attend St Michael's Primary. The team's coach is also the headmaster of the school Photograph: Alice Mann Julia Fullerton-Batten is a fine art photographer renowned for her cinematic visual storytelling. Her large-scale projects are based around specific themes, each image embellishing her subject matter in a series of thought-provoking 'stories' using staged tableaux and sophisticated lighting techniques Photograph: Julia Fullerton-Batten Mary McCartney's work is based around creating intimate connections with her sitters – and inviting the viewer to become a participant in the image as well as an observer. You can see more of her work in this gallery of London photographers Photograph: Mary McCartney Bee Gats is a Latino photographer from Miami. He creates gritty, raw and unfiltered portraits of Miami's underground – a world he himself grew up in – often including images of guns and gang violence Photograph: BeeGats/Mortal Machine Fantastical supernatural creatures, intimate portraits of London girlhood and delicate works printed on glass and single leaves make up Sarabande's House of Bandits' first foray into Photo London. This image explores the transition between states of health, illness and wellbeing, using recycled materials related to rest and recovery (pillows, mattresses, duvets) to create tactile shapes that envelop the body Photograph: Paloma Tendero/Sarabande Foundation Margriet Smulders' still lifes, which she started photographing in the 1990s, use mirrors, elaborate glass vases and rich draperies alongside vibrant florals. They often reference Greek myths of love, rivalry, jealousy and bloodshed using abstract imagery Photograph: Margeriet Smulders/Contour Gallery Petite Doll is a current artist in residence at Sarabande, practising across photography, video and digital art. Her work fuses self-portraiture and surrealism by inhabiting different characters, with meticulous attention to detail given to the props and sets she handcrafts herself Photograph: Petite Doll AKA Giulia Grillo/House of Bandits by Sarabande foundation Gabriel Pinto, a young Venezuelan photographer and researcher, focuses on ethnographic research and photography. Pinto's work focuses on celebrating, honouring and preserving African-Venezuelan culture, inspired by his deep connection to his heritage in Barlovento, where 100,000 African people were taken as slaves between the 16th and 19th centuries. They were forced to work as labourers on cocoa haciendas – this history has resulted in strong regional traditions, cuisine and crafts Photograph: Gabriel Pinto/BETA Contemporary Omri Emile Rosengart collected stories over four years for his book. The moments shared are preserved pieces of his continued journey, revealing his thoughts towards each memory presented. There will be a book signing at Photo London Photograph: Omri Emile Rosengart/Bright Gallery Matalon's work deals with desire and power dynamics, fixing a gaze that empowers and provides a rarely seen female photographic viewpoint. Her work has appeared in the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times and the Financial Times among others Photograph: Molly Matalon/Palm Studios Adam Rouhana is a Palestinian-American artist whose photography deconstructs Orientalism within the broader context of Palestine. He questions his position as a Palestinian behind the camera, both as a westerner, having grown up in the US, and as an Arab. He is often inspired by domestic life from his early memories in Palestine Photograph: Adam Rouhana Amar Gallery will present the revolutionary photograms and photographs by Dora Maar, alongside Stephen Shames, the official photographer for the Black Panther party. Both Maar and Shames fought for equality, often using their art to highlight social issues Photograph: Dora Maar/Amar Gallery Amar Gallery's presentation is an example of exhibitors using their space to highlight social issues, in this case forefronting messages of revolution, equality and justice Photograph: Stephen Shames/Amar Gallery Shooting almost exclusively on black and white film and using traditional developing techniques – in this case multiple-exposure silver gelatin prints – in his home studio, Robin Hunter Blake sets out to explore the more tangible processes in image making. He has a pure and poetic approach to process Photograph: Robin Hunter Blake/Guerin Projects These intimate portrayals of daily life in the American south, particularly of childhood experience and joy, are vintage Baldwin Lee works of the 1980s Photograph: Baldwin Lee/David Hill Gallery Klea McKenna demonstrates a return to traditional techniques, and the celebration of the objectivity of a photograph as something to be seen in real life and to be experienced Photograph: Klea McKenna/EUQINOM Bendana-Pinel gallery shows one of Brazil's leading contemporary photographers, Caio Reisewitz, whose work explores the changing relations of city and countryside in light of the climate emergency, both in Brazil and the rest of the world. Brazil is a nation of contradictions, caught between a desire to preserve an exceptionally rich environmental heritage and the will for exponential growth. Reisewitz seeks to capture the image of a fragile beauty, that of an unspoiled nature; an Eden endangered by deforestation, oil exploitation and expansion of settlements Photograph: Caio Reisewitz/Bendana Pinel Art Contemporain Galerie Clémentine de la Féronnière returns to the fair with works by Martin Parr and James Barnor. Photographs by Barnor from his studio in London in the late 60s celebrate his pioneering role in bridging Ghanaian and British cultural identities through photography Photograph: James Barnor/Galerie Clémentine de la Féronnière Early works by Parr offer a glimpse into the development of his keen observational style Photograph: Martin Parr/Galerie Clémentine de la Féronnière

Lee Miller ‘buried' frontline war experiences, archive says ahead of show
Lee Miller ‘buried' frontline war experiences, archive says ahead of show

The Guardian

time14-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Guardian

Lee Miller ‘buried' frontline war experiences, archive says ahead of show

The photographer Lee Miller 'buried' her experiences from the frontline of the second world war, where she captured the liberation of France, according to the team behind unseen images of hers that are being displayed this week. The photographs from Miller's time in St-Malo, France, and various sites in Germany are being shown at the 10th edition of Photo London. They depict the violent confrontations at the end of the conflict but also show more casual images of celebrating US troops. Kerry Negahban, the head of senior rights and publishing at the Lee Miller archive, said the work also contributed to the US photographer's depression after she returned to domestic life in Britain. 'She really buried it, which is what a lot of people did; I think the phrase was 'put up and shut up'. She suffered with PTSD, and was very, very depressed after the war, and then she had a child, and had postnatal depression as well,' said Negahban. 'So I think she was probably as low as someone could be. She didn't really even tell her husband much about what she'd seen and done.' Miller's time from the frontline covering the conflict for Vogue and Life magazine featured in the recent biopic, Lee, which starred Kate Winslet as the uncompromising model turned war photographer. The unseen images show battlements and beach obstacles in France. But there are also quieter moments. In another a pair of boots are shown poking out of a jeep outside the 44th Evacuation hospital in Normandy during 1944. There is a shot of Lt Col Kenneth Wallace of the 1st Battalion of the US army and Col John Heintges, the then commanding officer of the 7th Regiment, posing on the balcony of the Post hotel in Berchtesgaden, Germany, in 1945. A caption that accompanies the image reveals just how close the conflict was. 'The left-hand smoke plume on the mountain behind them is [Adolf] Hitler's house burning; the right-hand smoke plume is a forest fire or something,' Miller wrote. 'At the time the SS were still about.' Miller's presence on the frontline was not always welcomed. The fact she was a woman meant she faced sexism when trying to get embedded with the US troops, and the Americans placed her under house arrest for three days after the liberation of St-Malo because she was not supposed to be taking shots of the battle. 'That's when she wrote her reports [for Vogue],' said Negahban. 'It was actually quite useful.' Negahban added that Miller's 'main mission was to get it out to the general public. This is what's happening; this is how atrocious war is,' which was a message that was initially welcomed in the UK and US, but soon after the war her most brutal images of concentration camps were buried. 'The British press didn't want to put those images in, because it was a victory, and it was felt the public had enough of seeing horrors. Whereas Lee's point was people are still living these horrors, and you should know this … everyone should know this,' said Negahban. Another photographer at this year's event who explores themes of conflict is Jesse Glazzard, who along with Eugenia Skvarska, followed the lives of gay Ukrainian soldiers during the conflict with Russia. Often captured in their homes, the images are intimate and the antithesis of the usual reportage images of the conflict that are taken on frontlines or in the aftermath of a missile strike. 'It felt so important for it to just feel intimate and raw,' said Glazzard. 'I just don't think you see that often, usually it's those New York Times-style images of soldiers and army personnel.' Captured on film and then reproduced as a Riso print to imitate the look of newsprint and punk zines, the pair shot 10 queer soldiers, many of whom were children when Russia invaded Crimea. Skvarska said the men had decided to take part in the project despite facing potential discrimination or reprisals if they were captured by Russian troops. She said: 'One of the main quotes of this project is: 'If I will die, I will die as a gay man,' because they found that it's really important to tell the truth about who they are.' Photo London is at Somerset House in London from 14-18 May

I fear I'm doing friendship wrong: why do we lose the art of just hanging out?
I fear I'm doing friendship wrong: why do we lose the art of just hanging out?

The Guardian

time18-04-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Guardian

I fear I'm doing friendship wrong: why do we lose the art of just hanging out?

There's a black and white image of the photographer and war correspondent Lee Miller and her friend Tanja Ramm. The two are having breakfast in bed at Miller's studio in Paris, casually reading newspapers. Their faces are framed by untamed hair and they're dressed in cotton shirts, with coffee cups in front of them. The image, captured in 1931, is quiet and intimate. They share a blanket, their arms touch. There's no rush, no urgency. It's a scene about love but, above all, it's about friendship. When was the last time I lay in bed with a friend like that? For most of us, it was probably during school or university, when staying over or crashing at someone's house was a regular occurrence – sometimes a necessity, but mostly just part of our routines. It kept us close. Staying in a friend's room or apartment felt like being on an island – safe, cosy and fun. It was about whispering, giggling and sharing secrets. And sometimes it was about nothing at all except being together. As an adult whose usual habitat is a large European city, when I meet friends now, it starts with a text that goes something like: 'Hey, how are you? Would love to see you. Maybe we can grab dinner or drinks?' Then the struggle begins to find a date. It's a messy process, especially in Berlin. Days pass. Sometimes, weeks. Finally, if we are lucky, the day arrives and we meet – at a restaurant or a bar, somewhere public, where we're expected to behave, sit properly and engage in 'polite' chat. We update each other on our projects, gossip a little, sigh, complain about circumstances at home or work and then we part ways. Sometimes, a few hours later, or the next morning, I'll send or receive a message: 'I'd missed you. It was so good to see you. We should do this more often.' An honest message, but an empty one at the same time. Because we won't do it more often. We'll continue rushing through our daily lives and responsibilities, fitting each other in where we can. How close can you really be to someone you only see for a couple of hours every now and then? What can you actually share? In these meetups, we present condensed versions of ourselves. So much of who we really are stays in the dark. We talk. And talking is the only way to feel connected and to bond. It was simpler as kids and teenagers. After school, back in Leipzig, I'd ask a friend, 'Do you want to come over to play?' or I'd just knock on their door. At university in Berlin, we'd spend all day together on campus or meet after class at one of our homes. Getting together was easy. And it wasn't just about talking. It wasn't sitting across from each other, throwing words back and forth. We'd sit on sofas or the bed or on the floor, watch TV, play games, draw, flip through magazines, do sports, or listen to the latest music. We'd try things for the first time – a cigarette, a drug. We'd dream. We'd sometimes be silent together. It was sweet. Do we even know how to just be? To sit beside someone in silence, without needing to entertain or update or explain ourselves? I miss that. Friendship doesn't always need a plot. In her diaries, Brigitte Reimann (1933-1973), one of the icons of East German literature, vividly describes idyllic scenes of friends simply hanging out together. When she was living in Neubrandenburg in her late 30s, one friend – the writer Christa Wolf – would visit spontaneously to check in and just be with her. There was also Juergen Schulz, a young journalist at the local radio station who was 10 years her junior. The two of them would stay up all night listening to jazz records and dancing. I don't think it's a coincidence that the typical toast back then was 'auf die Freundschaft' ('to friendship'). But times have changed. As mature, 21st-century adults, nearly everything has to be scheduled in advance. We meet when we're well composed. If we're not feeling up to it, we cancel. No one knocks on anyone's door spontaneously any more. That would be crazy. Insane, even. We no longer play or fool around. We don't hang out for hours without a plan. Maybe that's also why some friendships just fade away, and others turn weird. One of the quietest heartbreaks of adulthood is realising that a friend has become indifferent, or no longer wants the best for you. The hardest part is knowing when it's time to let go – especially when you've shared years. But friendship can't be based only on memories. It's also about energy. And in trying to hold on to old friendships, we often forget how fragile new connections can be. They happen, but it's rare. It's not often that you meet someone new and think, yes, I want to see you again. I want to spend a whole day doing nothing with you. Mostly, it's coffee once or twice, maybe an invitation to a birthday gathering if we manage to overcome the polite distance. People's diaries are already full – with families, work and the handful of old friends they barely manage to keep. There's just not much room left, not emotionally, not practically. So we stick to the friends we already have, even when the contours of those friendships keep changing. I wonder why I'm thinking about all this now. Perhaps it's because I don't have children or any family structures forcing me into a regulated daily life. I could hang out. I could see friends more often. When the American writer and film-maker Nora Ephron compiled her list of things she would and wouldn't miss at the end of her life, she named her friends twice in the list of things she would. Ephron was also the person who said: 'It's hard when you don't like someone a friend marries. First of all, it means you pretty much have to confine your friendship to lunch, and I hate lunch.' I hate lunch too. There's a clear beginning and a clear end. It's a set scenario and my least favourite meeting opportunity of all because there is no room for surprises: you eat, then go back to work. I believe this downgrading to lunch happens not only when a friend marries someone you don't like, but also when a friend has children. Let's be honest: you lose that friend and mourn them. We're supposed to be adults and handle what life throws at us with generosity, empathy and understanding. But it's hard. And even if you like the person your friend marries, you still have to do lunch because otherwise, you'll never see them again alone. Suddenly, it's always 'dates as couples', where you have to behave even more properly. And there's also this: if you're a woman and your friend is a man, it's very likely that his girlfriend or wife won't love you two spending time alone. I've always found it difficult to imagine long-term, deep friendships between men and women. There is almost always a moment – spoken or unspoken – when one of you wonders: what if? That doesn't mean anything will happen. But the question will hang in the air. And that changes the dynamic, no matter how much we pretend it doesn't. Is that already toxic? We're so good now at identifying red flags, drawing boundaries, spotting 'bad, dangerous vibes'. But are we also too quick to call someone toxic just because they're going through something we can't quite deal with? I've seen friendships fall apart as a result of this and I know it's difficult, but there is beauty in loyalty, when someone still shows up – not for a perfect version of you, but for you just as you are. That's gold. Too often, we confuse support with advice, or think texting back is enough. Real solidarity is quieter. It lives in presence, not performance. OK, I do remember the last time I lounged in bed with a friend – it was two weeks ago. Maybe that was why I started to think about adult friendships again. My close friend of 15 years and I were invited to a literary awards ceremony in Cologne. She lives in Berlin and Rome, which means we don't see each other a lot. The organisers of the awards had booked hotel rooms for us – mine on the fourth floor, hers on the first. At the end of the night, we said goodbye in the lift, then paused for a second. 'Shall I come and sleep in your room?' I asked. 'Yes please,' she replied immediately. I went to my room, put on my pyjamas and waddled through the corridors to her room. We brushed our teeth, made funny faces in the mirror and chatted in bed until our eyes closed. The next morning, we woke up smiling. We had both slept blissfully. I felt safe with her. The room was our island. We stayed in bed talking under the thick, white sheets until I almost missed my train to Berlin. In the afternoon, I received a text from her: 'It was so cosy in bed this morning. This is how life should be.' Yes. Exactly that. Not lunch. Carolin Würfel is a writer, screenwriter and journalist who lives in Berlin and Istanbul. She is the author of Three Women Dreamed of Socialism and a regular contributor to Die Zeit

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store