#40's

[allgarbo]

One afternoon Greta started once or twice to ask a favour, then decided against it: ‘Perhaps another day I’ll mention it.’ I was most intrigued. Then she continued hesitantly: ‘If only you were not such a grand and elegant photographer…’ I finished the sentence for her: ‘Then you’d ask me to take your passport photograph?’ She looked astounded. ‘How did you know?’ Greta had told me she was planning to leave for a holiday in Sweden, and I realized it would have been impossible for her to go to any ordinary passport photographer without the results being displayed far and wide. Knowing her antipathy to publicity of all forms, resulting in her terror of cameras, I had purposely never suggested that she should pose for me. To take pictures of her has always been my greatest ambition, and this opportunity was unique. However, the sitting must be as simple and private as possible, for to have an assistant with lights would be to overload the occasion. The following afternoon a screen was placed near a window, while on the outside door of my apartment a notice was pinned: ‘Passport photographs taken here.’ The sitter arrived wearing a biscuit-coloured suit and polo-collared sweater, her hair a lion’s mane. At first she stood stiffly to attention, facing my Rolleiflex full-face as if it were a firing squad. But, by degrees, she started to assume all sorts of poses and many changes of mood. The artist in her suddenly came into flower. She was enjoying the return to an aspect of the metier that had been her life’s work, and I could only click the trigger in an effort to capture yet another marvellous moment of her inspiration. Could I believe my luck? By degrees I was emboldened enough to ask if she would take off her habitual sweater. Then I brought out some ‘prop’ clothes — a pierrot’s ruff and white pointed cap — that I had secreted just in case… Greta became Dabureau. A man’s top hat was discarded on sight, though a Holbein tam-o’-shanter was approved once it was bashed into a Chinese mandarin’s hat. Every now and again my ever-growing euphoria would be interrupted by Greta’s saying: ‘That’s enough now — got to go.’ But by the time I took her word as ‘gospel’ a vast number of pictures had been made. The results formed a prized collection — though few of them were suitable for passports. When shown the small contacts, the sitter was pleased. She pronounced them ‘strong’ and clean-cut and of a good quality. Together we went shopping for a folding leather frame so that I could have my favourites by me wherever I travelled. She put a pencilled cross on the back of those of which she approved and would allow me to publish in Vogue magazine. When the selection was sent to my good friend, Alexander Liberman, the Art Editor, he could hardly believe his eyes. Here was a precious windfall of a dozen different pictures of someone who for ten years had resolutely refused to be photographed. From the rich hoard Alex chose a laughing head to be used across two pages. Surely this did not do justice to the full range of Greta’s beauty? I cajoled him into publishing a variety of moods and guises. Greta Garbo photographed by Cecil Beaton (1946) The Happy Years: Diaries 1944-48 by Cecil Beaton

[poppingmary]

Hedy Lamarr -1940

[retrovintagevibesblog]

[jourdepluie91]

Taxco, Guerrero, Mexico in 1948 & 1952.

Scanned Vintage Kodachrome slide photography of various location in and around Taxco, Mexico photographed in 1948 & 1952 by an unknown person.

Photos by @theslidesproject

[hollywoodlady]

Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake holding bird on set of the 1942 film noir 'This Gun For Hire'. 

[amatesura]

Birger Carlstedt, Flower Seller (1942)

[doubtfultaste]

House of Frankenstein (1944)

[histonics]

Young women sunbathing on a boat in Cataling Island. Photo by Martha Holmes, 1946

[allgarbo]

Garbo sent her handwritten “proposal” to Noël Coward:

Dear Little Coward, Received your very loved, small and tiny letter. Dear person it almost makes me wish the newspapers in this country was right. I am so dreadfully fond of you, that I wish I could forget you. Can’t think of anything more terrific than to fall in love with you. Eternaly (can’t spell) occupied as you are and in need of absolutely no one and looking forward to splendid lonelyness (?) completely immune to any female charm!! Well, this might be an English lesson anyhow I take the opportunity to ask if you will be my little bride—(it’s Leap Year you know). Don’t accept please, I would have to come and get you right away.

How you must dislike my writing this way—but—that fluttering, tired and sad heart of mine has been in such peculiar state since a few weeks ago, but I don’t suppose I know you well enough to go into that too much.

I have a very humble wish that you would write a story for me (us), if you ever have time from the theatre. I can’t beg you any harder, as you will do as fits you anyhow—naturally. Besides that I would like, horribly I think, to go on dusty roads with you and tell you little fairy tales—beautiful ones about solitary figures living in white castles on top of moonlit mountains (permanent moonlight). And as finish I must tell you that what I really would like to tell you I haven’t told—Darling, you are so “flippantly” serious.

Greta Garbo photographed by Cecil Beaton c. 1946

[poppingmary]

Gorgeous Rita Hayworth

[blueberrymuffin-005]

[oldnewyorklandia]

Jerome Liebling. Knickerbocker Village, NYC, 1949.

[hollywoodlady]

Actresses + Color

Ava Gardner, Veronica Lake, Susan Hayward, Rita Hayworth, Deborah Kerr, Ella Raines, Maureen O'Hara and Linda Darnell.

[amatesura]

Max Beckmann, Der Vampir (1948)

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[stanmahana1971blog]