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The Counterfeit Body: Fashion Photography and the Deceptions
of Femininity, Sexuality, Authenticity and Self in the 1950s, 60s and 70s [Page 15]
Bridging the junction between reality and the world constructed for fashion photography, Bailey brought himself more into the glare of public life and scandal with his relationship with one of the top models of the era, Jean Shrimpton. Through their ‘collaboration’ in both romantic and professional terms, She became “the quintessential face of the period” (Steel 60). Shrimpton, like Bailey, had humble beginnings and her rise to recognition and fame was somewhat miraculous. She fit into the “Single Girl” category, yet by projecting new identities on her body through different poses and gestures, she was capable of assuming a multiplicity of selves. Shrimpton’s versatility in presenting plural and discordant versions of herself as the setting demanded, strongly aided in her success. Her ties to Bailey however, did not exactly set her back either. In time, Shrimpton worked with the most noted photographers of the time, but it was her relationship with David Bailey that first marked her as a true and prominent model. At some level, she, as his first ‘star,’ ‘made’ him or rather legitimated him, assigning the photographer a new role, as star-maker. (Radner 137) This links back oddly, yet tellingly and undeniably to the character of Dick Avery in Funny Face. “The figure of the photographer as star-maker in this period comes not only to have an economic significance but also a highly charged erotic connotation” (Ibid.). Like Avery’s unsubtle, yet somewhat restrained seduction of Jo in Funny Face, Bailey had more than just economics and artistic impetus in mind when working with Shrimpton. Not only was Bailey fixated on creating an intensely sexualized aesthetic, but he was also acutely concerned with expressing a sense of instancy in his photographs. Bailey demanded specific movements and gestures from his models. He had an ideal of presenting a “fluid body,” and models served to actualize his vision. The concept of the caught moment—the interruption, was central to his work. This thoroughly progressive outlook and approach fit into the rapidly transforming era and shunning of the old. “Motion had been a touchstone of modernism (rapidly appropriated in fashion photography throughout the twentieth century)” (Radner 137,8). Additionally, “the emphasis on exaggeratedly angular and anxious permutations of the fluid body was a central component of the look of the time” (Ibid.). Bailey gave movement precedence over the garments, instancy over organization and sexuality over decorum. His photographs seem to be more about gratuitous display and using the body to sell the clothes. Perhaps the occasionally subtle and often not so subtle villianization of Bailey’s persona can be explained or rationalized in part by the cycle of domination by specific elements of the structure, practices and conventions in fashion photography already in place and that remain today. Rodriguez writes how the genre remains dominated by sexually charged images of women. He additionally notes that models remain an exploited and predominantly elite group, who through commercial pressures, have to possess just the right features, physique, good looks and youthful appearance. While the notions of beauty and sexual attractiveness do shift from decade to decade, there are some constants in the most desirable characteristics, most universally, thinness, youth and impeccable bone structure (51). The author acknowledges a pre-set standard. Fashion photographers are only participating in what has been previously established. Bailey is merely acting and creating based on the history laid out before him, only he takes it to a new extreme. Here, Bailey becomes relevant in relation to these shifts as well as addressing the issue of exploitation. Consider Bailey’s disclosure at the height of his success: ‘With Jean (Shrimpton) it’s her waifishness…with Susan (Murray) it’s her sensitiveness sometimes I hate what I am doing to these girls. It turns them from human beings into objects. They come to believe they actually are like I photograph them and it gives me a terrific feeling of power. Power and destruction. (Ibid.) Even the famed bad-boy of fashion photography has misgivings about his art and its powers to transform and overdetermine identity. Through the process of being photographed, the ‘fashioned’ woman becomes a body and a body alone.
Antonioni’s 1966 film, Blowup, signals the abrupt transition in the conception of style and beauty as well as the persona of the fashion photographer. The charming, gentle, and paternalistic Avery becomes a myth, and the shy, reserved model—a vague memory. Instead, the audience is presented with a brash, virile and predatory figure of a fashion photographer and still vulnerable and objectified, yet intensely sexual and sexualized models. There are fewer clothes and more sex. Pounding, pulsating rock music and hard, brassy jazz have replaced the show-tunes about the joys of Paris living. The canned, subdued poses of display have been discarded for writhing and thrashing gestures, anything imitating or intimating sexual movement. Blowup, in every sense, pushes the elements of the “Single Girl” concept to the very limit and propels the true transition into actuality. David Hemmings, as Thomas, is the new, immature yet ‘adult’ substitute for Avery. Based on Bailey, he is presented as a sexual conquistador, using models as personal property to earn his income and satisfy his whims. He is the hot young photographer in his field, with a mod hairdo, a Rolls convertible and desperate young girls aspiring to be models lining up outside his door for a chance to pose and put out for him. Thomas capitalizes on his position of dominance at every possible moment. He is arrogant, abrupt and walks over anyone and everyone to get what he wants. He seems to be in it, (the business of fashion), for the chicks. The audience’s first encounter with Thomas in the studio quickly reveals his nature. The model for the shoot, (played by Verushka), appears first, but only in reflection. Her identity is denied, or at least compromised, by this initial displaced and fragmented representation. Thomas is late, but makes no apology. The model says, “I’ve been waiting nearly an hour.” “Good,” he replies with conceit. After making a sexually loaded comment to her and removing his shoes and most of his shirt, Thomas gets down to business. He assumes a predator-like countenance and posture as he appraises his model. He has no regard for her except as an object to master, exploit and profit from. With filled wineglass in hand, Thomas commences shooting.
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