When asked once about the material that drove his career, Mike Nichols responded: “I think maybe my subject is the relationship between men and women, centered around a bed.”
“I can remember the first time that I saw James Dean. I was driving on the Warner Bros. lot and saw this tousled-haired kid sitting on the ground, outside the sound stage. It was unusual, as one never saw anyone sitting on the lot like that. Later, my agent said while I was working there, to go over and take a few pictures on the set of a little film called Rebel Without a Cause. He mentioned there was a new actor from Broadway playing opposite Natalie Wood, and it might be good to have a few shots of him.
This was the kid sitting in the sun. No one could have guessed then that this ‘little film’ would make him such a legend, or how tragically soon his life would be snuffed out.”
“I loved James Mason’s accent (a rather plummy Anglo-Irish) and after working with him all day, I could imitate it. When I got home, I would annoy my mother over dinner with my Mason imitation.”
We are very pleased to announce a new Bob Willoughby retrospective at Beetles + Huxley Gallery in London. The show runs September 16th – October 4th, 2014.
We are pleased to announce a new hardcover edition of the gorgeous book Audrey Hepburn by Bob Willoughby: Photographs 1953-1966 by TASCHEN, due out in September 2014.
“With one of Hollywood’s greatest studio photographers behind the camera—and its most beautiful actress in front of it—Bob Willoughby’s picture-perfect Audrey Hepburn book is a real collector’s item.”
— Sunday Express, London
“The sound that Gerry Mulligan produced in the early ’50s, with the quintet that featured Chet Baker, is well known now, but you can imagine hearing it for the first time back then. The music had humor and drive, and made me smile whenever I heard it. I was so excited that I contacted Harper’s Bazaar to photograph a recording session in Los Angeles for them.
It was really a treat to be there. Gerry was in complete control. He knew exactly what he wanted; he heard his arrangements in his head. He sat at the piano, playing out chords for his sidemen, stopping them midstream when it didn’t please him. Mulligan’s resonating baritone sax rumbled like rude words said in Italian, something a little like his own temperament.
I once saw the group perform at The Haig in Los Angeles. If the patrons were not paying attention, as was the case the night I was there, he simply stopped the music, stood with his big hands folded over the sax, and waited. Saying nothing, just standing there. When the noisy ones noticed that the music had stopped, they knew why, for he was looking right at them. Then he would resume, having gotten their attention.”
“I found some massive war-surplus aerial photography scrapbooks with black pages. When I brought my magazines home, I tore out my favorite images and pasted them into the book in sections; as portraits, fashion, advertisements and so on. I kept another of these huge books for painting and sculpture. When I found a new photograph that I liked better than a previous one… out it would go. In this way, I constantly kept editing and (I hoped at the time) improving my eye.
Three photographers seemed to be selected more often than any others–Henri Cartier-Bresson, W. Eugene Smith and Irving Penn–quite a diversity of style, and I learned from each of them. Cartier-Bresson has an amazing eye for composition, and his use of space is unique. Edgar Degas, the painter, had influenced my composition, by the unique way he placed the weight of the images on his canvas. I find Cartier-Bresson’s photographic images have this same tension.
W. Eugene Smith touched me emotionally where Cartier-Bresson did not. Smith obviously felt things very deeply, and sought the human element in his images. The things that Smith did for Life have still, to my mind, never been topped by any photojournalist. I only crossed paths with him once, when I watched him photographing Charlie Chaplin for Life, on Limelight. Life had the exclusive, so I was not allowed to take pictures on the set, but I sat in the audience and watched Chaplin and Buster Keaton work out a comedy routine with a piano, and it was a memorable occasion.
Irving Penn has a wonderful style all to himself, and he taught me the value of seeing the figure as sculpture. He refined his elements down, in elegant style. I think he is also unique in what he did. His color still lifes and the photographic series he made of the Peruvian natives in the old portrait studio he found there are superb.
It is interesting to me that Penn and Cartier-Bresson were both painters, and it was only late in my life that I discovered that Degas was also a photographer! Not that these disciplines are interchangeable, but they continue to influence each other, and I have certainly learned from both in the design and composition of my own work.”
“Glamour magazine had assigned me to photograph Barbra Streisand, who was not well-known then, but the magazines felt she was ‘hot,’ as they say. I kept getting the runaround from her, and finally telephoned her in Lake Tahoe where she was performing. I told her, ‘Look Barbra, I’m probably just as good a photographer as you are a singer, so let’s get real!’ She seemed to respond to that, and asked me where I wanted to photograph her when she came to L.A. I said, ‘Any place except in front of a microphone.’
She made a date for the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and I went over on my lunch hour from My Fair Lady. She was late, but finally came out with a ‘beehive’ hairdo, and a strange young man, whom I later discovered was her husband, Elliott Gould.
She was very cooperative, and I made her look like an Arab Princess with towels, since the cabanas at the hotel pool looked like Middle Eastern tents. We had a good time, and when she was asked by Look magazine to be photographed with her new baby years later, she told them she wanted me. By then she was a big star, so Look brought a West Coast photographer back to New York, which was a first for me.”
“When William S. Burroughs and I were introduced, we were in a completely different apartment, and I felt something wasn’t right. I said, ‘This isn’t your place, is it?’ He looked closely at me for a minute, and confessed it was his friend’s, and that his apartment was too messy. I told him, ‘This place doesn’t reflect you,’ and that seemed to click with him. He took us downstairs to his place, with his newly washed socks on a makeshift clothesline.”
“It was a thrill for me to photograph Humphrey Bogart. Columbia Studios had invited a group of photographers to the set of The Caine Mutiny when they were doing the storm at sea sequence, with tons of water splashing down on the set. I didn’t know the story, and when they broke, I stopped to ask the director Eddie Dmytryk to fill me in on what the action was that they were filming.
Bogart was talking to Eddie, and told me that I should have read the book, instead of ‘bothering our busy director!’ He then proceeded to tell me the story, much to the amusement of Dmytryk. It was great just to hear his famous voice directed to me. I knew he had not been serious in his reprimand, but to make sure I knew it, he kindly put his arm around my shoulder and walked me back to where they were filming.”