by Kevin Patrick Maxwell (a.k.a SG Member: AvaruS)
I remember when I was a eight, my twelve year old brother ‘borrowed’ our dad’s 25th Anniversary Playboy (January 1979). When he opened the page, there she was, sprawled out on a red velvet tapestry. Her blue eyes glistened and her figure was simply marvelous –– almost perfect. She had this gorgeous, long, golden hair flowing down her back. Her left hand was poised behind her head covering her left eye, her right hand was down by her legs, which where both were bent at the knees. Needless to say this image was something special, and it ingrained itself in my subconscious. I was too captivated by her image to actually read any of the accompanying text.
I remember finally learning two years later who this woman was. (It would be a few more years before I would notice girls in a romantic or sexual way.) I recall finding out her name on a trip to the library, while perusing through stacks of art and photography books (this was pre-internet)). I came across a few photographs and a picture of a painting by Earl Moran, and I thought the woman depicted looked familiar. As I read the story behind Moran’s success as a pin-up artist in the ‘40s and’50s, I learned that one of his top models was Marilyn Monroe, who, at the time she sat for Moran, was known by her real name, Norma Jeane.
Of course I knew it was the same, amazing woman I’d seen when I was eight years old. I just had this feeling, a gut reaction. I kept reading until I saw it again –– that picture –– that amazingly beautiful photograph. I found out it was taken on May 27th, 1949 in the evening by photographer Tom Kelley at his studio in Los Angeles. She used the name ‘Mona Monroe’ on the model release to protect herself from any flack she may have received as a result. The image was used as a calendar top in 1952 and was titled ‘Golden Dreams.’ Another photograph entitled ‘A New Wrinkle’ was featured on the 1953 calendar top. Again on the red velvet, she was slightly sprawled out on her left side, left arm stretched out and right hand above her forehead, giving a look so intoxicating, so unforgettable.
I spent the better part of my teens learning more and more about her life; the ups and downs, the hopes and dreams of a woman whom spent most of her childhood in and out of foster homes because her mother had bouts of depression and schizophrenia. She never knew her father, since he had abandoned Marilyn’s mother before her birth. I learned about her three failed marriages (the first, to James Dougherty, was one of convenience), her rumored miscarriages in the 1950s, and her struggle with alcohol and drug dependencies. Her run-ins with Twentieth-Century Fox in the ’50s and early ’60s are, even to this day, legendary. Her first leading role in a film was in Ladies of the Chorus in 1948. It bombed at the box office and she was fired post haste.
Of course the saddest thing of all is that she died so young, at the age of 36. I will not get into the debate of how or why she passed, or why such an amazingly strong willed, passionate, beautiful, sexy, and talented actress could lose herself in Hollywood. She influenced so many people: actors, photographers, artists, musicians, directors, producers, and the list goes on. She transformed ideas of female sexuality –– her influence in this regard permeates Hollywood to this day. The more I read about her, the more I realize how important she is to me, and to the rest of the world.
As I developed and learnt to appreciate my talents as an artist and photographer, I realized how much the images of Marilyn had inspired me. Now, at 41 years old, I see what Tom Kelley, Earl Moran, Andre de Dienes, and a host of other photographers saw when they looked at her through their lenses. She was an amazingly beautiful woman who left her mark not only in films, photos and sound recordings, but also in the hearts and minds of her friends, family, and fans throughout the world. As I sit writing this piece, just a few days before the 49th anniversary of her passing (she died on Aug 5, 1962), I see her as more than an iconic actress and pin-up model. I see her as human being whom never turned down a fan’s request for an autograph –– she loved her fans because she knew they were the ones that truly cared. Marilyn gave me my love for the camera, my passion for art, colors, contrasts, and textures, and my love and respect for women and the female form.
It is for this that I am eternally and forever grateful to Marilyn Monroe.
Thank you Norma Jeane.
