TESTIMONIALS
F O R E W O R D
Collecting fine art photography is truly one of my greatest passions in life. I’ve dedicated the last thirty years to understanding the medium, refining my eye, and amassing one of the world’s most significant private collections. However, when it comes to portrait photography, I’m something of a contradiction in terms. I worship the instant that the shutter snaps and the sitter’s true persona is revealed. Their characteristics are highlighted for the viewers to see and their personality is immortalized forever within the image. On the other hand, I absolutely cannot stand having my portrait taken. It always forces me to confront my physical self, and I’ve spent years coming to terms with loving that part of who I am.
The one exception I have always made for having my portrait taken is Greg Gorman. Greg possesses the extraordinary ability to completely relax his subject in front of the lens. One of the medium’s greatest attributes yet humbling flaws is the notion that the camera never lies, and that certainly proves true when the subject is uncomfortable in front of the camera. But a master portraitist, like Greg, is able to create an atmosphere where someone’s guard truly comes down. His magical lens is able to peer deep into the soul of his subjects and reveal their inner beauty, their struggles, and their happiness. Greg’s photographic wizardry captures the sitter with penetrating clarity and perfect focus to communicate something beyond the subject itself.
This is why I have chosen Greg to take my portrait multiple times throughout my life. He stages his shoots so organically and lights them so lovingly that he gets to the heart of his subject every time. I can look at any of Greg’s portraits of me and I can recognize exactly where I was emotionally at that particular juncture in my life. He doesn’t rely on a signature style, but through his intensity of interaction with the sitter, he is able to use his technique to explore the souls of his subjects in their present form. As their lives and personalities evolve, so does Greg’s camera. It’s truly a remarkable gift to continuously capture a subject’s emotive presence every time they are in his studio, a gift that not all artists obtain.
When you immerse yourself in the many magnificent photographs in this beautiful book, you will feel the true presence of each sitter and their histories. Greg manages to unlock an alchemic combination of personality and vérité. And that is certainly something worth celebrating in today’s increasingly transient world.
Sir Elton John
Elton John
Pierce Brosnan
Andy Garcia
John Waters
E P I L O G U E
It’s Not About Me? Sure it is, Greg. This whole book is about you and it should be. Because when you take our picture you become us.
You know how insecure people in show business are or why would we ever go into a career that forces us to constantly ask for strangers’ approval?
No matter how famous or attractive your subject is, you see our flaws and go to work to eliminate these supposed deficiencies or exaggerate them into a style. No wonder everyone in the book said “yes” to being photographed by you. They now look like no one has ever really seen them before.
Elton John with a real “pearl necklace.” Robert Redford, handsome but unashamedly hairy. Sissy Spacek against type—looking almost willfully trashy. Who knew Raquel Welch could appear modest? Grace Jones doesn’t seem mannish here—you make us see through her tough exterior and celebrate her feminine softness. And Andy Warhol—he finally looks sexy!
There are a lot of pictures here I’ve never seen. Pee-wee Herman with Milton Berle! Jimmy James as a young ingenue, Roseanne almost unrecognizable before the plastic surgery that we’ve gotten used to,
Eartha Kitt, for once not formidable. Rock Hudson, old but not sick—your welcome revisionist historical touch. Is it just me, or does Bob Hope before your lens look like a pre-Ellen happy lesbian? And God, Michael Jackson as a young non-freaky boy, one that he might have been attracted to himself, if you believe the dirt.
Of course, I’ve worked with some of these stars. Is there a better Cry-Baby picture than this gorgeous tear-stained portrait of Johnny Depp? Traci Lords looking like an editor at the New York Review of Books! Patty Hearst free at last and proud to feel beautiful again. Susan Tyrrell, oddly blonde and maybe sober for the first time in a photograph. Liz Renay—sure her My Face for the World to See, as her book was titled, is now lifted to the skies but you know she likes being a burlesque-science-project and you give her dignity. And Mink Stole, not campy, but captured as the great character actress she is—an underrated Nina Hagen.
I hate having my picture taken. Yeah, yeah, then why do you do it? Because I have to for my job. I collect contemporary photography but I don’t want to be in it. I hope to look good, not “raw” or “exposed” or “brutal.” Greg saves me here. Every couple of years we shoot a whole new set of headshots—vertical, horizontal, close-up, full-figure, and, presto,
I now have the very shots the magazines are looking for, no need for a budget-busting photo shoot with the next “in” photographer who wants you to notice their work, not mine. Greg Gorman gives me control over my look—something vanishing in today’s world of publicity.
If he knows you well, he can be brutal while he’s shooting. “Raise that turkey neck!” he’ll yell to me good-naturedly, “Lift that double chin!” When he shouts, “Your eyes are dead!” he’s only trying to save you from what your paranoia has already hinted at. “Model, you lazy bastard, “model,” he’s basically ordering. His camera can be a magic wand but yougotta give so he can take. “My hairline is receding,” I whined to him once, and even though he didn’t tell me at the time, he just framed up and cut my hair off completely, solving the problem simply. Retouch? That’s your right in show biz, isn’t it? We’re in Hollywood taking pictures, not Kansas City or Baltimore where Greg and I are originally from. We came out here to get away from the truth, not celebrate it. Greg lies with his camera, and it’s an honorable act.
Commercial? You bet! Who doesn’t want to be good-looking enough to be on sale? Greg is an artist because he makes famous people he respects look alluring even if they’re not. Yet, he’s not a snob. I’ve seen him generously take photos of friends or relatives or employees of the stars he shoots, and they end up looking just as glamourous. A portrait he did of my parents when they were visiting one of my movie sets hung in their bedroom until the day they died. They looked exactly as if they were on the cover of People magazine and my whole family loved it.
I don’t want my picture taken when I’m dead, but if I kick the bucket in public when I’m old and don’t leave a good-looking corpse, please call Greg Gorman so he and his camera can get to the scene and upstage the creeps who are trying to take selfies with my corpse. He’ll know I’ll need proper time for “hair and makeup.” What’s the hurry?
I’m deceased, so please Mr. Coroner, give Greg the luxury of lighting me properly before you take me away in a body bag. Then and only then will I be ready for my last photo shoot. With Greg. He’ll make me look alive even when I’m not.