idolising the image
Every day, we circulate in
the same spaces as our friends, families, acquaintances, colleagues, peers and
strangers, conversing under the same roof, passing each other without a
second glance in the streets, dawdling in the aisles of the same shops, people
watching in the same parks, etc.
But sometimes, we meet or
pass an individual who leaps out above the rest, whether it’s a talent they
possess, how their noticeable presence silently captivates the room, their
striking appearance that forces you to take a second glance in the street, or just
the way in which people gravitate towards them and their words hold such
gravitas that people cling to with anticipation. What is that alluring intangible
quality they have that you can’t quite put your finger on?
Without realising, we create
social hierarchies in our psyche, whether it’s based on our relationship with
those people and their significance in relation to our own lives, or perhaps to
the extent of which we wish to emulate the way in which they conduct their
lives, because of how we perceive them to be. We attach relevance to names of people we associate ourselves with or wish to be associated with, or recognise
in the world of fame who we choose to acknowledge and follow in the media. Whether
we’re talking about celebrities or the ‘popular’ figures from school,
university, work etc, whatever your setting, have you ever wondered what makes
certain people rise above the others to a certain level of interest? Why are
certain people talked about more than others? On a larger scale, what is it
that causes people to become iconic?
These questions have particularly come to my attention following my recent visits to the
National Portrait Gallery, where I enjoyed two temporary exhibitions about
iconic figures.
The first visit was to
purchase my ticket for the Audrey Hepburn
‘Portraits of an Icon’ exhibition, and I thought I would make the most of
my visit by exploring Simon Schama’s ‘Face
of Britain’ exhibition in the meantime. What I loved about Schama’s
exhibition was the distinction made between defining celebrity status and fame,
the latter of which has to be someone who adds to our national story. Schama had divided his selected pieces into the
following five themes of British figures through time: Power, Love, Fame, Self
and People. Across the exhibition, there were three key figures who captured my
attention.
The first one was a series
of photographs of Alice Liddell, who is said to be the real life inspiration behind
the fictional Alice in ‘Alice in Wonderland’ written by Charles Lutwidge
Dodgson under the pen name Lewis Carroll, although throughout his life he
denied that his characterisation of the fictitious ‘Alice’ was ever based on a
real person. If we look at Alice Liddell in this image, she appears to be
fairly normal looking, in an innocently tucked up position with short dark
hair, contrasting with the image of the fictional Alice, whose key features are
long golden hair, with her blue dress, white smock and little black bow.
Kitty Fischer was also a key
figure I learned about. Having come from a poor background, she became the most
celebrated courtesan of the eighteenth century, and what gave her such a title
was her beauty, wit and charm which captivated fellow Londoners in the
mid-1700s. Using her own knowledge of marketing skills, she carefully managed
her image and developed her own celebrity status using carefully choreographed
publicity stunts and managing her portrayal in painted and printed images. She
knew how to manipulate the general public through public exhibitions which
generated ‘a demand for her face, her body and her sensuality” and worked with
artists such as Sir Joshua Reynolds, and his rival Nathaniel Hone. If you look
carefully at the right corner of the portrait (below), you will see a kitten is
attempting to fish from a goldfish bowl, a choice made by the artist to
indicate the woman’s identity - Kitty Fischer.
The final, and probably most
globally recognisable figure (along with Alice in Wonderland) was William Shakespeare,
a male Elizabethan writer whose words maintain enough gravitas for him to remain
a household name in the twenty-first century and one of, if not the most,
influential writers throughout history, whose words seem to be everywhere.
Initially, these three
figures caused me to question the relationship between reputation/imagery and
the real person behind closed doors and how they inspired/created such
legacies.
It was the ideal lead into
my anticipated visit to the next exhibition which I would attend in two days’
time. The question on my mind was, to what extent does ‘hype’ (or in the long
term, a legacy) come from talent, character
or image, or is it the combination of them all? What gives certain figures
longevity and popularity over others?
The Audrey Hepburn ‘Portraits of an Icon’ exhibition was one of my
favourite exhibitions I’ve been to, as it gave me the opportunity to explore
further why Audrey Hepburn has had such a powerful influence in the colliding
worlds of film and fame, after I learned more about her at the Paramount
Pictures Studios in Los Angeles last summer, whilst getting to indulge myself
in quiet rooms filled with famous black and white photographs of the iconic
actress.
She should not be
underestimated. In the twenty-first century we like to think that it is a
modern concept to be non-conforming to gender expectations and roles, but like
many key woman in history, Audrey Hepburn was already doing just that. On a
superficial level, she demonstrated her challenge with female expectations by
sporting a short haircut, something we frequently consider as a bold choice made by the ‘modern
woman’. More significantly, she often took more controversial acting roles such
as in Breakfast at Tiffany’s where
the female protagonist (more so in the book) had strong undertones of a sexual nature,
and The Children’s Hour, which also deals
with sexuality, a controversial topic portrayed by women at the time in mainstream cinema.
However, although her image is recognised by most people, it is intriguing to me
how little people actually know about her life and her as a person (to the
extent of what we think we can know
about a famous icon, anyway).
I concluded that our
knowledge of such key figures is formed by an amalgamation of selective
portrayal of truth, emphasis and marketing (being in the way that desire is
created from the way people are photographed in particular). Although we all buy into this whether we know it or not, I
find it slightly unnerving how some people’s lives are slightly romanticised and
consequently almost seem fictionalised to an extent, because we choose to
believe what we are shown/what is created rather than knowing the full story,
and we put people on pedestals which cannot be realistically maintained.
A key pop culture reference
to this notion is depicted in John Green’s novel and film adaptation of ‘Paper
Towns’. Whilst I don’t consider myself a John Green fan, and felt the film fell
short of what it could have been, I am intrigued by the characterisation of his
female adolescent protagonist ‘Margo’ (played by Cara Delevingne) and the
perception of her through the eyes of his other protagonist Quentin (Nat Wolff).
Green explores the typical archetype of the teenage girl being an object of
desire, similar to the American construct of “the hottest girl in school” which
seems to feature in every single high
school chick flick ever made. Although I felt the film was a bit flimsy, I
did appreciate John Green’s attempt to deconstruct the notion that girls in
high school are flawless because of the way in which they are placed on
pedestals in our social hierarchies. Unfortunately, these hierarchies are so
powerful in both school and society by
the way in which some individuals have the power to influence more than others.
Margo is constructed to be this mysterious, attractive girl who is so energised
by mystery that she is hard to ‘pin down’ so to speak; is it her or the people
around her who create this perception of her? The film deconstructs this in the
ending of the film when Quentin realises people are not what they are often
made out to be, and thus the film makes the point that women are often
portrayed as these mysterious, angelic higher beings because of their beauty
and allure, which cannot be maintained in reality.
The other night I watched a
panel interview online at London BFI Film Festival for an upcoming film to be
released in November called ‘Carol’ an adaptation from the novel ‘The Price Of
Salt’ by Patricia Highsmith, which follows the romantic story of two women caught
up in the oppressive society of 1950s New York. In the panel show, a journalist
posed a question to Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett along the lines of “Are you
considered to be strong women for taking on this film?” to which Cate retorts
in good humour, “What does that mean?” and continues her puzzlement for what
that means: “Driving the narrative?”. Rooney contributes a response to Cate’s
bewilderment, “Because we have fully realised parts in the movie it’s somehow
strong, but it should be normal”, to which Cate adds: “and we’re meant to say
‘thank you’ haha”.
I also noticed the power of
setting a story in the past. Some of my favourite photographers are female
photojournalists from the 1950s, many of whom had projects based in New York, such as Ruth Orkin. Their photographs possess a certain authentic quality that makes us romanticise these images and ideas simply because they are removed from our
lives or seem to be from a different time.
It all forms the basis of
how consumerism seems to work, selling an image, essentially. What all of these
topics have in common is how we are manipulated by what we are shown or told,
which makes us idolise things, not necessarily for their reality, but for what
they seem to be or what people want them
to be. Fame and celebrity seems to be a complicated construct, and I’d like to
think that, with those who have longevity and power, it is because we recognise
them for their talent and as a full, real person, rather than their fame being a product of us
idolising their image only.
Even the concept of 'the girl next door' has become a term so manipulated that it now has its own pedestal expectations. I’d like to think that we as
members of a modern society are gradually becoming more aware of the inaccurate
depictions of those in the spotlight, characterisations of figures portrayed to
certain demographics of people, or the people in our everyday lives, and that
we focus more on allowing someone to be a human being with real issues,
difficulties, colloquialisms and flaws that we are understanding of rather than
critical of, and we can erase the unrealistic pedestal we insert into the constructions
of such social hierarchies, therefore erasing the chances of the unfair
depiction of a ‘downfall’. Let people be fully recognised people who do what
they choose, whether they have been attached to an agenda or not.
Can you imagine having a
chat with an iconic figure who is essentially worshipped for being flawless, over
a cuppa with them dressed down in jeans, no make up and a baggy jumper, letting
them just be normal for a moment?
‘Moon River’, Breakfast At Tiffany’s - I'm crossing you in style some day https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7SI7N22k_A
Tears For Fears - "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST86JM1RPl0
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