He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.
-- Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
Richard Avedon first photographed Gabriel García Márquez on a rainy day in 1976, but he felt that the portrait was a failure. Avedon finally had another chance to photograph the writer in 2004. This is the portrait that emerged from that second session: http://nyr.kr/1h2usmA
Source: newyorker.com
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Marilyn Monroe as Jean Harlow for a photoshoot with Richard Avedon, 1958
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Cher photographed by Richard Avedon, 1972
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Audrey Hepburn photographed by Richard Avedon for "Harper's Bazaar ", unpublished photo,1956
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Jean Shrimpton by Richard Avedon, 1968
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Dovima (American, 1927 - 1990), Giza, Egypt, 1951 - by Richard Avedon (1923 – 2004), American
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Dovima photographed by Richard Avedon in Egypt, 1951.
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"MR. & MRS. COMFORT"
RICHARD AVEDON // 1995
[inkjet print | 10.6 x 8.6"]
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Lauren Hutton / photo by Richard Avedon, Bahamas, 1968.
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Richard Avedon - Christy Turlington. 1995
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Marilyn Monroe with Billy Wilder during a publicity photoshoot in New York, NY, 1954.
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Pirelli Calendar 1997 - Ling Tan by Richard Avedon
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Richard Avedon (1923-2004), 'Edward Gorey', 1992
"Gorey acknowledged his debt to the Surrealists:
"I sit reading André Breton and think, “Yes, yes, you’re so right.” What appeals to me most is an idea expressed by [Paul] Éluard. He has a line about there being another world, but it’s in this one. And Raymond Queneau said the world is not what it seems—but it isn’t anything else, either. These two ideas are the bedrock of my approach. If a book is only what it seems to be about, then somehow the author has failed."
But, however much Gorey owes to the Surrealists, I see in him, equally, their less fun-loving predecessors, the Symbolist poets and painters of the late nineteenth century: Baudelaire, Mallarmé, Khnopff, Munch, Puvis de Chavannes, Redon. That strange world of theirs, caught in a kind of syncope, or dead halt, of feeling—open a Gorey volume on a winter afternoon, and that’s what you get. (Source)
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