Anna Cordova, On Annie Liebovitz

I don’t often get caught up in meanings or hidden details within art. I view a piece and immediately look at technical qualities such as composition or lighting. After analyzing, I allow myself to feel an emotion. A couple of works, however, have challenged my way of viewing art: Diane Keaton, New York (1984) and Alice in Wonderland, Donatella Versace and Rupert Everett with Natalia, Paris (2003) (The Mock Turtle’s Story) (2003). These two portraits, taken by Annie Leibovitz, have been some of the only artistic works that provoke an emotion before my brain begins to analyze.

Annie Leibovitz 

I was introduced to Leibovitz’s work when Youtube advertised her MasterClass lessons. She spoke about a specific photograph of a man sitting on a bed. I skipped the ad and didn’t think much of it until I began getting the same ad before every video I clicked on. Like I said before, I don’t focus on meaning unless it is obvious and intentional, but I was getting curious about Leibovitz’s work and why I had been targeted for her ads. I assumed it was because I am a portrait photographer who, at the time, was still looking for her art related niche. However, I’m sure Youtube just noticed I had been watching multiple portrait related videos a day and the algorithm picked up on that. Either way, I looked her up and, I’m not going to lie, initially, her work did not change my life. I scrolled through dozens of portraits of celebrities and was amazed at the talent, but I continued to analyze before appreciating the art by itself.

Until at the bottom of the page, two works caught my eye. One was a portrait of three people sitting in front of a lake, their expressions differ and only one is making eye contact with the camera. One of the people, a young woman, is dressed in a light blue dress while the others are dressed in full black attire. The photo was like a fantasy, but in a way that was off putting. It reminded me of a Brothers Grimm fairytale that had been redone by Disney, but retained some of the chilling aspects. I was curious about their expressions which originally caught my eye. Although the photo had a fairytale resemblance, the subjects appeared to be unamused. After looking into the photo to answer my lingering questions, I found that it had been a part of a series for Vogue coordinated by Grace Coddington. She brought along Leibovitz and model Natalia Vodianova to do an Alice in Wonderland inspired shoot. The other “characters” were all prominent designers including Marc Jacobs and Donatella Versace. When looking into this specific photo, “The Mock Turtle’s Story”, I found that the Mock Turtle, Gryphon, and Alice were played by Rupert Everett, Donatella Versace, and Natalia Vodianova. As I remembered the original story of the Mock Turtle in the original Lewis Carroll novel, the expressions on each of their faces began to make sense. The Mock Turtle (Everett) is explaining to Alice (Natalia) about why he is so melancholy, “Once,” said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, “I was a real Turtle.”1 Coddington described the shoot as “…exhausting, exhilarating, and brought together so many things I loved, from the designers to the model to the location…”2 The photo itself is beautiful. The colors, lighting, and wardrobe are incredible which pull you straight into this unsettling fairytale world. Leibovitz and Coddington, along with the rest of the cast, recreated these stories with such emotion that you can appreciate before understanding the meaning and subtle details within each photo. 

The Mock Turtle’s Story, 2003 

The second photo was a portrait of Diane Keaton. She is dressed in a long light pink dress with a cloth of the same color covering her face. The rest of the image is covered in this exact shade of pink. The chair to the left of her, the switch on the wall, the door in the background, her shoes, her socks, and her jewelry are the same muted baby pink color. The color is sweet and reminds me of bubble gum when popped. The only colors standing out are her fingers that emerge from her sleeves and the black wheels holding up the chair. The photo feels delicate and calm despite Diane Keaton’s memorable unique personality and style. During the 80s, Keaton was often seen sporting blazers and suits which society continues to view as masculine. “She politicised fashion, she took on gendered norms, she always made it her own. Her love of suiting, for example, has always been groundbreaking.”3 In this photo, however, we see her in a soft pink dress. Regardless, the peculiarity of the photo, the cloth over her face and the coloring hold a mirror to Keaton’s individuality. I had never seen a photograph like this, especially a portrait. In my experience, portraits are often complex, full of emotion, expressions, and poses. This photo challenges that. Keaton has no expression (at least none that we can see) and there is no complex posing. This is what initially caught my eye. My first thought was “how did she find all of these items in the same shade of pink?” I didn’t try to find a distraction or a flaw in the image. I just appreciated the creativity and the execution of such a unique piece of art. 

Diane Keaton, New York, 1984 

Other than merely just catching my eye in a different way than portraits routinely do, these two works captured my attention in a way that began with an emotion and a curiosity to understand the works and their meanings. I wanted to understand Rupert Everett’s expression, why Natalia looked so apathetic, and generally why Leibovitz took the photo. I was intrigued at the color and matching characteristic of Keaton’s portrait. I wanted to understand why it had been taken in this way and what had inspired Leibovitz to challenge her own style. Not only was I intrigued and ambitious to answer these questions about Leibovitz work, but I was ready to ask these questions about my own work. Why had I posed the model like this? Why am I drawn to water in photos? Why do I prefer dramatic works over works that evoke a calming effect? These two photos not only sparked feeling and interest, but they created a sense of meaning in my own work that I use to inspire myself.

1 Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1865

2 Grace Coddington, Honoring the 120th Anniversary: Grace Coddington Shares Her Vogue Story, 2012, https://www.vogue.com/article/honoring-the-120th-anniversary-grace-coddington-shares-her-vogue-story 

3 AND NOW A LESSON IN STYLE FROM DIANE KEATON, Chrisanthi Kaliviotis, 2021, https://graziamagazine.com/articles/and-now-a-lesson-in-style-from-diane-keaton/