Lee Miller initially rose to fame as a model and surrealist, notably through her close working and personal relationship with artist Man Ray. However, Miller’s most profound work was created during her time as a war journalist and photographer. She spoke of this time so rarely that it was completely unknown to her only son, Anthony Penrose until he uncovered boxes of manuscripts and negatives in the attic of their family home after her death in 1977.
Born in Poughkeepsie, New York in 1907, Lee Miller’s relationship with the camera began at home. Her father was an amateur photographer and she often modelled for him throughout her early years. At just 19 years old, Miller began her modelling career through extraordinary circumstances. Whilst living in New York, she was almost hit by a car and was saved by none other than Conde Nast, publisher of Vogue magazine. It was not long before she appeared on the cover of Vogue, and soon became interested in becoming a photographer herself. Her career as a model however was quickly derailed when Kotex, a period product company, used her image without consent. With little work available for a model who was the face of a period product brand, Miller decided to move to Paris and pursue photography.
In Paris, Miller sought out Surrealist artist Man Ray and the pair would quickly become lovers and collaborators. They worked so closely together during this time that it is hard to decipher which artist made what work. Man Ray introduced Miller to the Surrealists, whose philosophy would profoundly influence Miller for the rest of her career. A key theme of surrealism that reoccurs in Miller’s work was the idea of the found object, where easily accessible objects are reconfigured or combined to create something new and interesting. For instance, whilst Miller was living in Paris she also worked as a medical photographer. On one occasion, after a mastectomy procedure, Miller asked the surgeon if she could take the woman’s breast that had been removed and place it on a dinner plate so that she could photograph it.
After she left Man Ray and Paris behind, Miller returned to New York to start a photography studio, which she also abandoned when she decided to move to Cairo in 1934 to marry Egyptian businessman Aziz Eloui Bey. Although she was not formally working at this time, she continued taking photographs, which are considered some of her best work. Growing bored of her life in Egypt, her husband suggested that Miller take a trip back to Paris to catch up with her many friends and intellectual circles. During this trip, she met artist Roland Penrose, who Miller would leave her husband for and move to London with.
While residing in London with Roland Penrose, Miller supported herself by working as a fashion photographer for Vogue. When the Blitz started in London in 1940, Miller began photographing the ruined remnants left behind by the bombing. In true Surrealist fashion Miller’s photographs captured comedic and absurdist elements of the bombed city, once again through the lens of the found object. The title of her photograph Bridge of Sighs refers to the bridge in Venice of the same name, where crossing prisoners would sigh at their last view of Venice before being sent to their cells. Miller’s interpretation comes in the form of a bridge created through the hollowed out remains of a bombed out apartment building. This version perhaps echoes the sentiment of the prisoners in Venice, with the citizens of London looking out at the city as the sun sets, not knowing what a night of bombing could destroy next. This photograph, like many others that Miller took during the war, highlights her ability to capture the absurd leftovers of the carnage of war without losing any sense of pathos for the tragedy.
As an American citizen, Miller was prohibited from contributing to the British war effort. Instead, she captured the activities of women serving in the British royal navy, known as Wrens. Miller highlights the uncanniness of modern warfare by placing women behind fire safety masks and machinery as if they are a fashion accessory. In her 1944 image Behind the Sight, she photographs a woman standing in front of a mounted gun. This playful image blurs the woman into the gun and her smile perfectly aligns with the mesh of the gun sight. The metal below this appears like two breasts, perhaps commenting on the boundaries being crossed by men and machines during the war.
Just days before D-day at the suggestion of her friend, David Scherman, Miller signed up to be a war correspondent for the US forces. She soon found herself on Omaha Beach, covering a story about an evacuation hospital. Her first story was published in Vogue in August 1944 entitled 'Unarmed Warriors', where she captured pictures of nurses doing their daily tasks, surgeries in progress and the many wounded men waiting for treatment or waiting to be sent back to the UK. One burn victim asked Miller to take his photo because he wanted to see how funny he looked. Miller later said that it was “pretty grim and I didn't focus good.”
Initially, Miller was confined to the field hospital, as female journalists were prohibited from venturing to the front lines. However, Miller unintentionally broke this rule when she arrived at St Malo in Brittany, for a story that was supposed to cover 'how the Civil Affairs team moved in after hostilities to get things running smoothly again'. The press had published that St Malo had been 'captured but not occupied'. In reality, the Germans had just been isolated from the mainland and had to be driven back into the fortress. Due to heavy machine gun fire, Miller was not allowed near the action and instead joined a group of soldiers to watch from a hotel window, where she captured incredible images of distant artillery explosions as Allied forces laid siege on the German fortress.
Miller covered the Allied forces in France all the way through to the campaign’s success. She became the first female journalist present during the liberation of Paris and travelled extensively in Europe throughout the rest of the war, covering the German retreat through Luxembourg, and eventually into Germany itself.
Towards the end of the war, with her friend and fellow journalist, David Scherman, Miller visited the recently liberated Nazi concentration camps Buchenwald and Dachau. Many of the photos she took of the camps were later destroyed but she saved enough that the horrific events would not be forgotten.
Shortly after visiting Dachau, Miller and Scherman went to Munich and were staying at Hitler's apartment when the news of his suicide was announced. On that same day, the pair decided to stage a photoshoot in Hitler’s bathtub. In the picture, the bathroom’s white carpet was soiled by the dirt of Dachau on the photographer's shoes. Nearly a whole roll of film was used on pictures of Miller in the bath. However, one of the most poignant images is one of the last, with a skinny looking David Scherman, uncomfortably sitting in the bath looking at the camera. Scherman was Jewish, and the carefully aligned shower over his uncomfortable body holds a different meaning considering that days before the pair had witnessed the horrors of the concentration camps and the gas chambers.
When the war ended, Miller struggled to return to England, emotionally shaken and angered by what she had witnessed. She continued to wander around Europe living on a diet of amphetamines, coffee and alcohol. She somehow ended up in a children’s hospital in Vienna. Her last photographs as a war correspondent were of children in this hospital, who were well taken care of with the cruel paradox of the complete lack of medicine available. She wrote to her editor, “for an hour I watched a baby die… this tiny baby fought for his only possession, life, as if it might be worth something.”
Miller was haunted by what she had seen during her time in the war and was permanently changed when she returned to England, and was prone to alcoholism and periods of depression. She continued being a photographer for Vogue until completely giving it up in the mid 1950s, where her passion for photography turned to the kitchen and she became a gourmet cook.
Lee Miller strongly believed her war photography simply documented the war - she claimed “I’m busy making documents not art”. Despite this, without her time as a fashion model and Surrealist, her wartime work would not have shown the war as brutally and honestly as it was. Her son wrote that 'being a Surrealist artist must be the only possible training to enable a person to retain their objectivity in the face of the total illogicality of War - to make sense of the nonsensical.' The images she captured are arguably some of the most important and poignant images of the last century, let alone the war itself. The full extent of her impact has only emerged after her death with the efforts of her son, Anthony Penrose and their relationship is explored in the excellent film, Lee (2023) starring Kate Winslet that focuses on Miller’s time during the war.
Further Reading:
Davis, Caitlin S. (2006) ‘Lee Miller’s Revenge on Culture: Photojournalism, Surrealism, and Autobiography.’ Woman’s Art Journal 27, no. 1, pp. 3–9.
Hessel, Katy. (2019) ‘Ami Bouhassane on Lee Miller.’ The Great Women Artists Podcast.
How Lee Miller became such an influential force in Surrealist Britain (2018) The Independent. Available at: https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/art/lee-miller-surrealism-uk-photo-man-ray-avant-garde-a8409826.html
Liu, J.-C. (2015) ‘Beholding the feminine sublime: Lee Miller’s war photography’, Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 40(2), pp. 308–319.
Penrose, Anthony. (2005) Lee Miller’s war. London: Thames and Hudson.
Salvio, P.M. (2009) ‘Uncanny exposures: A study of the wartime photojournalism of Lee Miller’, Curriculum Inquiry, 39(4), pp. 521–536.
Sliwinski, S. (2011) ‘Air War and dream: Photographing the London blitz’, American Imago, 68(3), pp. 489–516.
The big picture: Lee Miller’s Sphinx-like Blitz spirit (2021) The Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2021/mar/28/the-big-picture-lee-miller-self-portrait-with-sphinxes-vogue-blitz-second-world-war
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