Lee Miller: The War Photographer, Muse and Model That Did Things Her Own Way
Updated: Apr 15
After documenting the harrowing scenes of liberation at Buchenwald and Dachau, including piles of human bones and the haunting presence of barely surviving prisoners, Lee Miller, accompanied by Life photographer David E. Scherman, ventured to Hitler's Munich apartment. She removed her dusty boots, leaving traces of the horrors she witnessed Buchenwald and Dachau on a clean bathmat, before posing in Hitler's bathtub.
In various shots, Miller's expressions range from contemplative to interrupted, with the iconic image capturing her seemingly surprised gaze. These alternate takes, discovered by her son's wife, Suzanna, shed light on Miller's creative process. It's thanks to her son, Antony Penrose, and his dedication to preserving her legacy that we have a deeper understanding of Lee Miller's extraordinary life beyond this infamous moment. Her bath-time photo is just one chapter in a remarkable life story.
Lee Miller, SS Guard in Canal, 1945. Miller’s notes on the back of some of her photographs were very telling of “the level of coldness and anger that was in her heart in that moment,” said Penrose.
Miller's early years saw her as a successful model in New York City, where she caught the eye of Vogue magazine's publisher, Condé Nast. However, Miller's ambitions extended far beyond the realm of fashion, and in 1929 she found herself in Paris, drawn into the vibrant world of surrealist art.
It was in Paris where Miller's path intersected with some of the greatest artistic minds of her time. She became both a collaborator and muse to luminaries such as Pablo Picasso and Man Ray.
Miller's collaboration with the surrealist artist Man Ray was not only creatively enriching but also profoundly influential in both their lives. Initially introduced as a model, Miller quickly emerged as Ray's muse, captivating him with her striking beauty and avant-garde spirit. Their professional partnership transcended traditional boundaries, as Miller actively contributed to Ray's photographic experiments and artistic vision. Together, they explored unconventional techniques such as solarisation, through an accident variously described; one of Miller's accounts involved a mouse running over her foot, causing her to switch on the light in mid-development producing ground-breaking images that challenged societal norms and expanded the possibilities of photography as an art form.
After leaving Man Ray and Paris in 1932, Miller returned to New York City. She established a portrait and commercial photography studio (with $10,000 worth of backing from friends) with her brother Erik (who had worked for the fashion photographer Toni von Horn) as her darkroom assistant. Miller rented two apartments, one became her home, while the other became the Lee Miller Studio.
In 1933, Miller had the the only solo exhibition of her life, some of the portraits displayed featured stars of stage and screen of the time.
In 1934, Miller abandoned her studio to marry the Egyptian businessman and engineer Aziz Eloui Bey, who had come to New York City to buy equipment for Egyptian railways. Miller moved to Egypt with her new husband and attempted to settle down to a quiet life in Cairo (her photos from this time are fascinating, as if you’re looking at a movie set), but it didn’t last long. By 1937, Miller had grown bored with her life in Cairo. She returned to Paris, where she met and married the British surrealist painter and curator Roland Penrose.
Miller began working as a photographer for British Vogue, just around the time WW2 broke out. She became the official war photographer for Vogue, documenting the Blitz. “It would’ve been incredibly easy for her to disappear to America and sit the war out. But she didn’t,” said Penrose about why Miller went to war. “I think she wanted to stay and try and do something. And nobody was going to give her a gun or an airplane, or something useful like that—so she used her camera.” She photographed scenes of desperation and destruction: young dead, beaten soldiers; citizens in fire masks, preparing for the worst; ruined landmarks; concentration-camp prostitutes gathered in army trucks. She sent her film off to Vogue, which published some of Miller’s most powerful and horrific work from the Holocaust.
Lee Miller collaborated extensively with American photographer David E. Scherman, a correspondent for Life magazine, on various assignments. Their partnership led them to France shortly after D-Day, where Miller documented significant events such as the use of napalm at the siege of St. Malo, the liberation of Paris, and the Battle of Alsace. However, their most haunting work together unfolded in the Nazi concentration camps of Buchenwald and Dachau. Perhaps their most iconic image emerged from Miller's unapologetic act of defiance: posing in Adolf Hitler's bathtub in Munich, with traces of Dachau's dust on her boots deliberately sullying the dictator's bathroom.
This moment, captured on April 30, 1945 – coincidentally the day of Hitler's suicide – remains emblematic of Miller and Scherman's partnership. Reflecting on the experience, Miller confessed to carrying Hitler's address for years afterwards.
Throughout this period, Miller's lens captured the poignant realities of wartime Europe: from the heartbreaking scenes of dying children in a Vienna hospital to the everyday struggles of post-war Hungarian peasants. She documented the aftermath of conflict, including the sombre sight of Nazi officers and their families in death and the execution of Hungarian Prime Minister László Bárdossy.
Even after the war's end, her dedication to journalistic integrity persisted during her tenure with Vogue, where she aimed to preserve war as a historical testament. Her surrealist approach, akin to her earlier modelling work, lent a unique perspective, often framed through the haunting confines of cattle trains. Miller's photographs transcended mere documentation; they were compositions of journalism and art, meticulously crafted to evoke deep emotion. As war-weary audiences grappled with the reality of atrocities, Miller's telegrams to British Vogue's editor, Audrey Withers, urged the publication of images from the camps, prompted by broadcasts from journalists like Edward R. Murrow and Richard Dimbleby. Miller's role as a wartime photojournalist extended beyond providing a mere record; her work served as a vital eyewitness account, bringing the harsh realities of war to a disbelieving world.
Upon her return to Britain from central Europe, Miller grappled with severe bouts of clinical depression and what we now recognise as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Struggling with uncertainty about her future, she turned to heavy drinking as a coping mechanism.
However, amidst this turmoil, she found solace and purpose in her creative pursuits. Commissioned by British Vogue in November 1946 to illustrate an article on James Joyce's Dublin, Miller embarked on a photographic journey through the city's streets, capturing its essence as it once was during Joyce's time.
Her evocative images, published in American Vogue in May 1947 and British Vogue in 1950, offer a vivid snapshot of Joyce's world. Meanwhile, her personal life underwent significant changes as well. In 1947, she married Antony Penrose, her son's father, and together they established their home at Farley Farm House in East Sussex. This idyllic setting soon became a haven for renowned artists like Picasso and Man Ray, who found inspiration in its tranquil surroundings. Despite occasional photo assignments for Vogue, Miller's focus shifted towards culinary pursuits, delighting guests with her gourmet creations (according to her housekeeper Patsy, Miller specialised in "historical food" like roast suckling pig as well as treats such as marshmallows in a cola sauce).
However, despite outward appearances of contentment, Miller continued to grapple with the haunting memories of war, which ultimately took a toll on her mental health (possibly accelerated by her husband's long affair with the trapeze artist Diane Deriaz).
Miller passed away at the age of 70 in the peaceful surroundings of Farley Farm House in East Sussex. Her departure left a void in the artistic community, yet her contributions to photography and her indomitable spirit continue to inspire generations of artists and thinkers such as Gucci's Frida Giannini, Ann Demeulemeester, and Alexander McQueen. Playwright David Hare commented, "Today, when the mark of a successful iconographer is to offer craven worship of wealth, or yet more craven worship of power and celebrity, it is impossible to imagine an artist of Lee's subtlety and humanity commanding the resources of a mass-market magazine." Mark Haworth-Booth, curator of The Art of Lee Miller, has said "her photographs shocked people out of their comfort zone" and that "she had a chip of ice in her heart...she got very close to things...Margaret Bourke-White was far away from the fighting, but Lee was close. That's what makes the difference--Lee was prepared to shock."
