Penn’s photographs have memorialized personalities such as Charles James (top) and Elsa Schiaparelli (bottom)— two fashion designers, who, in the early 20th century, were considered some of the best in their field. It was perhaps to poke fun at the enigma of fame, and certainly to disrupt it, that photographer Irving Penn would place his most famous subjects in a narrow corner to have their portraits taken. The prop was simple in its contrivance, just two studio flats arranged at a sharply acute angle, but it sufficed to recast his famous subjects in a less complacent light. There they would stay, these celebrated men and women, until they showed us something new. Many believe that Penn, along with his rival, Richard Avedon, elevated fashion photography to the status of fine art in the public eye. But Penn himself remained worried about the distinction. He threw himself into private work whenever he could—still lifes, anthropological photography (he would haul a portable studio into the field), the famous midsection nudes. Anything to prove that he wasn’t limited to the Apollonian perfection of his corporate and magazine work. This story is from Kinfolk Issue Twenty-Four Buy Now Related Stories Arts & Culture Issue 46 Puff Piece On inflatable art. Arts & Culture Issue 44 Hannah Traore The art world's next big thing is a gallerist. Arts & Culture Issue 43 The Sellout On the moral maze of art and money. Arts & Culture Issue 42 Dream House The rise of renderporn. Arts & Culture Issue 40 Olalekan Jeyifous On fantastical architecture and sci-fi Brooklyn. Arts & Culture Issue 39 Liana Finck The wobbly-lined cartoonist with a razor-sharp vision.
