Dennis Stock 1928-2010

Photo

I heard earlier today of the sad news of Magnum photographer Dennis Stock's death on 11 January in Florida. I was lucky enough to meet Dennis and spend some time with him discussing his life and work in 2004, when he was in London for the opening of his first solo exhibition Harlem to Hollywood at the Hackelbury Gallery.

The 20th century produced many iconic images, among these, a portrait entitled The Photojournalist, taken in 1951 by Andreas Feininger (1906-1999.) Feininger, the son of the Bauhaus tutor Lionel Feininger, had originally trained as an architect at the Bauhaus, and worked in the studio of the great Le Corbusier, before moving to New York in 1939, where he began to work full time as a photographer.

Although Feininger is now best remembered for his ground breaking use of very long lenses and the extreme the close-up, The Photojournalist, a high contrast portrait of a photographer, with his Leica camera raised to his eye, is possibly his best known photograph, and is now, much in demand by collectors of his work.

The portrait was commissioned for the cover of Life magazine, and featured a young photographer who had just won the magazines Young Photographer Contest, his name was Dennis Stock, and today, Stock is recognised as one of the most important photographers of our time, and like Feininger, has created some of the most memorable and iconic images of the last half-century.

Born in New York in 1928, Stock's career began in 1946 after his discharge from the US Navy, and under the GI Bill of Rights, all discharged troops where entitled to a free education. Stock tells me, at our meeting in a Soho restaurant, that he chose to take courses at the School for Social Research where Berenice Abbott (1898-1991) taught; “My attraction to photography per se, was that I made a few dollars photographing parties with a box camera and flash bulb. But I wanted to go beyond that, so I took this course.”

He admits to me, that he was a bad student, and quickly realised that this was not the environment in which he would learn the skills that he sought. “So I went to Miss Abbott, not really knowing who she was, and I said, I need to immerse myself in a job in photography.” He continues, “She said there is a gentleman that you can go and see, he is President of the American Society of Magazine Photographers and maybe he can refer you to a photographer.”

The young Stock duly arranged to meet the “gentleman” in question, one W Eugene Smith (1918-1978,) then working for Life magazine, “I went to Eugene, and he said I will hire you,” Stock tells me. He would assist the great photographer for two weeks, before Smith realised that his new assistant didn't really know anything about photography.

Stock describes himself as a “New York street kid, who was arrogant and did not take instruction well,” but Smith offered him advice, advice that would one day pay off, “You ought to work for a man by the name of Gijon Mili (1904-1984,) he will really kick your ass.”

Although he worked for Smith for just a few short weeks, it was enough time for the young photographer to comprehend the higherachy of Life magazine, and he was able to get jobs assisting other Life photographers. One such position was to assist Leonard McComb, who was producing a story on the elegant high fashion model Carmen. “I was instructed to take all these boxes of Strobe lights over to a swimming pool, light the pool and have it ready for him to just plug [his camera] in.” He continues, “I didn't know what the hell I was doing,” but the photographs where taken and at the end of the session, McComb said “I am taking Carmen to lunch now,” and walked off, leaving Stock to pack up and return to the Life offices. On his return, Stock, tells me he asked the assignments editor, “Who the hell does this guy think he is? I'm busting my ass, he's leaving the equipment, I can barely deal with it,” at which point Stock was promptly fired, and never hired as an assistant by the magazine again.

But a chance encounter with Mili, in the hallway of the Life offices, gave Stock the opportunity to introduce himself, “I said, I have been told I should work with you, that you will really kick my ass.” And he said, okay, come on, and “I worked for him for four years.”

In the later part of 1951, his fourth year assisting Mili, Stock entered the aforementioned Life magazine’s photography contest, winning first prize, with his Lewis Hine inspired study of East German refugee's arriving at New York’s harbour, with Elliott Erwitt winning second prize. As the competition winner, Stock’s portrait was taken for use on the cover of Life; McComb the photographer that Stock had earlier assisted, was commissioned to produce this portrait, although a second portrait session was arranged with Feininger producing the now iconic image, The Photojournalist, in the studio of Mili, possibly giving Stock a near unique position in the history of photography, as not only the creator, but also, the subject of an iconic image. However, in the end neither portrait was used, instead the portrait of the sixth plac e winner, a woman grac ed the magazine's cover.

With his prize money, Stock began to consider seriously that it maybe time for him to graduate from assistant to full-time photographer. Mili too thought it was time, and when Robert Capa (1913-1954) called the New York office of Magnum, after seeing the young mans picture in Life, requesting that Stock be “approached immediately to join the agency,” the decision was finally made to go it alone.

Stock says, “A call came from Bob Capa to the woman who ran the Magnum office in New York, which was a one desk, one person office, a nd he said get this guy. And she approached me, and said we would like you too join Magnum, and we even have an assignment for you with General Motors, to go to Alaska.” He continues, “Dear Mili gave me some strobes as a going away present, and that was my take-off.” Alaska proved to be a wonderful place for Stock to work, and a subject that he would return to over time, culminating in a book, one of over twenty that Stock has now published.

Later, Capa made the suggestion to Stock, that he should base himself in Hollywood, there was no Magnum photographer currently covering the area, and Capa felt that there was a “lot of interesting work to be done,” that would have the added benefit of generating a high income.

It was the early-fifties, and the studio production companies where beginning to hire photographers that had good contacts with magazines. Whilst Stock was considering what Capa had suggested, another important phone call came, this time from the Hollywood producer Stanley Kramer, who invited Stock to Hollywood and then hired him to work on the film The Caine Mutiny (1954), directed by Edward Dmytryk, the film centres on Lieutenant Commander Queeg, played by Humphrey Bogart.

Stock was not over interested in documenting the set, so would wait quietly for the time that allowed him to execute his preconceived ideas. He tells me, “I worked with Bogart at one point and I just had a helmet that he was wearing, he was captain of this ship and he was a nut and I new he was capable of showing this in his eyes. So I went in very close with the camera.” He continues, “And he said what you do'in kid, and I said that’s the way I want it, that’s the way I see it.” After that encounter, Bogart became Stock's mentor, it was written in to the actors contract that he would finish filming promptly at 5pm on a Friday evening, no matter what stage the film was at, so that he could spend the weekend pursuing his passion of sailing.

Stock began to receive regular invitations to join Bogart for the weekends sailing, as his wife “Betty” (Lauren Bacall,) did not like the activity, preferring to stay at home with the children. In the coarse of this new friendship “the kid” would be introduced to numerous movie stars, directors and producers.

One such introduction was to the director Nicholas Ray Rebel Without a Cause (1955,) who held a regular Sunday afternoon soiree at his cabana at Chateau Marmont , Los Angeles. Within minutes of Stock arriving, Ray said, “I want you to meet someone.” The 27-year old photographer, quickly found himself face to face with another kid just three years his junior, and Ray simply said, “James Dean, Dennis Stock, talk.” They stood for an hour in the corner of a room just chatting, at the end of the conversation “Jimmy,” said, “I have a screening this Wednesday at a small movie house in Santa Monica, why don't you come and see it.”

Stock admits, that at the time he had know idea who Dean was, and had never heard of his first film East of Eden, “I went to the movie and I was blown away, his performance was just extraordinary.” After the screening Stock found the young actor sat on his motorcycle in an alley alongside the movie theatre, “I walked up to him, and I said you where wonderful, I would like to talk to you about a story. He said, okay, I'll meet you tomorrow morning at Googie's, which was a coffee shop that we all hung around.”

The two young men met the following day, and tried to talk over coffee, but the word was out about this wonderful new actor and people kept coming up to the table. After about an hour of this constant attention, Stock suggested that they get out of the coffee shop and find somewhere quieter. At the time, Stock had no car, so Dean suggested that he jump on the back of his motorcycle, “I had never been on the back of a motorcycle before, so I get on the back and wrap my arms around his waist.” He continues, “I was scared to death, and screaming in his ear, if I go you go.”

They went up into the hills of Laurel Canyon, where Dean's agent had bought a piece of land to build a house, with spectacular views over Los Angeles, for five hours they talked about Stock's idea for the story. A story that was not specifically about Dean, but about a generation of upcoming young actors, that where untypical of Hollywood. The likes of Paul Newman, Monty Cliff, Steve McQueen and Marlon Brando, a group of actors, that as Stock points out, "weren't just good looking, but worked internally and did not rely just on the camera."

Dean agreed to work with Stock and plans where made to visit the family home in Marion, Indiana, where he was educated as an actor and to work with him in Hollywood. A signature of Stock's work is his collaboration with his subjects, very much like a director and actor's relationship the aim was to create a visual biography.

Stock approached Life magazine with the idea, and sensing a star in the making they guaranteed to cover the costs of a two-day shoot. And although, in Stock's words Dean became a little egocentric, demanding a cover and writer approval, which Stock pointed out was unreasonable, the two worked on the story for the next two months. From his family home in Indiana, to Hollywood and the dinners and streets of New York, Stock created some of the finest portraits of the 20th century, including the now iconic photograph of Dean, walking in a grey, wet Times Square. In fact the two got on so well that Ray, who was now working on Rebel Without a Cause, hired Stock as Dean's dialogue coach, saying, “You know how to handle him.”

Then, Dmytryk invited Stock to Swit zerland to work on The Mountain (1956,) star ring Spencer Tracey and Robert Wagner, whilst working there, he encountered a strong and still unexplained desire to return to the United States, he says “I want to see Jimmy, I want to see Jimmy.” He went straight to Geneva airport, boarding the first available flight home, but not before calling ahead to a mutual friend in Los Angeles, who picked Stock up at the airport, and drove him to Dean's home.

The young actor had recently bought a new car and asked Stock to accompany him to the racetrack that coming weekend where he was going to race the car. Stock agreed immediately to join Dean on the trip, although just a few short minutes later he changed his mind, and to this day does not know why. On Friday of that same week, Stock was having coffee in a dinner with Dean's girlfriend, when the owner came over to the table, “They’re saying Jimmy's dead,” "and that was that", says Stock. It was September 30th 1955.

Ironically considering the title of Feininger's portrait, Stock does not consider himself a photojournalist, preferring instead to describe himself as an essayist. But above all, photography for Stock is a journey, his photographs of Dean, Bogart, Billie Holliday, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Audrey Hepburn who he photographed with an early Nikon given to him by Margaret Bourke-White (1904-1972.) Along with the other themes that he has chosen, including California, Provence (a project that took seven years to complete), the hippies, Jazz, modern architecture and flowers, all form part of this journey. A journey that is ultimately about Dennis Stock, a man I have come to greatly admire over the hour that we have talked and the subsequent hours I have spent looking at his work, for his vision, yes, but for far more than that, for his passion, honesty, and charm.

I ask him one last question, what is he currently working on, he responds quickly, “Nothing.” But one senses the journey is far from over, he is in London for the opening of his first solo show in the UK, there are plans for a show of the Dean portraits to coincide with the anniversary of the actors death in 2005, and he would like to work in China, with fellow Magnum photographer Chien-Chi Chang, and do an even larger project involving all the members of Magnum…

Image The Photojournalist, 1951 by Andreas Feininger.

This interview was originally published in the Association of Photographers’ magazine Image, in 2004.