Here’s another article from the archive—this time from Today, February 2, 1963. Today was The New John Bull which came out every Tuesday. And “bull” is the word, for Harrison Marks and Pam were never married. It just goes to show fake news isn’t a new phenomenon.
The story about the sheikh sounds made up as well, but I like to think it’s true — so if you are the sheikh and reading this, feel free to get in touch and confirm. I’ve transcribed the whole article below to make it easier to read.
I Gave My Wife to the World
She has one of the most beautiful bodies I have ever seen. And, as the photographic equivalent of a painter of the nude, I have seen hundreds.
She is the most photographed model in the world. She is Pamela Green, who was once my wife, and I am photographing her, nude, for the 10,001st time.
I photographed her before we married, during our marriage and I still take pictures of her today. It is evidence of the special relationship which exists between photographer and model.
The Harvest
I respond pretty fiercely now to the sniggers, the winks, the digs in the ribs. It’s the inevitable harvest that you reap when you specialize in nude photography.
It’s difficult to explain the special kind of detachment which a serious photographer has to bring to his work. People habitually associate nudity with sex. Some people, I suppose, even find something suggestive in the Venus de Milo.
She was my inspiration before wemarried… she was my inspiration through our yas ofmarriage.And, though the courts have separatedus, she is still my inspiration.
George Harrison Marks
But if I’d had the conventional “sexy picture” approach, my career as an original photographer would have lasted about three minutes.
Of course, I share with all normal men the natural response to a beautiful woman’s physical attraction. But when I’m at work in the studio, my interest is exclusively concentrated on photography.
Understanding
With a good model—like Pamela —there is a special kind of communication, a mutual understanding strong enough to survive our broken marriage. A mood is created.
And at these times the resulting photographs have that something extra.
Before I met Pamela I was doing mostly theatrical and portrait work. After she had posed for me several times, two entirely separate relationships developed between us.
The first was that of photographer and model—it was clear from the start that we were operating on the same psychological wavelength.
Professionally, we brought out the best in each other.
I persuaded her to leave the Folies Bergere show in which she was appearing as a dancer, and to come to work full time for me. Inevitably we got to know each other as people outside the studio. We fell in love and got married.
But throughout the eleven years we have known each other, we have always kept those two relationships separate. It would have been fatal if we had not.
Since the day she first walked into my studio, Pamela has appeared in films, books, magazines and on millions of calendars. Pictures of her have been pinned up in offices, factories, messes and barrack rooms all over the world.
And everywhere she is regarded as being a symbol of beauty.
My camera has captured Pamela in ten thousand different poses, a thousand different costumes, a hundred different moods. Between us we have created other photographic personalities for her.
She is Rita Landre, the “flamboyant French cabaret star”; she is also “Princess” Sonmar H’Arriks, a dark, middle-eastern beauty with long-flowing black hair and a sinuous, dusky body.
So perfectly did Pamela fit this last role that an Arabian sheikh travelled two thousand miles to demand her hand in marriage.
Eyes flashing
He studied her picture in my photographic exhibition room, then turned to me, his eyes flashing with determination, and said:
“I must marry her. I have seen her picture many times in magazines, and I have fallen in love with her.”
Gently I told the sheikh that the princess had gone to America for several months. The sheikh had to return home in two days, so he never did see the girl of his dreams.
For it is dreams I create, dreams for sheikhs and senior aircraftmen, dreams for students and stockbrokers. I give them an escape into a dream where all women are beautiful.
Hundreds of men have fallen in love with Pamela. And if I had been running a marriage bureau, I could have made a considerable fortune out of the marriage proposals.
But the statistics of my models mean nothing to me. For example, I was asked the other day what Pamela’s figures are. I had to confess that I didn’t know.
I don’t care about the statistics …always provided that they are suitably placed.
Sniggerers
I look at models with the detachment of a painter studying a landscape.
Work and pleasure never mix, and every professional nude model knows this. Only the non-professionals think differently.
Things have progressed considerably since I first began nude photography. The ranks of my greatest group of enemies—the sniggerers—have happily diminished.
Yet, incredibly enough, there are still many people who cannot look at a picture of a nude woman without blushing, giggling or fulminating.
The greatest secret in nude photography is that the model should not look naked. Her nudity should be secondary to the overall beauty of the picture. Anyone can take a photograph of a naked girl, but it takes a skilled, experienced photographer to make it a work of art.