As the world approaches what would have been Marilyn Monroe’s centenary, the National Portrait Gallery in London has unveiled a highly anticipated exhibition that aims to shed light on the life of the iconic actress. Titled “Marilyn Monroe: A Portrait,” the display is a kaleidoscope of striking images and evocative narratives that celebrate Monroe’s legacy. Yet, as one delves deeper into the exhibition, it becomes apparent that instead of clarifying Monroe’s complex existence, it often raises more questions than it answers.
A Life Narrativised
The exhibition opens with a captivating photograph of a youthful Monroe, taken by André de Dienes in Death Valley. Here, a 19-year-old Monroe, with her natural brown curls and untouched features, is seen scaling a rocky cliff. The caption reads, “Marilyn Monroe, Death Valley,” hinting at the stark contrasts that defined her life—beauty intertwined with peril. As one gazes at her carefree smile against a backdrop of impending doom, it is impossible not to ponder the layers of narrative that have been constructed around her life.
Monroe’s story is a tapestry woven from both her triumphs and tragedies: from her turbulent childhood as Norma Jeane Mortensen to her metamorphosis into a Hollywood legend. However, the exhibition seems to illustrate how easy it is to oversimplify her journey, as if each reinvention could remedy the disarray of her existence. Her complicated relationship with her identity is poignantly encapsulated in her tendency to refer to each of her husbands as “Daddy,” a reflection of her longing for paternal connection in a life marred by abandonment.
The gallery attempts to reclaim Monroe’s narrative, portraying her as the architect of her own story rather than merely a victim of circumstance. This admirable ambition, however, occasionally appears contradictory and may ultimately prove elusive.
The Absence of Men
In a notable curatorial decision, the exhibition largely sidesteps Monroe’s relationships with men, including her tumultuous marriage to Joe DiMaggio and her alleged affair with John F. Kennedy. Instead, it devotes considerable space to the artists who have immortalised her image, showcasing iconic works such as Andy Warhol’s colourful prints and Pauline Boty’s poignant tributes. A room dedicated to her posthumous influence demonstrates how Monroe has been reimagined by cultural figures long after her untimely death in 1962.
Yet, in omitting the male figures who played significant roles in her life, the exhibition risks presenting an incomplete portrait of Monroe. It raises questions about the narratives we choose to embrace and those we opt to ignore. Monroe’s life was undeniably intertwined with the men who sought to possess or define her—using her as both muse and object. By excluding these elements, the exhibition may inadvertently perpetuate a one-dimensional view of her as a solitary figure rather than a woman shaped by her relationships.
The Duality of Truth
Throughout the exhibition, the concept of “honesty” in relation to Monroe’s image is explored, yet it remains an ambiguous notion. Notably, the acclaimed photographer Eve Arnold captured Monroe in candid moments that seemingly reveal the actress’s vulnerability. However, the authenticity of these images is called into question. Are they truly candid, or merely another layer of performance? The images of Monroe reading James Joyce’s “Ulysses” or studying acting techniques may feel contrived, akin to modern-day celebrity stunts aimed at showcasing intellect.
The exhibition’s curation cleverly contextualises familiar photographs, transforming them into narratives of performance. Even Milton H. Greene’s renowned portraits of Monroe, which appear rife with melancholy, are revealed to be staged representations of a character she often embodied. The interplay between authenticity and artifice raises profound implications about how we perceive Monroe, suggesting that our understanding may be as constructed as the images on display.
A Myth, Not a Woman
Ultimately, “Marilyn Monroe: A Portrait” serves as a reminder that understanding Monroe through mere photographs is a flawed approach. The images on display function not as windows into her soul but as myth-making devices, each capable of supporting various interpretations. Whether we view her as a tragic figure, a feminist icon, or a misunderstood starlet, our fascination speaks to a broader cultural need to make sense of her legacy.
The exhibition invites us to grapple with the complexities of Monroe’s identity, yet it underscores that the truth of her existence may forever remain shrouded in ambiguity. As viewers, we are left to navigate the myriad stories that have been constructed around her, each more compelling than the last.
Why it Matters
The portrayal of Marilyn Monroe is not merely an exploration of a bygone starlet; it is a reflection of society’s ongoing struggle to understand female identity in a world saturated with imagery and narrative. This exhibition compels audiences to confront the narratives we accept and the truths we fabricate, urging us to consider how we define women in the public eye. As we continue to dissect Monroe’s life, we remain confronted by our own biases and the societal constructs that shape our perceptions, ensuring that her story—much like her legacy—remains tantalisingly elusive.