The National Portrait Gallery’s latest exhibition, *Marilyn Monroe: A Portrait*, coincides with the 100th anniversary of the actress’s birth, offering an evocative glimpse into the life of one of the most iconic figures in modern history. However, as the exhibition unfolds, it raises poignant questions about the complexities of Monroe’s identity and the narratives constructed around her. Despite the striking visuals, the experience leaves visitors grappling with the paradox of a woman who was both celebrated and misunderstood.
A Journey Through Time and Identity
The exhibition opens with a captivating photograph of a youthful Monroe, captured by the lens of André de Dienes, as she scales a rocky cliff in Death Valley. At just 19, her hair is still a natural brown, unaltered by the cosmetic surgeries that would later characterise her image. This image, alongside another of her perched barefoot in the middle of a sun-soaked desert highway, serves as a metaphor for the dichotomy of Monroe’s existence—a woman who simultaneously reached for the stars yet stood perilously close to the edge of oblivion.
The narrative of Monroe’s life is compelling yet deeply flawed. From her beginnings as Norma Jeane Mortensen to her evolution into the glamorous Marilyn Monroe, the exhibition illustrates how each transformation sought to remedy the voids left by her tumultuous upbringing. Notably, Monroe never knew her father, and her relationships with her husbands often bore the imprint of that absence, as she referred to them all as “Daddy.” The tragic irony of her life is further underscored by the Latin phrase “Cursum perficio” inscribed at her final residence, suggesting a journey that ended in uncertainty—whether by accident, suicide, or foul play remains a subject of speculation.
The Many Faces of Marilyn
As visitors meander through the exhibition, they are treated to a chronological exploration of Monroe’s career, from her modelling days to her Hollywood stardom. Strikingly, the exhibition largely eschews discussions of the men in her life—her brief marriage to Joe DiMaggio or her alleged affair with John F. Kennedy are notably absent. Instead, the focus shifts to the artists who drew inspiration from her, such as Andy Warhol, whose vibrant screen prints stand in stark contrast to the darker realities of Monroe’s existence.
This deliberate choice to sidestep the narratives of her romantic relationships raises questions about the portrayal of female figures in art and media. By omitting these men, the exhibition attempts to reclaim Monroe’s agency, repositioning her not merely as a muse but as a complex individual navigating a male-dominated world. Yet, it simultaneously risks oversimplifying her experiences by not fully engaging with the relationships that shaped her narrative.
The Illusion of Authenticity
The photographs on display, ranging from glamorous portraits to candid shots, illustrate Monroe’s keen awareness of her image. She meticulously curated her public persona, often selecting the photos that best represented her. However, the quest for “honesty” in her image is fraught with contradictions. While some photographers captured her in vulnerable moments, the essence of those images often feels contrived, as if Monroe was performing yet another role rather than revealing her true self.
This leads to a critical reflection on the nature of celebrity and the constructed identities that permeate our culture. The exhibition suggests that rather than providing clarity, the myriad of images and interpretations surrounding Monroe only deepen the enigma. Each photograph serves as a fragment of a complex narrative—one that can be reshaped to fit various interpretations, from that of a tragic figure to a feminist icon.
Why it Matters
The *Marilyn Monroe: A Portrait* exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery is more than a retrospective of a Hollywood star; it is a profound commentary on the construction of identity and the narratives we build around public figures. As we engage with Monroe’s legacy, we are reminded of the seductive power of images and the stories they tell—or fail to tell. In an age where the line between reality and performance is increasingly blurred, Monroe’s life serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of mythologising individuals while ignoring their complexities. The exhibition invites us to reconsider how we perceive and narrate the lives of women, both in the past and present, challenging us to look beyond the surface and question the truths we choose to believe.
