Eighty years ago on November 23, 1936 a
new incarnation of a familiar name hit American newsstands and launched a new era of print journalism centered on the stark power of the still photograph. For almost 40 years LIFE, a slick, oversize magazine was a weekly
visitor to millions of homes and
a unique chronicle of a dramatically changing world and
nation. Say what you will about
publisher Henry Luce—and there is a
lot of bad stuff to say—but he had a phenomenally
good idea.
Life was not a new name in publishing. A
magazine by that name was inaugurated in New
York City, by John Ames Mitchell and Andrew
Miller in 1883 modeled on the successful British humor magazine Puck
and its American incarnation. Mitchell handled the business end and Miller,
a successful commercial artist in
his own right, handled the editorial
content. From the beginning Life became known for its dazzling cover
art and interior illustrations, enhanced by lithography techniques using .
zinc coated platesThe 1000th number of the original Life in 1921 featured a nostalgic look back a a trunk full of old issues. |
When Charles Dana Gibson, creator of the Gay ‘90’s iconic Gibson Girl, became a regular
contributor—and eventually an owner—the
magazine took off and became one of the most popular in the country. Other noted contributing illustrators including
Palmer Cox, the creator of the Brownie
and W. E. Kemble who was the
original illustrator of Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn but who contributed popular, but degrading Coon
cartoons to the magazine. Later Life
became an early home for Norman
Rockwell.
This
incarnation of Life became known for
it furious anti-German slant as it tried
to push the reluctant President Woodrow Wilson into joining the Allies in World War I. It also had a nasty anti-Semitic streak.
None-the-less, it remained popular, even when post war tastes changed,
by adding reviews of Broadway productions
and films. When the upstart
New
Yorker was launched, it stole
many Life features, including its
short reviews, and raided the staff
of many key players. By the time the Depression hit, circulation
was dwindling and advertising
revenue plummeting. The staff kept it going until Henry Luce
made an offer they couldn’t refuse.
Publishing tycoon and Time-Life founder Henry Luce with his influential wife, playwright Clair Booth Luce. |
Luce was not really interested in buying the
magazine. He just wanted to buy the name. The simple
one word title worked will in the tradition
of Luce’s other publications, both
phenomenally successful, Time and Fortune. Luce wasted
no time in firing the staff and selling the magazine’s subscription lists, features, and goodwill to the
original magazine’s chief competitor
Judge.
The first issue of
Luce’s LIFE, now a news weekly
built around photographic coverage—a newsreel
on the printed page—featured a cover
photograph of the Fort
Peck Dam on the Missouri River in Montana by the soon-to-be-famous Margaret Bourke-White. Inside was a five page spread by Alfred
Eisenstaedt another shutter bug
to become synonymous with the
magazine. The magazine displayed its
photos and accompanying text on high
quality, heavy slick paper and
sold for just a dime making it affordable to even Depression era
readers.
The formula
was an instant success. Circulation soared from an initial 380,000
copies to over a million in just four months.
Such success naturally spawned imitators, the most successful being Look,
a virtual clone, which came out a
year later.
The editorial
policy of the magazine was pure Luce—virulently
conservative, an opponent of the
New Deal and Franklin Roosevelt and viciously
anti-labor. Yet whatever the editorials and
texts said, the power of the
pictures snapped by the world’s best
photo journalists often worked
against the stated objectives of the
management.
Edward K. Thompson,
who began as an assistant photo editor
in 1936, influenced the magazine through a succession of increasingly important posts, including photo editor, managing
editor and eventually editor-in-chief
until his retirement in 1970. That
spanned almost all of LIFE’s
existence was a photo weekly. Under his leadership—and perhaps at the insistence of the publisher’s wife Clair Booth Luce—LIFE offered opportunities for women unmatched at other publications. Bourke-White, for instance, became one of
seven female correspondents who
covered World War II. Among the others was Mary Welsh Hemingway, wife of novelist/correspondent
Ernest Hemingway. Women also rose in editorial leadership. Thompson gave extraordinary autonomy to fashion
editor Sally Kirkland, movie editor Mary Letherbee; and modern
living editor Mary Hamman.
LIFS’s
coverage of World War II
cemented its place in American life, giving the folks on the Home Front an often unvarnished view of what their loved
ones were going through. It dispatched
reporters and photographers to every
theater of the war, including those like Burma, the Aleutians,
and Italy that were often ignored in other media. Among those covering the war was veteran war
photographer Robert Capa, whose
photos of landing in the first wave of D-Day
at Omaha Beach were the only pictures from that perspective to survive. Capa continued
to cover conflicts around the world for LIFE
until he was killed by a landmine in Vietnam in 1954. At war’s end, Eisenstaedt captured one of the most iconic images of the age—a
celebrating sailor sweeping up a young nurse for a passionate kiss in Times
Square on V-J Day.
Ernest Hemingway was a regular contributor and The Old Man and the Sea, the short novel which led to his Nobel Prize was first published in LIFE. |
In the post-war years LIFE added
to its prestige by publishing serialized versions of the memoirs of President Harry S. Truman, Sir
Winston Churchill, and General
Douglas MacArthur. Top
literary figures including John
Steinbeck and Ernest Hemingway also contributed. Hemingway first published The
Old Man and the Sea in the magazine’s pages and latter turned in a
10,000 word essay on Spanish bullfighting.
In
the 1950’s LIFE chronicled the rapidly changing American landscape. Although its fierce anti-Communism was
supportive of Senator Joe McCarthy,
the unforgiving cameras of its
journalists captured the alcoholic
crusader at his most menacing. The magazine may have endorsed the return to
normalcy of the post war nuclear
family, but it also captured women at work and teenagers in rebellion. It
showed pictures of busty starlets
and hip-shaking rock and rollers, as well as grim scenes from the Civil Rights Movement. Luce might have endorsed Richard Nixon for President in 1960,
but John F. Kennedy and his photogenic wife leapt off the pages.
LIFE’s coverage of the Kennedy assassination and the nation in mourning may have been its high water mark. It rushed
a quickly produced hardbound
commemorative book to press by December, which instantly became a treasured memento in millions of homes.
In
the ‘60’s Gordon Parks and others
documented the civil rights movement and eventually the emergence of the new
militancy of Malcolm X, the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panther Party. The magazine celebrated the triumphs of the space program including the Mercury,
Gemini, and Apollo missions. It might
have spurred interest in psychedelic drugs when it published a generally
positive article on Magic Mushrooms,
by a New York advertising executive which led Sandoz Labs to isolate and patent psilocybin to add to its portfolio that already included LSD. It also showed the dark side of heroin addiction in a series of photo-essays that inspired the film
Panic
in Needle Park. A new generation
of war correspondents captured the bloody
horror of Vietnam while others captured brewing rebellion in the streets.
But
with the growing competition of television,
LIFE’s fortunes were on the wane.
In the late ‘60’s the magazine geared
up expanded coverage of Hollywood and
celebrities to lure readers. Emblematic was the coverage of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton’s hot romance on the set of the epic Cleopatra. The generous
use of more and more color
photography crowded out traditional black-and-white photos on the
magazine’s interior. Both moves boosted sales, but the magazine was, depending on who was telling the story,
either loosing money or becoming unattractive to advertisers interested
younger readers.
Time-Life pulled the plug on the weekly
in 1972. Two years later it launched People,
supposedly inspired by the popular
section of the same name in flagship magazine Time, but also picking up the tradition of photo-heavy celebrity
coverage from the last days of LIFE.
LIFE was still a valuable name. The publisher
issued occasional LIFE Special Reports such as The Spirit of Israel, Remarkable
American Women and The Year in Pictures from
1972-1978. The continuing brisk news
stand sales of these special editions
helped bring about a rebirth of the magazine as a monthly in 1978. For the
next 22 years it bumped along as a moderately successful general interest
magazine. High points of this incarnation included a special 50th anniversary issue featuring reproductions of every cover of the
magazine, a brief four issue return to weekly publication as LIFE
Goes to War during the 1991Gulf War,
and a series on the most important
people and most important events
of the millennium.
Deciding that the days of the general
interest magazine were over, Time-Life killed the magazine again in 2000 to
concentrate on a gaggle of newly
acquired special interest niche magazines like Golf, Skiing, Field & Stream, and Yachting.
LIFE would have one more ignominious revival as regular
periodical. From 2002-2007 it was
converted into a weekly newspaper
supplement to compete with well established Parade and USA
Weekend. The flimsy rag was barely a ghost of its illustrious past. By the time it was unceremoniously discontinued, it had shrunk to twenty 9½ x 11½ inch
pages of celebrity twaddle.
LIFE lives on, sort of, as a
web page. Agreements with Google and Getty Images
have made the magazine’s archives,
including hundreds of thousands of unpublished
photographs available on line. And
the LIFE name continues to be used for special issues.
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