Word: newtons
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...didn't tell your record company what you were up to. I was afraid I'd end up doing, you know, Olivia Newton-John...
...frustrating romance with stuffy Charles Grodin. “At last, Mr. Wrong,” the video’s cover cries. Clayburgh cavorts and spars with bad boy Michael Douglas while struggling for a breakthrough proof that will, she insists, put her on par with Euclid and Newton...
...lived a life on the move, first as a young Jew fleeing from Hitler all the way to Australia, then as an ambitious photographer making his way back to the centers of the universe. His parents and brother escaped to Argentina with their lives and not much else. But Newton insists that once he was set loose on the world, he was always having a high time of it, a refugee libido forever being washed ashore into the arms of Mary or Dora or Louise...
Behind this book stand three centuries of the libertine memoir, including Casanova's Journal and the ribald passages of Boswell's. It's harder to play the lewd rascal these days without looking silly, what with 12-year-olds adding spaghetti straps to their back-to-school wardrobe, but Newton does it amusingly. As he capers from Singapore to Melbourne to London, we get glimpses of Anita, who couldn't have sex until handkerchiefs were hung over the saints' pictures in her bedroom, and Josette, who left lipstick smears across his white linen shorts. "Josette was unwilling to terminate...
Maybe we can. Looked at now, his pictures seem like late aftershocks of fascism. They just happened to blow up in the pages of Vogue. Newton's memoir all but laughs off the worst of Nazism, but leaf through his saw-toothed magazine work or climb the barbed wire of White Women, his first, unforgettable photo book, and you find yourself remembering what D.H. Lawrence said of Herman Melville: "Choosingly, he was looking for paradise. Unchoosingly, he was mad with hatred of the world." The Helmut Newton we meet in Autobiography is the one looking for paradise...