Page 105 – LIFE

Mia Farrow, 1967: Classic Photos of an Actress on the Rise

January 9, 2023February 6, 2014 by

Mia Farrow was 22 years old when LIFE magazine ran a seven-page cover story on the actress in May 1967. She was married to Frank Sinatra (he was 30 years her senior, and the marriage lasted less than two years) and at the time was best-known for her work on TV: she was a regular on the classic prime-time soap opera, Peyton Place. But LIFE’s decision to feature the young Los Angeles native proved prescient; within a year she was receiving raves for performances in several prominent films—including the Roman Polanski horror classic, Rosemary’s Baby.

She would go on to a decades-long career as an award-winning actress and an outspoken, fearless campaigner for human rights. Beyond her acting, Ms. Farrow has been a recurring figure in the news because of accusations by her adopted daughter, Dylan, that Woody Allen sexually abused her when she was a child, at a time when Allen and Ms. Farrow were in a long-term relationship. Woody Allen has always denied the charges, while Ms. Farrow has never wavered in her support of Dylan’s claims. Ms. Farrow is also the mother of Ronan Farrow, a journalist whose investigative reporting has been a driver of the #MeToo movement.

In that cover story from 1967, though, the photos are notably light, as Farrow freely clowned for the camera in many shots, and the focus of the story was on her youth, beauty, talent and mystery. As LIFE wrote:

There are these positive statements you can make about Mia Farrow: she is 22; she weighs 99 pounds; she is 5 feet 5 1/2 inches tall; she has less hair than Ringo Starr; she is annoyed that people in London mistake her for Twiggy; she is married to Frank Sinatra.

Beyond such unarguable specifics lies her shapeless world — a place of surmise so fascinatingly complex and maddeningly naive that Sinatra could fathom it only by marrying into it. And ever since the surprising match was made the public has been stuck on the nagging question, “What is Mia Farrow really like?”

The feature goes on to paint a picture of a whip-smart, self-deprecatingly funny daughter of Hollywood (her mother was the famous actress Maureen O’Sullivan, her dad was Oscar-winning writer and director John Farrow)—a woman barely out of her teens yet worldly enough to say of her superstar husband, Sinatra: “He’s an artist. He’s groovy, he’s kinky and—above all—he’s gentle.”

Here, LIFE.com features a series of photographs—most of them never published in LIFE—that feel, in more ways than we can count, as if they were made not only in another time, but in another world.

Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.

Mia Farrow on the set of the film, A Dandy in Aspic, London, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

On a lark in London, Farrow borrowed a construction lantern.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Farrow looked at off-beat antiques while searching for a gift for her husband, Frank Sinatra. She ended up buying him a $2,240 gazebo.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow in London, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow and A Dandy in Aspic co-star Laurence Harvey, London, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow in London, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow and A Dandy in Aspic co-star Laurence Harvey, London, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey, London, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow, Laurence Harvey and A Dandy in Aspic director Anthony Mann, 1967.

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Mia Farrow mocked A Dandy in Aspic co-star Laurence Harvey for his long hair and the length of time he spent with make-up, when all she did was dab her own eyes.

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Between scenes of A Dandy in Aspic, Mia wrestled with co-star Laurence Harvey

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Mia Farrow and director Anthony Mann, 1967.

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Mia Farrow, 1967.

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Farrow told director Anthony Mann, ‘I don’t want to be me on screen.’ Mann said of Farrow, ‘She’s marvelous—my main problem is not to change her an inch.”

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Mia Farrow, 1967.

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Mia Farrow with co-stars on the set of A Dandy in Aspic, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey, 1967.

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Mia Farrow, 1967.

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Mia Farrow on set, 1967.

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Mia Farrow on the set of A Dandy in Aspic, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey on the set of A Dandy in Aspic, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey (left), 1967.

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Mia Farrow, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey, London, 1967.

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Mia Farrow, 1967.

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Mia Farrow, London, 1967.

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Mia Farrow, 1967.

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Mia Farrow in Geneva, 1967.

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On Swiss estate of her friend Yul Brynner, Mia romped with his five-year-old daughter, Victoria.

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Mia Farrow and Yul Brynner’s daughter, Victoria, Switzerland, 1967.

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Mia Farrow, Switzerland, 1967.

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Mia Farrow on Lake Geneva in Switzerland, 1967.

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Mia Farrow and Laurence Harvey, 1967.

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Mia Farrow at home in London, 1967.

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At the Sinatras’ Grosvenor Square residence in London (other addresses: Paris, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, New York, Miami and Las Vegas), Mia Farrow wore Cardin original before the gala premiere of ‘Taming of the Shrew.’

Bill Eppridge/Life Pictures/Shutterstock

Fashion Flashback: Givenchy, 1952

November 2, 2020February 6, 2014 by

French designer Hubert de Givenchy rose to fame in the 1950s, but his elegant, feminine aesthetic continues to reverberate in fashion.

Raised in an aristocratic family that valued artistic pursuits, Givenchy journeyed to Paris in 1944 and by the early “50s had established a couture house of his own. While responsible for many sartorial innovations, such as the easy shape of the sack dress and the raw cotton Bettina blouse, he is best known for his strong professional relationship with Audrey Hepburn at the height of her Hollywood glamour days. In addition to outfitting her in films like Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Charade, Givenchy also featured Hepburn in his fragrance ads, making him one of the first designers to use a celebrity spokesperson.

While Givenchy himself retired from designing in 1995, his namesake house remains at fashion’s forefront. Here, LIFE looks back at the young Givenchy during the nascent days of his storied label.

Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.

Designer de Givenchy (right) and a fitter studied the effect in a mirror of hat tried on by his partner Bettina between her publicity chores.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Givenchy style, 1952.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A lace ball gown was one of styles which showed De Givenchy could do bigger things than gimmicks. A copy of this dress was scheduled to be sold for $250 at Wanamaker’s department store in Philadelphia.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

High buttoned cuffs with black-embroidered ruffles falling over them were one of many De Givenchy treatments of a big sleeve in 1952. Worn by Bettina, this cotton shirt was called Blanchisseuse (Washerwoman). It was to be copied by Russeks, New York, for $10.95.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Givenchy’s designs specialized in separates like these three tops and skirts that could be used interchangeably to make nine outfits.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Givenchy style, 1952.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Bettina modeled a shantung dress with tweed jacket for a press show. By end of the showings that year, every single outfit in the Givenchy collection was sold.

Nat Farbman The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

William S. Burroughs in Paris: Rebel, Junkie, Exile, Genius

January 13, 2023February 4, 2014 by

The American writer, painter and spoken-word pioneer William S. Burroughs on Feb. 5, 1914, in St. Louis. He died — after an improbably long life, considering the self-inflicted abuse he endured through the years — at 83 in Lawrence, Kansas. It’s somehow perversely appropriate that an iconoclast of Burroughs’ power and scope, who so brutally skewered middle-class hypocrisy in so many of his works, lived a life that began and ended in the middle of middle America.

Born into a wealthy Missouri family, Burroughs attended Harvard (as well as medical school in Vienna) and was, seemingly, on track for a relatively unadventurous life and career. But in the 1940s—having been rejected by the U.S. Navy in the middle of World War II—he set a far different course for himself. He became a heroin addict. In New York, he met and influenced Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and the biggest voices of the Beat generation. In 1951, in Mexico City, he shot and killed his common-law wife, Joan Vollmer, in what was reportedly a drunken, catastrophic game of William Tell gone wrong. Ultimately convicted in absentia of homicide (he had fled back to the States by then) and given a two-year suspended sentence, the scarred Burroughs embarked on the journeys—London, Paris (where the photos in this gallery were made in 1959), the Amazon, Tangier and beyond—that would shape and define so much of the rest of his life.

And always, everywhere, he wrote. He wrote short stories, essays and hilarious, harrowing, difficult, indispensable novels. Junkie (later Junky), Naked Lunch, The Ticket That Exploded and other classics established him as a singular force in the postmodern cultural landscape. Other writers sang his praises, with some—like J.G. Ballard—arguing that Burroughs was the premier writer of the post-war age. (Many critics, on the other hand, weren’t quite so impressed, especially when the revolutionary cut-up technique Burroughs employed when constructing many of his books made their heads spin.)

Later in life, Burroughs became something of an éminence grise of the post-punk demimonde, collaborating with Sonic Youth, Nick Cave, the experimental English “noise” collective, Throbbing Gristle, and many others. His influence on music, literature and the visual arts can’t be overstated.

Many artists are desperate to be seen as rebels; in Burroughs, we find the unlikely real deal: the born rebel who could never stop creating art.

Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter @lizabethronk.

William S. Burroughs in Paris, 1959—the year his novel Naked Lunch was published.

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William S. Burroughs with unidentified companions in a Paris cafe, 1959.

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William S. Burroughs at his typewriter, Paris, 1959.

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William S. Burroughs with his frequent collaborator, the English artist Brion Gysin, in Gysin’s Paris studio, 1959.

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William S. Burroughs, Paris, 1959.

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William S. Burroughs in his room at the Beat Hotel, Paris, 1959.

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The Groundhog: An Appreciation

August 11, 2021February 2, 2014 by

Some call it a woodchuck. Others prefer the more evocative title, “whistle-pig.” But for most of us — and certainly for those who turn their gaze toward Gobbler’s Knob, Pa., in the first week of February each year — the squinty-eyed, sharp-toothed creature in the picture above is, and always will be, a groundhog.

With Groundhog Day upon us — when the most famous groundhog of them all, Punxsutawney Phil, emerges from his burrow and either sees his shadow, or doesn’t — we thought we’d take a moment to praise the often-maligned and largely misunderstood marmot. For example, far from the soft, doughy layabout of popular myth, the groundhog in the wild is an active animal (a single groundhog moves an average of 700 pounds of dirt when excavating a burrow); a fierce defender of its own territory; and a skilled tree-climber — when pursued by predators, at least.

Groundhogs also have a charming habit of whistling when alarmed — hence the whistle-pig moniker — and they really, really like to eat. The average groundhog will consume enough grass, grains, fruit and other non-meat foodstuffs that, if he or she was a 175-pound person, it would be the equivalent of eating a 15-pound salad. Every single day.

We could go on and on, extolling the virtues of the groundhog — and, admittedly, outlining the reasons why lots of people, especially farmers, can’t stand them — but it’s almost time for Phil to make his entrance, and we don’t want to miss it. This winter can’t end soon enough for us.

Happy Groundhog Day.

Groundhog

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Winter Olympics Flashback: Innsbruck, 1964

August 11, 2021February 1, 2014 by

Much has changed about the Olympics since 1964. Only 38 countries participated back then, compared to 92 at the 2018 in South Korea. The country that was the big medal winner in the 1964 Games, the USSR, has long since been broken up. Snowboarding and other more modern sports that highlight today’s Games had yet to be added to the competition.

And yet — some elemental things about the Olympics remain the same. Here, in photos made by LIFE’s Ralph Crane, George Silk and Paul Schutzer, we see the same intensity in the athlete’s faces, the same striving for excellence, that we see every four years in both the summer and winter Olympiads. We see the same spirit of togetherness that seems to win out—however briefly—over the constant drumbeat of nationalism. In short, we see many of the same familiar, comforting scenes that greet us every time the Olympics, however modernized, roll around. And maybe that’s why, in the end, we like the Games so much: because in the midst of all the drama about who will win what event, and by what margin, so much about the Games remains the same.

A ski jumper soared at the 1964 Winter Olympics

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At the opening ceremonies for the Innsbruck Games, before 55,000 onlookers, athletes took the Olympic oath in the arena below the ski jump.

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Opening ceremonies at the 1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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Austrian alpine skier Josl Rieder lit the Olympic flame during the opening ceremonies of the 1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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A scene from the 1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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A parking lot at the 1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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Figure skaters at the 1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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The 1964 Winter Olympics at Innsbruck, Austria.

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1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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Happy fans and autograph-seekers at the 1964 Winter Olympics in Innsbruck, Austria.

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Medal ceremony, 1964 Winter Olympics, Innsbruck, Austria.

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1964 Winter Olympics at Innsbruck, Austria.

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A team photo of American skiers at the 1964 Innsbruck Winter Olympics, including medalists Jean Saubert (front row, center), Jimmie Heuga (front, far left) and Billy Kidd (front, far right).

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Antarctica’s Brutal Beauty: Portraits from the Bottom of the World

January 6, 2021January 31, 2014 by

In 1964, photographer Michael Rougier accompanied an expedition to the bottom of the world, where researchers planned to retrace the steps of Sir Ernest Shackleton’s legendary (and ill-fated) World War I-era Antarctic expedition. By the time LIFE magazine published his pictures in May 1965, the focus of the story had narrowed considerably — namely, Rougier’s photos appeared in an article about American and Russian scientists studying the navigational prowess of Adélie penguins. Along the way, he made countless pictures of the charming creatures and their cousins —Emperor penguins, for example—in their brutal, gorgeous natural habitat. Not incidentally, he also almost lost his life.

Just another assignment for a photojournalist whose talent was matched only by his versatility.

Born in England in June 1925, Rougier shot for LIFE for a quarter century, covering the Korean War, the Boy Scouts, drug-addled Japanese teens, the 1956 Hungarian revolution, horse racing and myriad other subjects. The pictures he made in Antarctica in 1964, meanwhile, remain among his most impressive: it’s hard to think of another photographer who, in black and white, could so neatly capture both the forbidding beauty of the great southern continent and the endearing quirkiness of its most famous residents.

At one point during the assignment, however, things went terribly wrong for Rougier, as he lost his footing and went sliding—for close to half a mile, out of control—down the side of a glacier. As his daughter Karen recently told LIFE.com, her dad managed to save himself. Barely.

“As a last gasp,” Karen Rougier says, “he threw his pick out to grab the ice, and that’s what kept him from sliding right off the edge of the glacier.”

Rougier was badly hurt in the accident, but after recovering he went on to complete many more assignments, for LIFE and other publications. Michael Rougier passed away in January 2012. A small peak near where he almost lost his life, east of Antarctica’s LaPrade Valley, was named Rougier Hill in tribute to him.

Liz Ronk edited this gallery for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.

Antarctica, 1964

Michael Rougier The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Antarctica, 1964.

Michael Rougier The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Original caption: “Scientists, helped by Navy personnel, carry boxed penguins to a Navy transport to be taken to a distant release point.”

Michael Rougier The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Antarctica, 1964.

Michael Rougier The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

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Antarctica’s Brutal Beauty: Portraits from the Bottom of the World

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