Here’s Some Old-Time Texas Football For You

The photos from the practices of the St. Mary’s Rattlers don’t look like your ordinary football photos, and there’s a reason for that. A few of them really.

The photos were taken by legendary LIFE photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt back in 1939, so the passage of time is certainly an issue. But even for football photos of that era, the look is unusually antique. The sparseness of the San Antonio setting also adds to their distinctive feel. But another factor is the unique background of the St. Mary’s squad.

LIFE visited St. Mary’s at a time when the football program was on the rise, and also on the rebound from extinction. The school has disbanded football from 1931 to 1935 during the depths of the Great Depression, and the team made its return largely thanks to entirely to the entrepreneurial spirit of a local oilman named John “Mose” Sims. Simms instigated the team’s return, and his role might be described as a hybrid between a coach, athletic director and booster gone wild. According to the school’s history of the team, “Simms would negotiate a deal with the University where he would field football and basketball teams in return for tuition, dormitory space and books for players.”

Sims also had the instincts of a showman, and it was his idea to dress the team in gaudy red-white-and-blue uniforms in honor of the Texas state flag, even though the school’s colors were blue and gold. (The team’s return in 1936 coincided with the Texas centennial). His attention-getting tactics clearly worked on the editors of LIFE, which devoted a couple pages on St. Mary’s in its Oct. 14, 1939 issue, right a feature on Alabama in a section on college football. The story, headlined “St. Mary’s of Texas Knows How to Round Up a Good Team” played to the image of the rugged Texan cowboy by showing Simms recruiting a steer-wrestler. (The story writer, lacking a crystal ball, did not mention what would become the most historic aspect of St. Mary’s football, which is that one of the programs early coaches was future president Dwight D. Eisenhower).

While LIFE declared that the school was “well on its way to becoming a national power,” the St. Mary’s football program did not last. Simms’ time with the team ended after the 1940 season, and while the Rattlers gave it another go in 1941, football ended with the start of World War II. Today the University competes in 12 sports, but football is not one of them.

The ephemeral nature of the program only adds to the particular mystique of Eisenstaedt’s photos. Instead of being part of a continuum—Alabama football, then and now—they represent a specific time and place, one where the uniforms were flamboyant, the landscape was sparse, and the athletes were young and lean. These pictures are what it would look like if you were trying to capture the essence of the sport of football when it was a lanky teenager, just starting to come into itself.

St. Mary’s football practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s football practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s football team, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

John Simms, the coach and creator of St. Mary’s football in the 1930s.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Henry Tutor, a St. Mary’s football player, worked as cowboy on home cattle ranch in Texas, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s football practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s football practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s Football Team, San Antonio

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s Football Team, San Antonio

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s Football Team, San Antonio

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Saint Mary’s football team practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Saint Mary’s Football Team

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Saint Mary’s football team practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s football team practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

St. Mary’s football practice, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Saint Mary’s football team lived in an unfinished qymnasium, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The team bus for St. Mary’s football, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Saint Mary’s team bus parked outside the school, San Antonio, 1939.

Alfred Eisenstaedt/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Beach Boys: From Surf Stardom to Musical Revolution

The following is adapted from the introduction to LIFE’s newly released special issue The Beach Boys: The Music, The Life, The Good Vibrations, available at newsstands and online:

The year was 1963, and the Beach Boys were already making waves with hits such as “Surfin'” and “Surfin’ U.S.A.”

Then one day Brian Wilson, the band’s co-founder and leading visionary, was driving when he screeched his car to the side of the road and cranked the volume on his AM radio.

Crackling through the static came Ronnie Spector’s voice, dripping in echo atop a lush dream of overlaid pianos, horns, castanets, and strings. She was singing, “Be my little baby, say you’ll be my darling, be my baby now.” 

Sitting behind the wheel, Brian, then 21 years old, locked into a tune like never before.  

I went, ‘My, god, wait a minute, no way!’” he remembered. “It was like getting your mind revamped. It’s like, once you’ve heard that record, you’re a fan forever.”  

The Ronettes’ “Be My Baby,” released in August 1963, epitomized the grandeur and aspirations of a handful of young pop-music auteurs. Ronnie sang, with equal parts sweetness and smokiness, a song written to capture the blooming age of the teenager. Phil Spector produced it to eclipse that age. In the decades ahead, the song would influence artists as diverse as Bob Seger and Lana Del Rey. But first, and most important, it cast its spell on Brian Wilson.  

When “Be My Baby” came out, the Beach Boys were already stars. Brian, along with brothers Dennis and Carl, cousin Mike Love, and neighborhood pal Al Jardine were providing the soundtrack to a national surf craze. The pop classics they had put on the radio would already have been enough to make a mark on music history.

But when Brian heard “Be My Baby,” it pushed the Beach Boys to redraw the boundaries of their music, and of rock and roll. Spector’s sound inspired Brian’s lavish productions and layered harmonies with his bandmates. In a few short years, they would graduate to songs that contained symphonies and albums organized by master plan. They were on their way to creating their masterpiece album Pet Sounds and singles such as “Good Vibrations” that would expand the possibilities of what popular music could be. Their art and craft would in turn influence the Beatles, the Who, Pink Floyd, and countless others.

Through the decades, the Beach Boys would flourish and flounder and face moments of tragedy and strife. They would also be appreciated, finally, as architects of innovation and experimentation, as well as the creators of many awesome pop hooks. It’s a story with more layers than music fans would have expected when they accepted that first invitation to come on a surfin’ safari with the Beach Boys.

The story is from LIFE’s new special issue The Beach Boys: The Music, The Life, The Good Vibrations. Here are a selection of photos from that issue.

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The Beach Boys joined Capitol Records for their first major-label deal in 1962. The group then included (left to right): Brian Wilson, Carl Wilson, Dennis Wilson, David Marks and Mike Love. Marks briefly performed with the group until he was replaced with the return of founding member Al Jardine..

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The Beach Boys posed with a Corvette in their first photo session since Al Jardine returned to the band in Novermber 1963. From left to right: Brian Wilson, Jardine, Dennis Wilson, Carl Wilson, and Mike Love.

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The Beach Boys (Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Dennis Wilson, Al Jardine and Carl Wilson) posed with Ed Sullivan after performing on his variety show in 1964.

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The Beach Boys performed on The Andy Williams Show in 1965.

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The Beach Boys in 1975, as the band headed into a turbulent period in which Brian Wilson would struggle with psychological demons and Mike Love would assert control over the group.

RB/Redferns/Getty Images

This 1990s version of the Beach Boys featured Al Jardine, Carl Wilson, Bruce Johnston, Brian Wilson and Mike Love.

L. Cohen/WireImage/Getty Images

Brian Wilson performed in 2006, during the ceremony for his induction into the UK Music Hall of Fame.

Samir Hussein/Getty Images

There’s Quaint, and Then There’s a Story on Phone-Obsessed Teens from 1956

In 2022 teenagers spending an average of seven hours a day engaged with their screens. There’s plenty of reason to wonder why this is ruinous—addictive algorithms, the highs and lows of being liked or ignored on social media, and so on.

But a LIFE photo essay from 1956 shows that while the power of the cellphone is new, the phenomenon of teenagers being addicted to phones goes back to the days of the rotary dial.

In 1956 LIFE staff photographer Grey Villet shot a photo essay documenting the teenage obsession with telephones. The subject was timely back them because the 1950s were the decade in which in became landlines became more common than not in American homes. Then as now, teenagers loved to use phones to connect with their friends.

Villet’s essay never ran in the magazine, so we don’t know much about the people in the story, including where they lived or their exact age. But Villet shot enough pictures of them away from home to confirm that they were high school students.

The details of their lives are secondary, though, to the landline era that Villet captured so vividly.

There’s the picture of a teenaged girl running down the stairs after her little brother has answered the phone. The photo captures the particular panic of a personal call being intercepted by a nosy sibling in the same home.

Another picture shows mother trying to wrest the receiver from a daughter who has been tying up the line. And another of a brother popping into her room, presumably checking to see when she will be done.

But Villet’s piece de resistance is a photo sequence of a teenage girl in her room, going through physical contortions over the course of a long phone conversation. She is on her back, then flipped over, legs akimbo. And then she slides halfway off the bed, and then all the way down to her floor. If George Balanchine had choreographed a ballet titled “Teenage Girl Talks on Phone, 1956” this is what it would look like.

That was all decades ago, and now the percentage of households with landline only is in the low single digits. Since 2014 households with only cellphones became the most common sort.

The most hilariously dated aspect of Villet’s 1956 essay is not the sight of an entire household sharing a phone that performs no additional functions. It’s the photos that Villet took of the kids outside the house. We see them at a basketball game, trying on a dress at a store, and at a school dance. It’s not clear exactly what the point of those shots was meant to be back then, but what stands out now is that these kids are enjoying all kinds of activities without a cellphone in sight.

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Photo essay on teenagers and telephones, 1956.

Grey Villet/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A Surreal and Starry Tour of The Universal Studio Lot

Universal has been around since the beginning of cinema. Founded in 1912, it is now the oldest surviving studio in the United States. The company has given us such memorable creations as Abbott and Costello, Norman Bates, E.T., the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park and the drivers of the Fast and Furious series, just to name a few.

Tourists wanting a peek behind the curtain of how movies are made have been flocking to the famous Universal Studios tour 1964. The year before that—and not long after the studio had been acquired by a new corporate overlord, MCA— LIFE photographer John Dominis took a personal journey around dream factory, and his pictures from that visit are delightfully surreal.

In one photo, extras in cowboy costumes ate lunch at the studio commissary while another Native American extra stood patiently behind them. In another, a man walked through the lot carrying boulders on his shoulders, looking like he was accomplishing some Herculean task when he was in fact carrying props made of rubber.

And what is more surreal that seeing the stars of the silver screen in everyday life. The photos of Cary Grant and of Gregory Peck seem to have been taken after Dominis bumped into these legendary leading men as they were walking about. Dominis also catches actors Tippi Hedren and Angie Dickinson at work. Hedren is in a screen test for the Alfred Hitchcock movie Marnie, while Dickinson is having makeup done, and that is likely the strangest picture of the bunch. A makeup artist is creating a mask for her, and the contrast between the cool glamour of the movie star and the disembodied faces from other masks looming behind her looks like it could be the setup for a horror film.

Dominis’s pictures hint at why the Universal tour remains such an attraction. In most businesses the rule is that you’re better off not knowing how the sausage is made, but movies are the exception. Going behind the scenes only deepens the attraction.

The Universal studio lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Actor Cary Grant at the Universal studio lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

WIth a commisary counter full of movie extras clad as cowboys. lone Native American extra Iron Eyes Cody stands waiting for a seat during lunch break in filming of a Western TV show at Universal Studios, 1963.

John Dominis/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Actress Tippi Hedren screen testing for Alfred Hitchcock’s movie Marnie at Universal Studios, 1963.

.John Dominis/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Makeup artist Bud Westmore prepared actress Angie Dickinson for mask-making at Universal City Studios in Los Angeles, California, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A prop man pulled a cart at the Universal studio lot, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A prop man pulled a car at the Universal lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A prop man pushed a stuffed lion at the Universal lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Men at work on the Universal lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Cats gathering for a feed at the Universal lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

The Universal studio lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Actor Gregory Peck, Universal studio lot, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

People traveling by wagons in a scene from a film at Universal studio lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A prop man carried large rubber rocks at the Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Prop men tossed a rubber rock at the Universal studio lot in Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A night view of the Universal studio lot, Hollywood, 1963.

John Dominis/LIfe Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Seeds of Inspiration: Wonderful Watermelon Moments

The watermelon is a big red signal of summer. And as the photo at the top of the story suggests, there is something inherently fun about this juicy and oversized fruit. In that photo from the old game show Play Your Hunch, the couple had to guess the weight of the watermelon, and you would be hard pressed to name anything else in the grocery aisle that would make the challenge as zany as that hefty—we’ll guess 19 pounds—piece of produce.

The wonderful watermelon popped up many times over the years in the pages of LIFE, and in all kinds of settings. It was once even the centerpiece of a boozy beach blowout.

A 1948 story in LIFE carried the oh-so-tantalizing title Fun on the Beach: Summer Finds Americans Shedding Clothing and Inhibitions at Seaside. The watermelon was the star of the party, as revelers turned it into a vehicle for alcohol. One caption spoke enviously of the young people “stretching out and sipping spiked watermelon punch.” The photos here give rich documentation of the party people arriving at the San Diego beach with watermelons in tow, infusing the watermelons with alcohol, and then drinking from the watermelons as day turned to night.

LIFE has on more than one occasion gone to the farms to show where these mighty melons are harvested. LIFE staff photographers Wallace Kirkland, chronicler of so many scenes of American agriculture, took photos of a watermelon harvest in Illinois in the 1940s, and the legendary Loomis Dean documented workers in the fields of Imperial Valley in Califlornia, showing in one beautiful picture how the laborers formed a human conveyer belt to help get the melons into the back of a truck.

In 1960 LIFE applied a deliriously dramatic headline, “Major Melon Massace in Metuchen” to the story of a watermelon eating contest in New Jersey. A local real estate agency had sponsored the contest in an example of old-school brand building. The photos, in addition to showing cute kids chomping away, show how watermelons have evolved between then and now, because all those melons had the black mature seeds that have all but been eliminated from the product on sale in today’s grocery stores. (Seedless watermelons, a testimony to the power fo plant breeding, began to take over the market in the 1990s, ). At the New Jersey contest those black seeds inspired gamesmanship among contests who picked them out before the contest’s official start. The story closed with a quote from one boy who hadn’t. He complained, “I swallowed so many seeds I’m going to grow a watermelon patch in my stomach.”

A spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

Allan Grant The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

A spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

Allan Grant The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

A spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

Allan Grant The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

A spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

Allan Grant The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

A spiked watermelon beach party in San Diego, 1948.

Allan Grant The LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Migrant workers harvesting watermelons in the Imperial Valley, California, 1947.

Loomis Dean/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Migrant workers harvesting watermelons in the Imperial Valley, California, 1947.

Loomis Dean/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Workers harvesting watermelons in the Imperial Valley, California, 1947.

Loomis Dean/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

An Illinois watermelon harvest, 1946.

Wallace Kirkland/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

A little boy eating watermelon by the handful while sitting on a pile of melons, 1946.

Wallace Kirkland/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon harvesting, 1943.

Wallace Kirkland/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon harvest, 1943.

Wallace Kirkland/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Scene from a watermelon harvest, 1943.

Wallace Kirkland/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon-eating contest, New Jersey, 1960

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

After the watermelon-eating contest, New Jersey, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon eating contest in New Jersey, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon contest, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon contest, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon contest, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon-eating contest, New Jersey, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Watermelon-eating contest winners Barbara Walp, 10, and Willy Jones, 13, were crowned king and queen of the watermelon festival by Miss New Jersey, Susan Barber, 1960.

Joe Scherschel/LIFE Picture Collection/Shutterstock

Leigh Wiener’s Art and Craft

Leigh Wiener was passionate about photography. He made a career of it, first of all, shooting more than 300 assignments for LIFE and many more for the Los Angeles Times and other publications. But he was an advocate for the craft as well. He was the creator and cohost of a television show called Talk About Pictures, devoted to the practice of photography. His guests were either fellow professional photographers or celebrities who liked to spend time behind the camera as well as in front of it, and the show aired from 1978 to ’82 on NBC regional affiliates and then on PBS. Wiener’s dedication to the finer points of the craft also comes through in his book How Do You Photograph People? which serves both a collection of his portrait work and also an instructional guide.

Wiener was born in Brooklyn in 1929 and built his career in Los Angeles. His range is such that he published a limited edition book on the death of Marilyn Monroe and also had an exhibition staged of the photos he took on the last day of Alcatraz Island. He died in 1993, from a rare skin disease that may have been the long-term result of his photographing atomic tests and other nuclear related subjects in the 1950s. His collections are managed by his son Devik, himself retired from a four-decade career working in lighting for film and television shows in Los Angeles.

Many of the stories about Leigh Wiener reflect a dedication to getting the picture right. Take the photo he shot of Simone Signoret at the 1960 Academy Awards, the moment before her name was announced as the winner of the Oscar for Lead Actress for her performance in Room at the Top. Photographers were not supposed to be in the auditorium at all, but Wiener had bribed his way into a light stand location with three bottles of Scotch. As he told the story on an episode of his television show, he snapped his photo at the moment the presenter was saying “And the winner is….” After the photo ran in LIFE, Wiener received a letter from Signoret, saying, “I think your photograph just goes to prove the old adage, that in moments of crisis, we reach for those things we treasure the most.”

Some photos here show how Wiener used his technical prowess to achieve artistic results. For instance, his dark, moody photo of John F. Kennedy was taken at 3:30 a.m. in April 1960, when the then-presidential candidate was on an airplane reviewing a speech, and they had just been served a late dinner of fish stew. The portrait captures the particular grind and loneliness of the quest for higher office. “How can you take a picture of me in this light with no lights or flash?” Kennedy asked. Wiener told Kennedy, “It’s the oysters.”

The actual explanation involved exposure time and a steady hand. Devik tells a story about a time his father was shooting in low light, and the subject was Miles Davis. They were in a dark club and Wiener wasn’t using a flash. The legendary jazz man questioned whether the pictures were going to come out. Wiener joked to Davis, “When you blow your horn, does anything come out?”

Wiener considered building a rapport with his subjects as important as knowing the technical aspects of his camera. Devik relates that when his father photographed art collector Norton Simon, he educated himself on Simon’s favorite painters, turning what was supposed to be a forty-minute photo session into one that lasted hours.

Wiener’s ability to find the best picture in any situation even extended to baby photos of Devik. Leigh Wiener recounted the story of the photo of Devik that appears below and in How Do You Photograph People? : “At four weeks old, I photographed him on a print-covered couch. I made a 16 x 20 enlargement of the print and, a month later, photographed Devik again, sitting on the couch in front of the first picture. Again, I made a 16 x 20 blow-up, and four weeks later he was back on the couch in front of this second picture. I repeated the procedure every month until I had a single photograph showing Devik from four to thirty weeks old……What started as a joke and changed into a challenge evolved into an idea that resulted in two pages in LIFE magazine.”

The story calls to mind what Leigh Weiner once identified in an interview as a guiding principle: it’s not the camera equipment or the situation that makes a defining picture. It’s the photographer.

French actress Simone Signoret sat in audience, hands at her breasts, at the 1960 Academy Awards as the presenter was about to announce that she had won the Oscar for Lead Actress for her performance in Room at the Top.

© Leigh Wiener

Lyndon Johnson as a presidential candidate, 1960. Photographer Leigh Weiner had prompted the pose by yelling, “Senator, I’m from LIFE. Look this way and pretend you’re president!”

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

John F. Kennedy reviewed a speech at 3:30 a.m. on an airplane flight during his presidential campaign in 1960.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

Miles Davis, 1961.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

Paul Newman, 1961.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

Duke Ellington, 1961.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

Alcratraz on its last day as a working prison, 1963.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

Actress Marilyn Monroe’s body being taken from her Los Angeles home after her death in 1962.

© Leigh Wiener

The body of actress Marilyn Monroe covered in a shroud in the back of a car being taken to the morgue, 1962.

© Leigh Wiener

A broker using binoculars to check the board for a phone client in the Hollywood offices of Merrill Lynch, Pierce, Fenner and Smith in 1960.

© Leigh Wiener

Actor Lorne Greene (left) talking with his broker in the Hollywood offices of Merrill Lynch, Pierce, Fenner and Smith in 1960.

© Leigh Wiener

Leigh Wiener made this picture by photographing his son Devik on a sofa at four weeks and then photographing him four weeks later with the previous photo, and repeating the process until Devik was 30 weeks old.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

Leigh Weiner teaching his class at UCLA Extension in March 1983.

Courtesy of the Leigh Wiener estate, © Leigh Wiener

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