Dark Lady

The first celebrity that I remember noticing was Johnny Cash.  Apparently I saw him in person from up in the stands at the Leaky Tepee in West Palm Beach when I was too young to remember.  I can picture myself holding Daddy's hand and walking up the steps, and later looking down while holding a banister to see The Man in Black below.  But those might not be memories.  I had forgotten there was a tv show, but of course that's why I liked him.  I wanted to be Johnny Cash or be like him because that would mean I was closer to the first celebrity I actually remember; Cher.

Cher was on tv too and I remember that a little more distinctly.  But mostly it's one album, and one photo that symbolized her to me around the time of second or third grade.  I always thought it was kindergarten, but today I notice the album is copywritten in 1974, so it had to be at least that late before she found herself in my hands.

I can't find a photo that does the album cover justice.  Here her waist and hips are rather thin, but in the one I hold in my hand the waist seems impossibly so and she's long and thin like Barbie's evil twin.  Here, the top of the photo is cutting off the very top of her hair.  In the one I have in front of me, she's centered just right.  Of course it seems just right to me since I spent hours gazing at it. 

There's the hairline which is surprisingly asymmetrical at least in shadow, as I've known for decades.  And then there are the details I notice perhaps for the first time today.  The photo is perfect but invites study.  The eyebrow is higher on the side where the hairline is higher.  The shadows on the cheeks are different.  Are the lips straight or are they not in that mannequin stare with the same blank expression as the cat?  They don't share the same eyes but they see the same thing in the same way.  They are self-aware in the same way.  Her hair has a few strays and provides the visual balance for the cat on the top left of her upper half; cat on top left and hair on bottom right.  Today I notice her neck is long- of course it is but it's mainly in shadow.  Her upper arm looks soft and not bony.  In contrast with her legs her arm has a pleasant amount of substance.  She's the definition of statuesque and I don't think a bulldozer could knock her over.

Today I notice that there is only one bracelet.  I've seen the glimmer from the lights there and on the black parts of the shoes for decades but today I notice that there are no other adornments- odd for a gypsy woman I think as I look today.  No earrings, no nose-ring (I wonder if she ever wore one- at least for photos) no headdress or tiara or visible rings or any metal or sequins on the dress.  I have to say the shoes look clunky to me today but I think the jewelry or lack is the perfect choice.  As a third grader I took these items for what they were- unquestioned aspects of the perfect photograph.  Today I notice that it's Richard Avedon and the dress is Calvin Klein.  I didn't know who those names were at the time, and noticing them now I find them odd as a pair.  That dress is by him?  It's got fringe and the hip cutout seems perfect for her but odd for him.  Having known of this photo long before I held any recognition for those two masculine names I question what I do actually know of them.

On the front of the album and the back I find the perfect use of font in both black and white.  Her name; that one word, has the suggestion of one of those accent line thingees like on the end of French words such as Renee.  This was one of my first contacts with the idea of font.  But these seventies examples abound in memory on Yellow Submarine, ABC after-school specials, Wonder Woman, comics, lunchboxes for the Jackson 5 and others and any tv title sequence.

Here we have the use of double lines- one thicker than the other- which I always associate with a show- Broadway, tophats, electric lights... and that idea is emphasized by underlining her name.  The other font below has the touch of red and idiosyncratic lower case i's and the swashy lower case h's and f's.  On the back in the white it's shown off by the contrast with the regular looking song list text and that tiny logo which intrigues me still; the man almost behind the scenes depicted in the tiny circle: Al Capps- written in of course, ALL CAPS.

 Here you can see his logo but on the Dark Lady record cover it provides the perfect foil for the larger Cher cartouche at the top.  She's on top and large, he's on bottom and hideous.  Does anyone really look like that?  Did she ever look like she looks?  Today I find the nails too much like claws but the overall effect is not as witchy as I once found it.  Sure she's being glammed up as a dark figure but it's not morbid at all and it's not goth.  Before any hint of those other Armenians she didn't have to differentiate her dark haired beauty from theirs by going blond.