An Image of Innocence Abroad

Neither photographer Ruth Orkin nor her subject Jinx Allen realized the stir the collaboration would make

  • By David Schonauer
  • Smithsonian magazine, October 2011, Subscribe
View More Photos »
Ruth Orkin and Jinx Allen
"Luminescent and, unlike me, very tall" is how photographer Ruth Orkin described her friend, then know as Jinx Allen. (Ruth Orkin Archive)

Photo Gallery (1/3)

Ruth Orkin and Jinx Allen

Explore more photos from the story

More from Smithsonian.com


(Page 2 of 2)

Within photography circles, Orkin’s famous image also became a focal point for decades of discussion over the medium’s sometimes troubling relationship with truth. Was the event she captured “real”? Or was it a piece of theater staged by the photographer? (In some accounts, Orkin asked the man on the Lambretta to tell the others not to look into her camera.) The answer given by historians and critics is usually hazy, perhaps necessarily so: They have spoken of “gradations of truth” and Orkin’s career-long search for “emotional reality.” But photographs, deservedly or not, carry the promise of literal truth for most viewers; disappointment follows the discovery that beloved pictures, such as Robert Doisneau’s Kiss by the Hotel de Ville, were in any way set up.

Does it matter? Not to Ninalee Craig. “The men were not arranged or told how to look,” she says. “That is how they were in August 1951.”

David Schonauer, former editor in chief of American Photo, has written for several magazines.


After spending a madcap day in Florence 60 years ago, Ruth Orkin, an American photographer, jotted in her diary: “Shot Jinx in morn in color—at Arno & Piazza Signoria, then got idea for pic story. Satire on Am. girl alone in Europe.” That’s all it was supposed to be.

“It was a lark,” says the woman at the center of Orkin’s picture story. Nonetheless, one of the images they made together, American Girl in Italy, would become an enduring emblem of post-World War II femininity—and male chauvinism.

The American girl, Ninalee Craig, was 23 years old and, she says, a “rather commanding” six feet tall when she caught Orkin’s eye at the Hotel Berchielli, beside the Arno, August 21, 1951. A recent graduate of Sarah Lawrence College in Yonkers, New York, she was then known as Jinx (a childhood nickname) Allen, and she had gone to Italy to study art and be “carefree.” Orkin, the daughter of silent-film actress Mary Ruby and model-boat manufacturer Sam Orkin, was adventurous by nature; at age 17, she had ridden a bicycle and hitchhiked from her Los Angeles home to New York City. In 1951, she was a successful 30-year-old freelance photographer; after a two-month working journey to Israel, she’d gone to Italy.

Before she died of cancer in 1985, at age 63, Orkin told an interviewer she had been thinking of doing a photo story based on her experiences as a woman traveling alone even before she arrived in Florence. In Allen, she found the perfect subject—“luminescent and, unlike me, very tall,” as she put it. The next morning, the pair meandered from the Arno, where Orkin shot Allen sketching, to the Piazza della Repubblica. Orkin carried her Contax camera; Allen wore a long skirt—the so-called New Look introduced by Christian Dior in 1947 was in full swing—with an orange Mexican rebozo over her shoulder, and she carried a horse’s feed bag as a purse. As she walked into the piazza, the men there took animated notice.

When Orkin saw their reaction, she snapped a picture. Then she asked Allen to retrace her steps and clicked again.

The second piazza shot and several others were published for the first time in the September 1952 issue of Cosmopolitan magazine, as part of a story offering travel tips to young women. Although the piazza image appeared in photography anthologies over the next decade, for the most part it remained unknown. Orkin married filmmaker Morris Engel in November 1952 and expanded her career to include filmmaking. Jinx Allen spent a few years as a copywriter at the J. Walter Thompson advertising agency in New York, married a Venetian count and, after their divorce, married Robert Ross Craig, a Canadian steel industry executive, and moved to Toronto. Widowed in 1996, today she has four stepchildren, ten grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.

A quarter-century after it was taken, Orkin’s image was printed as a poster and discovered by college students, who decorated countless dorm-room walls with it. After years lying dormant, an icon was born. In its rebirth, however, the photograph was transformed by the social politics of a post-“Mad Men” world. What Orkin and Allen had conceived as an ode to fun and female adventure was seen as evidence of the powerlessness of women in a male-dominated world. In 1999, for example, the Washington Post’s photography critic, Henry Allen, described the American girl as enduring “the leers and whistles of a street full of men.”

That interpretation bewilders the subject herself. “At no time was I unhappy or harassed in Europe,” says Craig. Her expression in the photo is not one of distress, she says; rather, she was imagining herself as the noble, admired Beatrice from Dante’s Divine Comedy. To this day she keeps a “tacky” postcard she bought in Italy that year—a Henry Holiday painting depicting Beatrice walking along the Arno—that reminds her “of how happy I was.”

Within photography circles, Orkin’s famous image also became a focal point for decades of discussion over the medium’s sometimes troubling relationship with truth. Was the event she captured “real”? Or was it a piece of theater staged by the photographer? (In some accounts, Orkin asked the man on the Lambretta to tell the others not to look into her camera.) The answer given by historians and critics is usually hazy, perhaps necessarily so: They have spoken of “gradations of truth” and Orkin’s career-long search for “emotional reality.” But photographs, deservedly or not, carry the promise of literal truth for most viewers; disappointment follows the discovery that beloved pictures, such as Robert Doisneau’s Kiss by the Hotel de Ville, were in any way set up.

Does it matter? Not to Ninalee Craig. “The men were not arranged or told how to look,” she says. “That is how they were in August 1951.”

David Schonauer, former editor in chief of American Photo, has written for several magazines.


Single Page « Previous 1 2

    Subscribe now for more of Smithsonian's coverage on history, science and nature.



 

Add New Comment


Name: (required)

Email: (required)

Comment:

Comments are moderated, and will not appear until Smithsonian.com has approved them. Smithsonian reserves the right not to post any comments that are unlawful, threatening, offensive, defamatory, invasive of a person's privacy, inappropriate, confidential or proprietary, political messages, product endorsements, or other content that might otherwise violate any laws or policies.

Comments (7)

I was looking for black and white vintage photos to hang in my new trendy wine and beer bar in Cincinnati. I came across Ruth Orkin's photo in 2009 and it made me smile. I hung it in the men's room and it has become a conversation piece. Men and women alike venture into the men's room to take a look at Jinx Allen bustling along the street. There is always a banter of opinions. I plan to frame this article and hang it on the opposite wall to substantiate what the two women had done. It still makes me smile. PS Is it possible to get cut sheets of this article so that I could frame it?

Posted by Marty Weldishofer on May 14,2012 | 12:31 AM

I appreciate this article very much. There is one point made by the author regarding the original artistic intent being one of a young womans excitement and sense of adventure and the spin that was later put on it later on interpreting the image as evidence of a woman's powerlessness in a male dominated world. This point seems so relevant to me in light of the larger discussions that are happening in the world with now regarding a woman's power. Interesting to look at how our gender and sexuality plays a part. Great article!

Posted by Alisha P. on March 6,2012 | 03:39 PM

Was in Florence this past summer on vacation. The very street corner where this photo was taken can easily be seen as it is today using Google Earth Street view.

Hint: It's close to 5 Via Roma, Florence, Tuscany, Italy

Posted by sparcboy on January 26,2012 | 01:27 PM

I like the photo and it representation. I hope there willbe more long the same line. BudF

Posted by BUDF on October 16,2011 | 04:53 PM

If I place myself in Jinxs' place in that picture, I feel intensely uncomfortable and even scared. Seen in the context of a world full of sexual violence, it should be obvious what this image represents - the woman as freely expoitable object with no right to personal privacy. Sure it's nice to have a casual fliratation with an individual, it can make your day but I assure you it's not fun to be so closely scrutinised in this way. Now I am older, I no longer get this kind of attention but I found it deeply invasive and threatening when I did.

Posted by Margaret Walker on October 5,2011 | 05:09 AM

My goodness. That contemporary photo of the 83 year old Ms Ninalee Craig is every bit as stunning as the 1951 version of her. What a timeless beauty.

Posted by Douglas Morris on September 25,2011 | 11:17 PM

I grant that I personally would not enjoy the kind of attention 'Jinx' is getting, but all women are not like me, here are those who enjoy turning heads and even wolf whistles and a woman who is fully as tall if not taller then the men admiring her probably does not feel vulnerable. As the model herself says she *enjoyed* being looked at, consciously beautiful women often do.

Posted by Roxana Cooper on September 23,2011 | 10:53 AM



Advertisement


Advertisement

Follow Us





First Name
Last Name
Address 1
Address 2
City
State   Zip
Email


Travel with Smithsonian




Smithsonian Store