Richard Corman
Madonna, 2013
Color photographic monotype on archival pigment paper
Hand signed, dated and numbered 1/1 by Richard Corman on the front
26 × 20 inches
Unique
Unframed
This unique archival pigment print (numbered 1/1) was based upon a photograph taken by legendary portrait photographer Richard Corman, which was later hand embellished in acrylic by artist Alec Monopoly. That original work is reproduced in the monograph Richard Corman – Madonna NYC ’83 published by Damiani in 2013. This print is numbered 1/1 and is hand signed by Richard Corman.
The photograph of Madonna was taken during Richard Corman's historic photoshoot in the early 1980s, and it was reprinted in 2013. Richard Corman's famous photographs of Madonna during that period have been reproduced in books, magazines, tv clips and newspapers - and are considered the most iconic images ever taken of The Material Girl. We are incredibly honored to be exclusively offering this unique print for the very first time -- in honor of her 65th birthday.
Here, Madonna is just a natural beauty, youthful, confident, vulnerable, natural, and extraordinarily poised. The photograph was taken while she was on the cusp of superstardom, but still anxious, striving, going on casting calls, and waiting for her big break.
In his own words, photographer Richard Corman describes how this famous photo shoot came about:
My mother was Cis Corman, a renowned casting director in New York City. In the summer of 1982 she was casting The Last Temptation of Christ for Martin Scorsese and called me to say they had just tested a girl for the part of the Virgin Mary. She said, “You must meet this girl — she’s an original.” I was 28 and had just finished an apprenticeship with Richard Avedon and was looking for interesting people to shoot. So I got this girl’s number and called. It was Madonna. At the time she was living in Alphabet City [Lower East Side of Manhattan], and she suggested I go to her apartment and chat about what I wanted to do. I had to call her from a phone booth across the street, because the neighborhood was full of drug dealers, and they didn’t let people just walk in and out. There was a group of kids outside the building, on the stoop, in the hallways, and when I said I was there for Madonna the seas parted. I looked up the staircase, and I saw this girl leaning over the edge of the banister, and even from three stories below I could see these catlike eyes just looking down. I knew at that moment that she had something special — I really did. She had her best friend and neighbor, Martin, with her — he later died of AIDS—and we sat and talked. She served me a cup of coffee on a silver tray with three pieces of Bazooka bubblegum. There was no pretense to it. When I came back a few days later to shoot her, she said, “You know, we should go up to the roof because I go up there with all the kids from the building.” She was like the Pied Piper of the neighborhood — they loved her. They followed her, they danced with her, they sang with her. It was something they did on a daily basis, and it was remarkable. We just walked up and they gathered around. She put the boom box on — it was her music, though I don’t remember which song — and they just started dancing and singing. She was so alive and unpretentious. She was fierce, determined. Nothing was going to stop her.
After we came down from the rooftop, we walked through the neighborhood, laughing and chatting, stopping in front of a storefront that you see in one of the shots, stopping in front of a senior
citizen’s home...