The magnificent Jane Bown, the Observer’s veteran and legendary photographer who recently said: “I spent my whole life worrying about time and light,” has died just four months short of her 90th birthday. The Observer editor, John Mulholland, called her “part of the Observer’s DNA”.
She joined the Observer in 1949, and resisting all offers from other prospective employers, continued to appear in the office every week for more than half a century, meekly waiting for assignments, and turning in dazzlingly beautiful images for news stories. She was particularly well known for her portraits of the rich, famous, infamous and unknown, including the Queen, playwright Samuel Beckett, the dancer Rudolf Nureyev, the Beatles, and the artist Francis Bacon sitting in shoulder-high litter in his studio.
Although by then too frail to take photographs, she last appeared in the Observer offices last August.
Mulholland called her one of the greatest photographers of her generation.
“During more than 50 years working for the Observer, she produced some of the most memorable and insightful images of prominent cultural and political figures taken during the 20th century – from the Queen to the Beatles, Samuel Beckett to Bjork, John Betjeman to Bob Hope, her beautifully observed pictures have become part of our cultural landscape. She is part of the Observer’s DNA – her contribution to the paper’s history, as well to Britain’s artistic legacy, is immense, and will long survive her. She was loved by her colleagues and adored by our readers. We will miss her hugely.”
Her motto was “photographers should neither be seen nor heard”, she carried her camera in a wicker basket, worked without extra lights, and liked to be done and dusted within 10 minutes. In those minutes she created legendary portraits including Beckett, glaring like a caged eagle, whom she cornered in an alley beside the Royal Court theatre as he tried to make his escape.
When other photographers were selling their archives for small fortunes, she donated hers to the Guardian. Archivist Luke Dodd, who became her friend, and biographer in a recent film made with Michael Whyte, said she was without vanity. “It was always about the picture, not about her, and she worked with what she had. That famous Beckett image, which has been reproduced so many times, was the third of five frames.”
She had been frail for some time, and in hospital after a recent fall, but died on Sunday at her beloved home in Hampshire, with members of her family around her.
“She was herself to the last. I was speaking to her yesterday,” Dodd said. “ I said I might come down on Monday, and asked her daughter who would be there. This little voice came from the background and she said “not me”.”
