On the Côte d'Azur as a photographer

Everyone who was anyone met here in the 1950s and 60s. No photographer documented the social and cultural life on the Côte d'Azur as comprehensively as Edward Quinn. How he became the chronicler of the stars, celebrities and artists of this era and what distinguishes the photojournalism of that time from today's.

Edward Quinn, 1995

I was born in Dublin in 1920 and, like many other young Irish people, I realised that one day I would leave the country. During the Second World War, I earned a living as a musician in a jazz band in Belfast. After narrowly surviving a German air raid in a church, I joined the British Royal Air Force and served as a radio navigator in Lancaster bombers. With peace came a new vocation: I navigated charter aircrafts on routes between Europe and Africa and in 1948 took part in the legendary Berlin Airlift during the Soviet blockade. In those days, my career path seemed to be mapped out. But when I met the Swiss woman Gret Sulser at the end of the 1940s and visited her in Monte Carlo, everything changed. With its timeless elegance, the Côte d'Azur had a special appeal for me – I was particularly captivated by the nostalgic grandeur of Monte Carlo with its dreamy harbour. At first I worked as a musician and performed under the name Eddy Quinero, Le célèbre Guitariste Electrique, in various bars and at dances. A friend lent me a Kodak folding camera, and I went around snapping away, capturing images for memory, unconsciously already in the style of a reporter.

The local newspapers ran stories about the celebrities and stars who liked to come to the French Riviera, which was still untouched by big tourism. I realised that it could be worth my while to earn a living as a photographer with pictures of these celebrities and learned everything I could about photography from books and photo magazines. A Kodak Retina camera and an old enlarger became my equipment, followed later by a Rolleiflex and then a Leica, the standard cameras for press photographers at the time. My small flat in the historic centre of Monaco was not far from the Prince's Palace. In the beginning, I developed and enlarged my pictures in the kitchen under difficult conditions. Every time my landlady wanted to prepare dinner, I had to move all my equipment out of the way. A local journalist introduced me to the basics of press photography. He explained to me, for example, how I could find out the whereabouts of those who were worth reporting on and how best to approach them. In addition to the local newspapers, Nice Matin and Espoir, I also read the English dailies to find out which celebrities were coming to the south. But I soon realised that this information was not enough. Some stars preferred to stay unrecognised in a hotel or private villa. So I gradually built up a network of obliging bartenders, secretaries, doormen and reception staff at the most luxurious hotels along the coast. They gave me tips and they knew that I wouldn't reveal their secrets. 

Photographing film actors offers one advantage: they are usually skilled at posing in front of the camera. But getting a picture that shows them as they really are backstage or away from the film set is more difficult.  Many of the stars I photographed in the 1950s were at the height of their careers. When they came to the Côte d'Azur, they were looking to relax - sometimes they brought their families with them.  The Hollywood stars in particular seemed to enjoy freeing themselves from the shackles of the studios and their agents. Nevertheless, it was by no means easy to interview or photograph them. It often took a lot of time and patience to gain their trust, and only rarely was I able to take pictures where I could freely arrange the scenery. I also worked without artificial light for portraits, at best with flash, but if possible I used the natural light available. This made the pictures more authentic and exclusive. 

There were a number of places where you could be sure of meeting a star. Large luxury hotels were particularly popular - the Hôtel de Paris in Monte Carlo, the Hôtel Negresco in Nice, the Hôtel du Cap d'Antibes and the Carlton Hotel in Cannes. The glittering gala evenings at the Sporting d'Eté in Monte Carlo during the summer and at the International Sporting Club in winter attracted the rich and famous, and most of them attended. Hollywood stars were often invited to perform or add glamour to the event. For years, I reserved Friday evenings for gala events in Monte Carlo. Photographers could work there without restrictions as long as they didn't disturb the guests.

This changed dramatically after the wedding of Prince Rainier and Grace Kelly in 1956, which was reported everywhere. From then on, international newspapers and magazines were interested in everything that happened in the Principality. Permission was now required for all official occasions and strict instructions applied. Press agents took over and it became extremely difficult to work as an independent reporter. 

In the fifties, film production flourished in the Victorine studios in Nice, the French Hollywood. Monsieur Clair, the director of the studios, would let me know when a scene with a famous actor or actress was being filmed. This is how my photos of the young Brigitte Bardot with her director and husband Roger Vadim, of Hitchcock and Grace Kelly during the filming of To Catch a Thief (1955); Frank Sinatra in Kings Go Forth (1958); Peter Ustinov in Lola Montès (1955) or David Niven, Jean Seberg and Deborah Kerr in Bonjour Tristesse (1958).

The Cannes Film Festival offered the opportunity to rub shoulders with a large number of stars from all over the world, but it was difficult for a reporter to have an exclusivity or a first story when working alongside a mob of fighting and shouting rivals: the paparazzi. During the fifties, this mob of photographers, mostly Italians, invaded Cannes at every film festival. They behaved like a posse, surrounding the actresses and starlets and barking out their orders so that even the most famous top stars obeyed. As they teamed up to stop other photographers from taking a picture, it was even harder to compete with them. While one of them cut off an actress to photograph her, the others blocked access as if to keep all the other photographers from their prey. Fortunately, I knew their strategies and usually managed to outsmart them. By using my various sources – the press agents, receptionists, friends – I had to try to anticipate where the stars would go. If I got a story first, even the paparazzi, with whom I was actually on good terms, were always ready to take credit.

Towards the end of the sixties, the character of the festival gradually changed. It became a combination of film screenings and a marketplace for distributors. The days when stars were really stars were over. A new system emerged in which press agents strictly regulated contact between their protégés and the press. It became almost impossible to work as an independent journalist. 

Another place on the coast where you could find at least one of the stars was Saint Tropez. The worldwide fame of this fishing town in the south of the Côte d'Azur dates back to the 1950s and is partly due to the new vehicle of freedom, the car. Of course, Brigitte Bardot also played a role in this. Until then, only a few artists and aristocrats had heard of this place and it was only visited by a small elite. Back then it was very difficult to get there – for a long time there had only been a rare bus service, or an old boat came over from St Raphael – but after mass tourism reached Saint Tropez in the 1950s, it was flooded with people, especially in summer, and lost its former charm. 

I loved meeting celebrities and stars, but above all I enjoyed the company of artists and captured them in photographs - including Picasso, Max Ernst, Salvador Dalí and Francis Bacon.

It was an exciting, unique time on the Riviera in the fifties and sixties, characterised by optimism about progress. As Shakespeare wrote: "All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances." The Côte d'Azur was one of the largest and most beautiful stages in the world at the time. Its performers were often magnificent and glamorous. Even though the curtain has fallen, the memories remain.