With his gregarious, big-hearted, outsize personality, photographer Frank Worth befriended Hollywood's biggest names in the 1940s and 1950s, gaining access to their most private moments. He bonded with James Dean over their mutual love of fast cars, hung out with Sinatra and the Rat Pack, took photos at Elizabeth Taylor's first wedding and charmed a young Marilyn Monroe.  He photographed the stars at work, at home and at play, from glitzy parties and awards shows to casual outings at Dodger Stadium and trips to Las Vegas. These weren't the cloak-and-dagger stalkerazzi photos of today; the stars enjoyed Worth's company and he had an instinctual knack for getting them to let their guards down or comfortable enough so that he could snap Rita Hayworth sunbathing in her garden.

Worth amassed an intimate pictorial history of Hollywood in the boxes strewn about his cramped apartment in West Hollywood--and that's where they remained, almost all unseen by the public, until he died at age 77 in 2000, close to penniless.

He was called a dreamer, an enigma, even a lunatic by family members who wondered why he didn't sell or exhibit the photographs that could have brought him worldwide renown and a financial windfall. But Worth considered these stars his friends and the photographs personal mementos that, if published, would be betraying a trust, even though many of the subjects had died years ago. And, although it turned out to be his lifelong profession, Worth didn't want to be known as a photographer; he harbored visions of becoming a director, even shooting footage of famous friends like Jerry Lewis and Shirley Jones for a movie that was never completed.

After his death, Worth's family decided that these remarkable photos deserve to be seen by Hollywood enthusiasts everywhere for the treasures they are, although at first even they didn't realize the size and scope of the collection Worth had spirited away. His cousin, Stuart Harris, who had been named the executor of Worth's estate, found as many as 10,000 negatives (mostly black-and-white, but some in color) among the jumbled mess Worth left behind and called upon a friend, Norman Solomon, who had produced a Helmut Newton show in Paris, to see if they had any value. Solomon, who had palled around with Worth a few times in Los Angeles 20 years ago, sent them to be processed in London, and what came back astounded them.            Next Page

Website Designed by: WebDesigns-Studio.com