Every winter, as the chill sets in, many find themselves drawn to images that evoke warmth and comfort. But for some, like myself, the cold conjures a different kind of fascination – a fascination with resilience, survival, and the stark beauty of icy landscapes. This is why, year after year, the name “Freuchen” leads me to an iconic photograph: Irving Penn’s 1947 portrait of the towering Danish explorer Peter Freuchen Explorer and his petite third wife, Dagmar Cohn, a Vogue illustrator.
This vintage image is more than just a photograph; it’s a study in contrasts and a glimpse into an extraordinary life. The sheer difference in proportions is immediately striking. Peter Freuchen explorer, a man of immense stature at six-foot-seven, is enveloped in a massive polar bear coat, a symbol of his Arctic adventures. Beside him stands Dagmar, delicate in her chic black suit and pearls. Her fashionable hat, adorned with a bow and netting – the height of millinery trends at the time – is almost swallowed by the sheer volume of Freuchen’s fur coat.
Their expressions further enhance the dichotomy. Freuchen’s gaze is intense, weathered, almost predatory, hinting at the harsh realities of his explorations. Dagmar, in contrast, appears composed, almost detached, perched somewhat precariously on a rough bolt of fabric, a signature element in Penn’s minimalist style. They are separate, distinct figures within the frame, barely connected, suggesting different worlds and perhaps even different eras. This stark portrayal is what makes Penn’s photograph so compelling, a captivating winter image and a unique depiction of a marriage.
Alexandra Dennett, the legacy-program manager at the Irving Penn Foundation, shed light on the context of “Peter and Dagmar Freuchen.” It was part of a series Penn created between 1947 and 1948 for Vogue, tasked with capturing influential cultural figures of the time. Penn’s signature style for these portraits was intentionally stark and revealing. He used harsh, directional lighting in unadorned studios, often placing his subjects against raw backdrops like wooden corners or simple carpets. As art historian Maria Morris Hambourg noted, Penn’s “existential portraits” were designed to be unsettling, forcing both the subject and the viewer to confront a raw, unfiltered reality. This “unforgiving space,” as Hambourg describes it, aimed to uncover something deeper about the sitter beyond mere celebrity.
It’s no surprise that Peter Freuchen explorer, a man defined by his toughness and resilience, would agree to such a portrait. Born in Denmark in 1886, Freuchen’s path to adventure began unexpectedly. At twenty, inspired by a student play about polar exploration, he abandoned his studies and set sail for Greenland as a stoker on a steamship. This marked the beginning of three decades spent in the most extreme environments on Earth.
Freuchen’s life, as documented in his numerous memoirs and journals (he authored over a dozen books), was a relentless encounter with danger. He faced death repeatedly in the unforgiving Arctic. He survived being trapped in an avalanche for days, a near-fatal shooting by a camp cook mistaking him for a bear, and a terrifying plunge through sea ice that required sled dogs to pull him to safety. In one harrowing incident, while descending a glacier using sealskin ropes, he accidentally harpooned his own thigh. Perhaps the most legendary tale of his survival is his escape from a snow cave. Trapped by an impenetrable ice crust formed by his own breath, Freuchen famously fashioned a chisel, in some accounts, from his own frozen excrement. While trapped, he suffered severe frostbite, ultimately leading to the self-amputation of several toes and later, the complete loss of his foot.
Dagmar was Peter Freuchen explorer‘s third wife, entering his life after a series of significant relationships. His first marriage was to an Inuit woman, Navarana, who tragically died young. His second wife was a Danish actress and publishing heiress, with whom he co-founded a women’s magazine in the 1920s, showcasing his diverse interests beyond exploration. During World War II, Freuchen, who had Jewish heritage, became actively involved in the anti-Nazi resistance, leading to his books being banned by the Reich. According to his memoirs, he was captured by the Germans but managed to escape with Dagmar and flee to the United States. In America, he found work in Hollywood, contributing to films about the Arctic, and in a surprising turn, won the popular game show “The $64,000 Question,” further cementing his larger-than-life persona.
Peter Freuchen explorer died of a heart attack in 1957, leaving behind a legacy of extraordinary adventure and resilience. Dagmar lived on for many years after his passing, carrying the memory of their unconventional life together. Irving Penn’s studio notes from their portrait session offer a fitting final observation, perfectly capturing the essence of Peter Freuchen explorer and providing timeless winter style inspiration: “Mr. Freuchen brought the polar bear coat he had purchased in Greenland, wrapped up in a gunny sack and slung over his shoulder,” the notes detail. “Clad in this he looked like a combination of an arctic explorer and a character from the Old Testament.” This enduring image and the remarkable life of Peter Freuchen explorer continue to captivate, reminding us of human strength and the allure of the wild, even in the coldest of winters.
