Seen at Intersect Aspen: The Original Marlboro Man Norm Clasen
At Intersect Aspen this year, we had the privilege of speaking with Norm Clasen, the photographer behind the legendary Marlboro advertising campaign—a body of work that became synonymous with the American West and reached every corner of the globe. What emerged was a story of artistic integrity, unexpected fame, and the complex relationship between commercial photography and fine art.
The Most Famous Face You Never Knew
For decades, one man's image graced billboards, magazines, and advertisements worldwide, yet his name remained unknown to the public. Darrel Winfield, with his distinctive mustache and piercing blue eyes, became "the most photographed male face in the world," shared Clasen.
"It was everywhere in the world, and no one ever knew his name," Norm reflected, highlighting the curious nature of commercial fame where the image becomes iconic while the individual remains anonymous.
Art vs. Commerce: The Internal Conflict
Clasen openly discussed the internal tension of working on cigarette advertisements while personally never smoking. Norm’s perspective was refreshingly honest: "I'm telling stories about the American West. I'm telling with real cowboys in real locations. It's the best document ever done of the modern cowboy. I’m not even thinking about cigarettes."
Global Impact Through Visual Storytelling
The campaign's reach was truly extraordinary. Norm shared encounters with polo players from Argentina who, as children, would tear the images from magazines to hang on their walls, illustrating how powerful imagery transcends its commercial origins to become part of cultural consciousness.
Norms photographs captured something universal about freedom, ruggedness, and the romance of the American West that resonated across cultures and continents.
The Richard Prince Controversy
One of the most intriguing aspects of our conversation involved artist Richard Prince, who appropriated some of these Marlboro images and sold them for millions in the fine art world. When Norm approached Marlboro about this unauthorized use, the company's response was surprisingly strategic.
Rather than pursuing legal action, Marlboro seemed to understand that the controversy kept their brand in the cultural conversation. In the end, they granted Clasen permission to present these photographs as fine art, with one condition: no images showing someone lighting a cigarette that might appear as advertising.
The Analog Aesthetic That Can't Be Replicated
Perhaps most fascinating was Norm’s discussion of his distinctive visual style—achieved through analog techniques including "Ektachrome, push to stop." Despite numerous attempts, Clasen hasn’t been able to recreate this look digitally.
"I can't make a digital image look like those analog images. I've tried and tried, can't do it," he explained. This limitation has become a feature, not a bug, as audiences increasingly appreciate the authentic, tactile quality of film photography.
Continuing the Western Story
Today, Norm continues documenting ranch life, focusing particularly on horses—"one of the creatures on this planet that I just adore." He’s returned to some of the same ranches from their Marlboro days, creating new work that bridges past and present while maintaining their distinctive analog approach.
Legacy and Recognition
The transition from commercial work to fine art galleries represents a full-circle moment for these images. No longer serving a commercial purpose, they can be appreciated purely for their artistic merit—their composition, lighting, and authentic portrayal of Western life.
Norm now presents these works in very limited editions, treating them with the respect they deserve as historical documents and artistic achievements. It's a fitting evolution for images that began as commercial photography but always contained the DNA of fine art.
The Enduring Power of Authentic Imagery
Norm’s story reminds us that great images transcend their original purpose. Whether selling cigarettes or hanging in galleries, these photographs of the American West captured something timeless about freedom, landscape, and character. The fact that children worldwide tore them from magazines to hang on their walls speaks to their power as pure visual communication.
In an increasingly digital world, there's something particularly poignant about work that literally cannot be replicated with modern technology—a reminder that some aesthetic achievements are tied to their time, place, and process in ways that make them irreplaceable.
Clasen’s journey illustrates how authentic artistic vision can find its way to appropriate recognition, even when it begins in the most commercial of contexts. Sometimes the best art is hiding in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to be seen for what it truly is.