Michael Jackson in his Neverland Ranch (Harry Benson, 1993)

In some ways, the photos are standard-issue images of life around the house – homeowner with pet, homeowner with keepsakes, homeowner in favorite chair…

Except the pet is a chimp named Bubbles, the memorabilia include blindingly blinged-out belts, and the chair is an oversized throne crawling with lions and horses.

That would, of course, make the homeowner Michael Jackson, seen in photos that are anything but ordinary.

Shot by photojournalist Harry Benson, who lives part time in Wellington, the Neverland photos can be seen exclusively in the November issue of Architectural Digest, now on newsstands.

“That was the last place I thought these would ever appear,” said Benson, who shot the photos in 1993 and 1997.

The 18-page spread, which includes a first-person essay by Benson, an article by novelist and travel writer Paul Theroux and shots of how the house looked when first built and furnished, adds a sprinkling of sequins to Architectural Digest‘s buttoned-up wardrobe of carefully arranged, human-free interiors.

“But when you think about it,” Benson said, “maybe it’s not so unusual, because we’re talking about Neverland – maybe the most famous private home in the world.”

Even casual followers of Jackson, who died in June at the age of 50, can conjure up remembered images of Neverland’s manicured grounds and ornate entrance gates.

But the interiors, and how Jackson made a 13,000-square-foot house a home, are fuzzier. “It’s the only part of his life that we don’t really know that much about,” Benson said. “That was his place. And he let me in.”

Star made photographer’s job easy

Perhaps best known for his photographs of The Beatles, the Kennedys and every U.S. president since Eisenhower, the Scottish-born photographer first met Jackson in 1984, during the Victory tour, and visited Neverland three times through the years.

“Every time (you visited), you thought it was going to be the last,” he said.

And although Neverland was bursting with gawk-worthy sights (the blond python named Madonna, say, or the faux stones piping music throughout the property), “that wasn’t really on my mind,” Benson said.

“My mind was on getting photographs. I thought, ‘I’ve got to work. I’ve got to get as much as I can out of this situation.””

Jackson made it easy.

“He had manners, which you sometimes don’t see in these people because they want everything for themselves,” Benson said.

“He would do anything you wanted. … In Scotland, they would say he’s one of nature’s gentlemen.”

And, he was generous.

When Benson packed up his camera, Jackson would ask his private chef to prepare sandwiches for the photographer to take on the drive from Santa Barbara County to Los Angeles, “because it was a good three-hour run.”

Benson writes in Architectural Digest that Jackson seemed initially shy: “He spoke in the very soft, high-pitched voice recognizable to the world, but, oddly enough, after about 10 minutes his tone deepened, although he still spoke very softly.

“I find that many powerful people, heads of state and such, speak very softly. They don’t have to shout to get your attention.”

Jackson’s bedroom was plain and somewhat depressing, Benson said, but the photographer’s favorite Neverland photo was shot there: Jackson sprawled on his gilded throne, which sat at the end of his bed.

“That picture makes him look just like what he was, the King of Pop.”

Of course, the throne, and all those glittering belts and gloves and jackets, were hauled away years ago.

Bubbles now lives in an animal sanctuary in Hardee County, Florida.

The house and the grounds are quiet, which, said Benson, “makes it kind of like a dream that never happened.”

Neverland by the numbers